Page 897 of Lessons in Cruelty

My father—the junkie, the monster—is dead because the man I love killed him.

Surely I should be horrified. Terrified. Maybe even feel a little betrayed.

Instead, all I feel is a strange, hollow relief.

I give him a slow blink. “Yeah…” I murmur. “I had a feeling you had something to do with that.”

If he’s impressed by my detective skills, he doesn’t show it.

“Who else?” Kai asks.

Bastian’s gaze flicks over to him. “No one you know.”

“Who?” Kai presses.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it fucking matters!” Kai’s on his feet now, wincing as his leg protests. “You’re telling us you’ve killed multiple people, and you want us to just—what? Not ask questions?”

“I’m telling you because you deserve to know what you’re getting into.” Bastian’s voice is back to that eerie almost upbeat tone, but I can see the tension in his jaw. “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. I’ll give you money, a car, whatever you need.”

“And if we stay?” I prompt.

Kai spins to me, and even in my peripheral vision I can see his mouth falling open. “Haven⁠—”

“If. We. Stay?” I say again, enunciating every syllable.

“Why would you?” Bastian doesn’t sound glib anymore. There’s genuine curiosity in his narrowed brown eyes, incredulity in the frown between his brows.

“Did you think your demons would scare us off?” I push my plate away too, leaning in on my elbows. “Or were you hoping they would so you could go back to your uncomplicated life?”

The kitchen is silent except for the howl of the storm outside.

“Did they deserve it?” Kai asks quietly. “Like Bobby?”

Bastian hesitates. “Some of them.”

“And the ones who didn’t?” Kai asks. “Why them?”

“I…” He stops. Starts again. “This thing…I can’t control it.”

“The thing that makes you kill?” I ask.

Bastian nods, his eyes unfocused. “It’s like a craving that builds and builds until I’m forced to satiate it.”

“But you haven’t had that…urge…again, have you? Not since Melissa,” Kai says.

Bastian shakes his head slowly, frowning. “No.”

“Not since we came back to you,” I say.

He looks up, his frown growing deeper. “No.”

“Then maybe…” I slide off my stool, moving toward him on unsteady legs. “Maybe we’re good for you.” I cup his face in my hands, searching his dark eyes. Eyes I’ve seen so many emotions in lately—hunger, fear, anger.

Now, all I see is confusion.

“Maybe we help you control it,” Kai says behind me.