Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
AINSLEY
I t was as if a switch had flipped in my husband. Similar to how things had changed between us after Stefan, suddenly we were better.
The honeymoon stage had reappeared; the light was back in his eyes.
This time, though, there was a hunger, a darkness to him I hadn’t seen before. The power I felt at ending Jim’s life was nothing compared to the power I saw in his expression when he looked at me.
I couldn’t help feeling like I was someone else entirely to him now.
I wanted to hold on to that.
For so long, I’d struggled to get him to look at me the way he was looking at me now. I’d caught glimpses of it before, but this was a full, unobstructed view.
I wanted to capture it, bottle it, whatever it took to make sure it remained mine forever.
Peter had told me once that after you’d ended your first life, each one got easier .
I understood that with Stefan, and then Jim.
The shock wore off quicker, replaced by magnetic intensity.
The next day, as I left the house, I felt the pull. Already, I wanted to do it again.
How did Peter manage to control himself?
I was starting to wonder if I ever would again.
Or if I even wanted to.
Last night, we’d cleaned up what little mess there was, bleached our clothes, and loaded the boxes up into the back of Jim’s truck. We’d taken the body Jim had left with us and buried her far from the other victims. I was sore and exhausted, but I’d hardly slept at all. It was invigorating. I could keep going—living on this high forever. My body was on fire with electricity like I’d never felt before. I wanted to sit with it, to absorb it and let it linger, but I had to return to my life. I knew that. If this was ever going to work, I had to keep up pretenses.
So, we’d come up with a plan. Peter had hidden Jim's truck at the edge of our property before the kids got home so they wouldn't notice it. This morning, he’d left before they were up to take the boxes to the landfill, then I was supposed to meet him near a hiking trail without much traffic and we’d leave Jim’s truck there.
I’d been worried about who might come looking for him, but Peter assured me no one was going to look for Jim Slater.
He was a loner.
A rapist.
A felon.
A murderer .
An all-around bad guy.
The world was a better place without him. Thanks to me.
I’d told my team I had a few errands to run—which was technically true—and I’d be a few hours late to work. As I drove the streets on my way to find Peter, a bit of doubt began to creep in. I tried not to let it get to me, not to stress over what might come next.
There were things I couldn’t control, and that was okay. I’d learn to live with it.
Things were good now.
I’d protected Peter from his enemy. Protected our family. Protected the world.
I am the whole damn world.
I repeated the mantra over and over in my head. It made me feel powerful. More powerful than I’d ever felt.
I understood the hype.
The addiction.
The excitement.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I understood my husband completely.
Five minutes earlier than we’d planned, I slowed the car next to the place where we were supposed to meet. He wasn’t there yet, but he was coming. We had more work to do, and we weren’t wasting any time.
Next up was Coach Chris and, if it was possible, I was even more excited about killing him.
It wasn’t smart to murder them so close together, but we both agreed this was a special circumstance. We couldn’t let him go on living. Couldn’t chance him hurting someone else.
I thought about Bailey, the young girl who’d grown up with Maisy. Who’d spent the night at our house countless times. Who’d worn matching clothes with Maisy when they were younger. Whose voice I could still hear blaring through the walls on the old karaoke machine Maisy had been gifted for Christmas when they were seven.
We’d agreed turning him in would only hurt Maisy worse. Perhaps cost her a cherished friendship.
So, if we couldn’t go to the police, murder was our only option.
Or…maybe that’s just what we wanted to believe. Either way, it was what would be done.
I spied Jim’s truck headed in my direction, slowing down as it neared me. Peter wore Jim’s ball cap, and when he got close, he lifted it slightly, flashing a boy-like grin at me and pulling down the path and into the woods until the truck was hidden from passing cars.
“Did you have any trouble?” I asked, coming to join him as he wiped down the inside of the truck and the door handles.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“You paid in cash, right?”
“Yep.”
“Good.”
I must’ve sounded nervous because he looked at me over his shoulder, nodding slowly. “We’re fine. Trust me, no one’s going to be looking for him. I’ve told the partners he’s pulling all his contracts. We’re replacing him at work. None of his employees will be shocked. And there’s no one else. His parents cut him off years ago, he has no friends… We’re fine.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “I know.”
The roles had reversed so much from the last time, when it had been me reassuring him. Once the truck had been wiped down, we crossed the woods back to our car.
“To the studio?”
I nodded as we buckled in. “It’s a few hours before practices will start, so he should be there alone.”
“And if he’s not?”
“We’ll figure that out if it comes to it.” I gripped the steering wheel tightly, reversing out of the parking spot and turning our car in the direction we were headed.
“How did the kids seem? Were they awake before you left?”
“Dylan and Riley are fine. I mean, normal, but fine. Maisy still isn’t really talking to me.”
“She’ll come around.”
“I don’t know, Peter. I really butchered this,” I said, shaking my head.
