Page 123 of Iced Up Love: Part Two

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Because it isn’t a reassurance.

It isn’t something I’m saying to convince them.

It’s a fact.

It has to be.

I feel my phone vibrate in my hand.

I don’t remember picking it up.

I don’t remember deciding to look at it.

But I am. Christian. I open the message.

We’ve got him. Killian’s with me. Taking him to the warehouse.

The words settle into place cleanly. Quietly. No immediate reaction. No spike of rage. Not like before. My thumb moves over the screen without hesitation.

Keep him alive.

There’s a pause before he replies.

He won’t die unless you say so.

Good.

I lower the phone slowly, my grip tightening around it as something shifts in my chest, something that feels nothing like the violent, consuming rage that had me tearing into him in that cabin.

This is different.

This is quieter.

Colder.

More deliberate.

The image comes back anyway.

His hands on her.

The blood.

The way her body didn’t move.

And this time there’s no explosion of anger with it.

No loss of control.

Something worse settles in its place.

Something patient.

When I get my hands on him, I will not rush it.

I will not lose control.

I will take him apart slowly.

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