Page 30 of Love Her Ruin
“Then you have no right to be here,” Eddie says, his voice dropping into that quiet, dangerous register I’ve only heard a few times before. “Ms. Vale has answered your questions. Harrow isn’t here. If you have credible information that he is, get a warrant. Until then, leave her alone.”
The younger officer looks at his feet.
Finally, Miller gives a short, tight nod. “Sorry to disturb you, Ms. Vale.”
His eyes meet mine one last time, and I see it there. The doubt, the unresolved suspicion. He’s not going to let this go.
“Thank you, Officers,” I say, my voice a soft, relieved murmur.
They turn and walk back to their cruiser. Eddie gives me a polite wave and starts walking away while I stand on the porch, watching.
The cruiser’s taillights flare, and they pull away, disappearing into the dark.
I don’t move until the sound of the engine is completely gone.
When Eddie creeps back out of the shadows, I say, “They’ll be back. Or they’ll put a watch on the house. They’re not convinced.”
The fragile sense of control I built in the basement is shattered. The outside world has a finger on the windowsill, prying it open.
I turn and walk back inside, down the hall, toward the basement door. Eddie follows and shuts and locks the door behind him.
The ritual is broken. The mood is gone, replaced by a sharp, metallic fear.
But Vincent is still downstairs.
And my rage is still there, hotter for having been interrupted.
I pause at the top of the basement stairs and look back at Eddie. “How long do you think we have?”
He meets my gaze, his face grim. “It depends on what exactly Vincent told them. They might have enough to go get a warrant.”
I nod, then I start back down the stairs.
The game has changed. Now we’re not just torturing a man.
We’re racing against a clock.
Chapter 16
Sera
Vincent’seyesfindmineas I descend the stairs, and in them I see a flicker of something stupid.
Hope. He heard the doorbell. He heard the voices. He thinks rescue is a possibility.
Fucking idiot.
James and Eddie follow me down. Daddy is a pillar of cold shadow by the furnace.
“We don’t have time for a marathon,” I say, my voice flat. “We need him gone. Soon.”
“A bullet,” James suggests. “Quick in the dick.”
It’s fast and final, but it’s not enough. A bullet is a period. I need an ellipsis, a lingering scream that echoes in the bones of this house long after he’s stopped breathing.
“No,” I say with a smile. “Castration. It’s slower, messier. It’s exactly what he deserves.”
Vincent whimpers.