“What are you talking about?”
“She needed me to be there for her, to say the right thing, and I just…didn’t. I was rambling about turning him in and I wasn’t listening to her. To what she needed.”
“You were shocked.” He reached for my hand, and I gave it to him, though it did little to reassure me.
“That’s no excuse.”
“You did all you could. You listened to her—”
“Yeah, and that’s all I should’ve done. For all we know, she’ll never tell me anything again.”
“That’s not true. ”
“You don’t know that—”
“I do,” he said firmly. “Ains, you love her. She knows that.”
“But is that enough? When I just keep failing her?”
“You’re not failing her. She’ll never know that you did this, of course, but you’ll know. You’re protecting her now. Just like you always have. She’ll see that someday. No, maybe you didn’t do exactly what you hoped in that moment, but what you said was what any other parent would’ve said. It’s what I would’ve said.”
Somehow, that did little to make me feel better.
“Anyway, let’s just focus, okay? Should we go over the plan one more time?”
We did—rehearsing and rerunning the plan over and over as we made our way toward the tiny dance studio at the edge of town. To my relief, only one car was there when we arrived. The forest green hatchback was parked on the far side of the lot, leaving room for the parents who would arrive this evening.
“You ready?” he asked, eyeing me from the passenger seat.
I pushed open the door and stepped out. “As I’ll ever be.”
“Be careful.”
I shut the door, leaving him waiting in the car, and closed my hands into fists, breathing deeply as I counted my steps on the way to the door.
Calm down.
Calm down.
Calm down.
I tugged at the shirt I was wearing, lowering my neckline and praying it would work in my favor. No amount of preparation could’ve made this easier. Not when there were so many variables. It was easier at home, but this couldn’t be done at home.
It just couldn’t. There was no way to get the coach to our house without seeming suspicious.
I wore a ball cap, though there were no cameras in the studio. It had never seemed odd to me before, though now I had to suspect Coach being cheap wasn’t the only reason for that.
I opened the glass door, the bell above it chiming to announce my presence, and listened for his footsteps. His office was just down the hall and to the left.
I moved slowly, heading down the dark corridor and toward the door I’d entered so many times before—to pay tuition or purchase the newest costume.
Once I’d reached it, I placed my hand on the small silver handle and pulled without warning, easing my head inside.
Coach was at his desk, his brow furrowed as he stared intently at something on the computer. When he saw me, he glanced up, then did a double take. “Ainsley? Hey, whoa. I didn’t hear you come in.” He checked his watch. “Was I expecting you?”
Clearing his throat, he closed out of whatever was on his screen, then stood.
“No,” I said softly. “Sorry to interrupt. Is this a bad time?”
“Not at all.” He gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk. “Come on in. It’s great to see you.”
My smile felt more like a grimace, but I knew it would look dazzling to him. That was my superpower, after all, and the reason I’d been the one to come inside. I could hide my emotions—my rage—like Peter never could.
“So, this is kind of embarrassing, but I’m actually here because I just discovered Maisy had dropped dance.”
His resolve disappeared for a half second, but like a pro himself, he managed to disguise it. He blinked rapidly, clearing his throat again. “Um, you did?” His nervous laugh grated my nerves. “Yeah, she dropped…last season, I guess. I assumed you knew?”
“I didn’t,” I said, clasping my hands in my lap. I dug my nails into my palms, trying to remain still when all I wanted to do was lunge across the desk and claw his eyeballs out with my bare hands. “Did she tell you why she dropped out? She’s always loved dancing so much. It’s quite a shock to us, as you can imagine.”
The color drained from his face. “I, well, yeah… It was a shock to me, too. She was one of my stars. But I had to respect her choice. She didn’t really give me an answer. I can try to talk to her, if you want.”
“No,” I said too quickly, then repeated it in a soft, slow croon. “ No. I’ll take care of that. You’re so busy, I mean.” I batted my eyelashes at him, leaning forward and sticking out my chest, though he hardly seemed to notice. In fact, he scooted back in his chair, farther away from me. Perhaps I was too old for his tastes.
“Well, I’d love to have her back here. We miss her.”
“She mentioned a lot of her friends had quit, too. Bailey and Jennessa… Any idea about them?”
Beads of sweat had begun forming on his upper lip. He shook his head, forcing a charming, albeit terrified, grin. “ No. Nope. I never really got an answer. You know how young girls are…”
“How are they?” I asked, unable to control myself. The condescending tone of his voice was nails on a chalkboard.
“Hm?” His brows shot up.
“Well, I mean, to be frank, I’d assume you’d know.”
He adjusted in his chair, tugging at his pant legs as he released a nervous laugh. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I just mean you work with them all day, after all.”
