What Are You Afraid Of? (The Agency #2)(95)

Then her lips snapped together. Lawrence Jacobs.

She didn’t doubt for a second that he would have swooped in the minute it was discovered that his brother and sister-in-law were dead. He would also have ensured the cops wrapped up the case as quickly and with as little fuss as possible. The last thing he wanted was the scandal to continue to dominate the headlines.

“It wasn’t enough that you killed my father? Your mother had to destroy his memory?”

He shrugged. “She wanted to protect me.”

“By letting you walk away from a double murder?”

He abruptly pivoted to glare at her with eyes that were glittering with a dangerous light.

“She didn’t let me get away with it. She sent me to a psychiatric hospital.”

Carmen stiffened, abruptly recalling that he’d told her a bogus story about leaving the estate.

“You lied,” she accused. “You didn’t go to your aunt’s to live.”

“The polite term is that I was institutionalized,” he said in mocking tones. “I was locked away like an animal.”

Did he expect her to feel sorry for him? Not a chance in hell.

“You should have been in prison,” she said. “You murdered my parents.”

With quick, angry strides he was standing directly in front of her. Carmen flinched, but this time he didn’t hit her. Instead, he glared at her, a sneer twisting his lips.

“I should have known you wouldn’t understand. And it doesn’t matter.” He waved his hand, his pale eyes still glowing with a strange light. “I wasted years trying to earn the love of a man who was unworthy. Once I was away from that house, I could finally see clearly.”

“See what clearly?”

“You had all been stifling me.” He held up his fingers, ticking off the people who he believed had stood in his way. “My mother, with her insistence on treating me like a child. Andrew, with his assumption he could control me with his fists. My father, who treated me like a nobody.” His hand dropped and he took a small step back. Carmen released a small breath of relief. Having him so near made her skin crawl with revulsion. “They blinded me to my true worth,” he continued, his voice becoming louder. He clearly was enjoying telling this part of his story. “But at the institute I could finally accept my true self.”

“I’m happy for you.”

He either didn’t notice the edge of sarcasm in her voice or decided he was willing to overlook it.

“I didn’t have to please anyone. And do you know what I learned?”

“I can’t imagine.”

“Absolute honesty.” He held her gaze, a weird smile curling his lips. “I admitted to myself that I didn’t feel guilty for killing my father. Or your mother.”

Fury raced through her. He’d destroyed an entire family. Then he’d been allowed to go to a hospital instead of being thrown in jail. And now he wanted to gloat that he was proud he didn’t even feel guilty.

But even as her lips parted, Carmen was swallowing her impulsive words. Had she heard a door open? The sound had been faint, as if it was far across the warehouse. But it was enough to send a flare of hope through her.

Maybe Griff had managed to find her.

Or maybe it was a security guard. She hadn’t seen one since she’d woken up, but it was possible there was one who was roaming around the huge building.

Either way, she needed to be ready to take advantage of the situation.

She pushed an inch away from the wall, relieved when her knees held her weight. Progress, she decided.

“I thought you claimed you didn’t mean to kill them,” she said, anxious to keep him talking.

The last thing she wanted was for him to realize they weren’t alone and panic. She didn’t have to be psychic to know that wouldn’t be good for her life expectancy.

“I didn’t, but knowing they were dead and that I had the power to end their lives was . . .” Ronnie gave a dramatic pause, a slash of fevered color staining his cheek. “Intoxicating. I wasn’t a nobody. I was a predator.” His smile widened. “A hunter.”

Her mouth went dry. The childish, petulant Ronnie was gone. Standing before her was the animal who’d hunted helpless women and bashed in their heads with a crowbar.

“A hunter?” She took a slow, cautious step to the side.

“Yes. I began to fantasize about pulling the trigger again. Only this time it would be someone who I’d chosen, and spent time stalking before I made my kill.”

He shivered. Not with fear, but with excitement. Was he recalling the pleasure of killing those poor women?

She struggled not to gag.

“That’s awful,” she breathed.

He sent her an annoyed glare. “No, it’s truthful. I’d become who I was meant to be. And even better, I found other people just like me.”

Like him? That was a horrifying thought.

“In the hospital?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not the same one as me, but the Internet made it easy to connect with other potential hunters,” he revealed. “We created a Kill Club.”

Nausea curled through the pit of her stomach. It was . . . insane.

He was insane.

“Kill Club?” She shuddered in horror. “Are you serious?”