Every Single Secret(83)

“But they would’ve blamed Cecelia too. Maybe put her away forever. I couldn’t do that to her. She was as much a victim as me.”

Heath stood and limped toward me. I let him get close enough that the air between us fairly hummed with electricity. More than just my hands were trembling now. He took a lock of my hair and wound it around his fingers. Brought it to his nose and inhaled. His eyes shuttered closed, and his face lowered to mine. His skin was rough. Slicked with blood.

“Please say you understand why I had to do what I did,” he whispered into my ear. “Please say you won’t leave me.”

I pictured Cerny’s blood smearing from Heath’s skin onto mine. He took hold of my arms, his touch sending a series of shocks zinging through me.

“Everything you told me about Chantal and Mr. Al and Omega—it meant so much to me.”

He was holding me so tightly now, I couldn’t move.

“When you told me, I knew that finally there was someone who understood what I’d been through. What I had to do. We’re the same, Daphne, and it helps me so much to know you’re with me now. That we’re together.”

He wrapped his arms around me, and I closed my eyes. Inhaled his scent—woody, animal scent and copper tang of blood. A brief moment passed, images flashing in my head: Heath whispering in my ear at the photo shoot. His lips on mine. Us at home, in bed, sunlight slanting in from the blinds. The light catching on my ring, the diamond band that he’d taken from Cecelia’s finger, casting rainbows on the wall.

In the frozen moment, my senses telescoped to a mere pinpoint, my brain slowing.

This is your fate, it said, where your life has been leading all along.

You are both damaged. Both beyond repair. But together, you make something whole.

And then, Heath’s arm encircled my back, and he lowered his face and kissed me. Like with every kiss before, I felt the softness of his lips, tasted him, breathed him in. Then, just like it always happened in fairy tales, when the handsome prince’s kiss breaks the spell, my heart woke up.



Friday, October 19

Night

“It wasn’t that she was beautiful—or plain or ugly. As a matter of fact, I don’t remember what she looked like. That wasn’t the point.”

“What was the point, Heath?”

“Connection, I suppose.”

“But that isn’t possible for you, Heath. Isn’t that what this is all about?”

“I’ve found a way, I think. I just don’t believe it’s sustainable. I need you to help me adapt it.”

“So you’re telling me that you are, indeed, able to connect with another person?”

“If it’s the right person, yes. If I think there’s something more beneath the hair and the makeup and the clothes. But I can only truly know if I’m able to get to that place—”

“What place?”

“The place beyond the hurt. When the hurt finally opens the door—I only know then whether a true connection is possible—”

Something on the TV across the room catches my eye. A local news alert. MISSING, in a red banner, crawls across the bottom of the screen. HOLLY ELAINE IDLEWINE, it reads. Along with a picture.

It’s the picture that stops my heart.

She is dressed for a night of club hopping in a tight black dress. She has long honey-colored, flat-ironed hair, beige lipstick on her pursed lips, and a fringe of blue around her eyes.

Blue eyelash extensions.

At that exact moment, there’s a flash just outside the door of the police station. A green Toyota Tacoma truck driving past with Luca at the wheel.



Chapter Thirty

Friday, October 19

Afternoon

I stopped in the doorway of the dining room. Cerny lay on the floor, one arm flung behind him, legs splayed. A lake of blood pooled under him, already congealing into the cracks of the floorboards and around the slivers of glass from the broken mirror. The side of his head was a caved-in mess of blood and white bone. I even thought I could see his brain.

But I didn’t have time to get sick or panic. I had to figure out how to get away from the man who had his hand resting protectively at my waist like he owned me. I could feel him monitoring my reaction. And the truth was, I knew I should be reacting—just standing here had to look suspicious, so I buried my face in my hands. My eyes were dry, though, and my mind raced.

What was I going to do? Stab Heath with a kitchen knife and make a run for it? The idea of it was ridiculous. He was taller than me, stronger and faster as well. I’d never overpower him. Never outrun him.

Stay calm. The answer will come.

Heath cleared his throat. “It’s terrible, I know.”

I nodded. He reached out for me, and I let him catch my hand.

“We have to go back,” I finally said. “To the woods where Cecelia is. We should be there when the police arrive.”

He didn’t answer, and then I knew.

“You didn’t call, did you? The police aren’t coming?”

“No.”

I thought fast. “Well, they will, eventually. Two people are dead. Luca’s going to come back and find them. Or maybe Reggie Teague.”

“We need to make a plan,” he said. “Figure out how we’re going to explain what happened here and why we left.”