“Oh, right.” He glanced at the floor. “Yeah. Sorry…” He paused, drawing in a breath. For a moment, we were quiet and he patted his legs awkwardly, looking around the room. “Hey, was there something else I could help you with? I forgot I actually do have a meeting to get to after this.”
A meeting. I scoffed internally, pushing up from my chair.
“Of course. I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I just wanted to ask you about one more thing.”
“Sure.” He stood, too.
I reached into my pocket, pulling out my phone.
He leaned forward as I scrolled through my photos, searching for the one I’d found on Maisy’s phone the night before after she’d fallen asleep.
I couldn’t blame Maisy for lying to me about the things he’d sent her. From what I could see, the conversations had been mainly one sided, but still, I would’ve been mortified to tell my mother what happened, too .
“Ah, here it is. Can you tell me… Is this yours?” I flashed the screen at him.
“What the hell?” As he leaned in, I slipped the syringe out of my sleeve and plunged it into his neck. He staggered backward, a hand pressed to the injection site, his eyes wide. I had to hope it worked as quickly as the Internet said it would. “What the hell?” he repeated. “What did you do?” He took a wobbly step toward me, but froze, staring up at the ceiling and blinking rapidly.
I grinned.
It was working.
When going through the boxes Jim had left behind, we’d come across several filled with vials of a clear substance. On a whim, we’d searched for their uses using his phone—couldn’t have anything traced back to us, after all—and were pleasantly surprised to find out that the vials held a particularly nasty sedative.
It was all that we’d kept from Jim’s many packages, but, as luck would have it, it was all we’d need. From what we’d read, just a drop could tranquilize an elephant.
I’d guessed on the dosage.
“I can…explain…” His words came out garbled, as if he were choking. He didn’t need to say a word. The confession was in his mortified expression. I didn’t need any further proof—I’d seen it all on her phone—but I wanted him to know I knew. Wanted him to understand why this was happening.
“It’s okay. I think I get the picture. Pun intended.” I wrinkled my nose at him playfully.
“You’ve…got it all wrong.” He checked his palm, then placed it back on the injection site, gripping the desk to ke ep from collapsing. “What did you do? What did you give me? I’m calling the police.” He reached for the top drawer, pulling it open and tumbling sideways.
“Go right ahead. I have plenty of pictures and text messages to show them. You’d actually be saving me a phone call.”
“No, you’ve gotta believe me… It’s a misunderst—” He blinked again, cutting himself off, one hand on his head. “I have no idea where you got that, but I swear to you… It’s… It’s not me!”
I stepped back, sliding my phone into my pocket as he fought to stand up, leaning his full weight on the bookshelf behind his desk. It wouldn’t be long now.
I pulled the knife from my pocket, pointing it directly between his legs.
“That’ll be easy enough to prove, considering the disgusting birthmark on your leg.”
He eyed the knife, still in disbelief. “Those things can be…edited. Come on, Ainsley. You… You know me. You know how much I love these girls,” he pleaded.
“Oh, yes. I know all about that.”
“I’m not capable of this.”
“It’s a funny thing. What people are capable of. They always manage to surprise you.”
He stood again, his arms and legs out wide, trying to prevent himself from toppling over. “I don’t feel good… Seriously, what did you give me?”
“Not much time now. Better find somewhere soft to land.”
“Wha—”
Before he could finish the question, his knees gave out and he dropped to the floor, his head hitting the hardwood with a loud thud.
I huffed out a sigh and stood over him, watching him breathe. I could’ve killed him right then—I wanted to, even—but that wasn’t the plan. I slipped the knife back into my pocket and adjusted the cap, turning back toward the door to get Peter’s help. I stopped short, gasping when I heard a noise behind me.
Was he waking up? I’d given him enough sedative to kill him, or knock him out for days at the very least.
Buzzz…
Buzzz…
Buzzz…
I spun back around. The sound was coming from inside his desk. Pulling my sleeves over my hands, I stepped over him and peered inside the top drawer he’d torn open. His phone lay faceup, a woman’s portrait and name on the screen.
Joanna.
A dance mom, perhaps?
She was pretty. Too old for his taste, maybe, but… My eyes trailed the length of his desk, noticing the pictures I’d never seen before. The same woman who was on his screen was in the pictures. They were smiling, gazing at each other with warm, loving stares. In the next picture, their arms wrapped around each other, their lips locked together.
They seemed happy.
In love.
Didn’t she know what a monster he was?
Joanna …
Coach wasn’t married. Was this a new girlfriend? A fiancée?
Fuck.
I slammed the drawer shut, trying to think.
Coach was one thing—he deserved it. But we’d believed he was single, just like Jim. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone who’d really be looking for him. A simple text saying he was going out of town for a while was going to solve this. The assistant coaches could pick up his slack and no one was meant to miss him.
Would Joanna complicate that plan?
It didn’t matter, really. There was no going back.
Sorry, Joanna. Your boyfriend sucks.