Does It Hurt? (121)

“Trinity is already independent, Officer. I hope you learn to give her more credit,” I respond stoically.

She smiles, conceding on that.

“You mentioned wanting to change your name, we can set you up with a lawyer who can help you through that process. From there, you’ll be able to sort out an ID as well,” Bancroft goes on, turning to Sawyer. “Have you decided what you want your name to be?”

Sawyer’s eyes widen as several sets of eyes zero in on her. She wants to keep her name—her real name—but she’s been nervous about trying to explain it to the police. Not that she has to explain a damn thing to anyone.

Clearing her throat, she says, “Yeah. I—uh, I know it might sound weird, but I wanted to name myself after Sawyer. My first name, at least. She… she taught me a lot, and I admired her. And she deserved to have a life.”

Bancroft might as well have melted in a puddle.

“That’s very sweet,” she says softly. “It’s a beautiful name, too. That poor girl had a very troubling life. So many reports came out about that evil brother of hers. I imagine she did the world a favor.”

Sawyer’s mouth drops and then snaps shut, confusion written across her face. My own brows jump, surprised that there was more evidence against her brother and that Sawyer never knew about it. I suppose she avoided looking at anything to do with him at all costs.

“Reports?” I parrot.

Bancroft turns to me. “Oh, yeah. Her brother was abusing young girls. Several of them came out after his death.”

Sawyer visibly pales, and she’s struggling to control her facial expressions.

“All right, let’s not gossip,” Jones cuts in, shooting his partner a look.

Bancroft faces Sawyer again and rests a hand on her arm in a comforting gesture.

“Let me know if you need help with anything. I’m sure you’re in good hands with Mr. Vitale, but I’ll be a phone call away if you need me.”

Sawyer smiles tightly, and thanks the officers. I watch them leave, then face Troy and Sawyer again. Troy is staring at the latter, who currently looks a little sick.

Troy is the only person that will ever know the truth. He knows I’d wrap him in chum and throw him in the water with a shark if he ever told a soul, and considering I murdered Sylvester, he has no reason not to believe me.

“You okay?” he asks, his brows lowered with concern.

She nods her head rapidly as if she’s trying to convince herself.

“Yeah,” she croaks. Then she starts shaking her head. “No, actually. Not really.”

I brush past Troy, grab her arm, and pull her into me. She’s trembling like a leaf.

“Did you know he was abusing other girls?” I ask, dropping my chin to catch her eye. She tucks her head lower, avoiding me.

Pinching her chin between my fingers, I force her gaze to mine.

“No,” she whispers, glancing away, her cheeks coloring red.

“Regardless, you did the world a fucking favor,” Troy mutters. “Honestly, you shouldn’t beat yourself up over it when you saved them from further abuse.”

Sawyer nods, but again, it looks like she’s trying to convince herself.

“Yeah, it just makes me feel stupid for not seeing that.”

Troy shrugs. “How could you have?”

She frowns. “Did I even need to kill who I used to be?”

“Australia would’ve turned you over to the U.S. If they did, you would’ve had to go to trial and relive everything, and there’s a high probability that you would’ve been found guilty, despite his abuse,” I say. “There is scarcely justice served for abused victims in America. It’s better that it’s all dead and buried.”

“You’re right about that,” she sighs.

The shark splashes in the water, drawing my attention away.

“I’m going to finish up work here. And then we’ll go get your name changed. I already know what I want it to be.”

Her blue eyes slide to mine, bewildered.

“You know what you want it to be?” she asks sassily.

I grin, and Troy gasps dramatically.

“Yo, did he just smile?”

Ignoring him, I declare, “I’m choosing your last name, bella.”





Chapter 39


Sawyer



One Month Later



Something soft presses against the side of my neck, rousing me from a deep sleep. A moment later, that gentle touch turns biting and sharp. I gasp, my eyes snapping open as Enzo sinks his teeth into the flesh beneath my ear.

“Enzo,” I groan. “My vagina has literally never been this sore in my entire life.”

“You can take it,” he mutters, emphasizing his statement with another nip. “You always do.”

“You’re so rude,” I grumble. “So uncaring of my battered, bruised body.”

He presses the hard length of his cock into my back, a soft groan slipping past his lips as he does. That small sound is enough to send heat slithering throughout my body, followed by a warm chill down my spine. It’s honestly pathetic how attractive he is. The dude could barter world peace or some shit, I swear.

If only he actually gave a fuck about it.

“I would have to disagree, Ms. Vitale.”