Chapter 1
ONE
KAT
Abead of sweat trickles down my lower back as I fidget from foot to foot.
The line of graduates inches toward the stage in their black gowns. Mine itches like a motherfucker at my wrists. I just want the ceremony to be over. For all I care, they can shove my degree where the sun doesn’t shine. I have zero intentions of using it.
There’s no degree required for going on a killing spree to rid the world of the scum who scarred my man.
As of yet, a Bachelor’s in Revenge doesn’t exist.
Pity.
The woodlined hall is packed with people.
Some eagerly try to catch their graduate’s eye to wave; others look utterly bored from the three hours of speeches and handing over of degree papers.
It didn’t take me long to locate my mother and father among the hubbub of faces.
My mother’s mouth turns downwards in disgust at the tightly packed seats that force her hip-to-hip with the toddler-filled lap of another lady, while my dad stands near the back with a handful of older men.
Not talking, all actively avoiding being seated with the masses.
The guy behind me nudges me forward when I don’t fill the gap left by the woman in front of me.
‘Keep your panties on,’ I whisper. ‘It’s not like you’re going to get there any faster.’
‘Pay attention then.’
Urgh. The sooner I’m away from all these business bros, the better.
Some of them are so utterly insufferable.
Walking away from my degree six months ago was a near constant temptation.
All I wanted was to hole up in bed with Liam, my former child friend come stalker come lover.
Hell, he is more than a lover; he’s my god damned obsession. I can’t get enough of him.
Completing my degree had come with many nights of reward fucking after I finished a part of an essay or a revision session.
Liam would watch me study, then devour me for getting through it.
The ravishing made the work tolerable, but truthfully I’m still a little afraid of what my parents will say when they meet him.
Dropping out of my university course would have had them over me like a heat rash on a sunny day.
No, thank you.
I can’t see Liam among the sea of faces; I’d recognise him in a heartbeat.
From his inky dark eyes, rimmed with the thickest of lashes, to the scars that litter his face.
God, I’ve spent so many hours tracing each scar with my lips and my tongue, breathing acceptance into the man who’s had it torn from him his whole life.
Another step forward, and still no sign of him.
He wouldn’t miss my graduation.
He doesn’t miss anything.
Being obsessed over should make me wary. It would have been suffocating from anyone else, but with Liam? I feed on his possessiveness. I long for it.
Nothing pleases me more than those eyes of his darkening before he pins me to the nearest hard surface and makes me forget my bloody name.
Knowing the danger we’re about to face, we haven’t let a moment go by without relishing in the now. There’s a very good chance the future will bring injury, imprisonment, or death.
My pulse quickens as fear gnaws at me.
We could call the plan off. We’ve spoken about it often enough. But the longer we delay, the more vulnerable children will get hurt the way Liam did. Neither of us is naive enough to think those men will have stopped indulging in their sicknesses.
The time for phase eradicate the motherfuckers is upon us.
It’s not like we haven’t killed before. Kind of. Liam’s killed many; I’ve killed one and a bit. Liam’s dad, albeit I hadn’t really meant to kill him, given that I was only eight. And then Sam. Sure, Liam did the grunt work, but there’s no doubting I am complicit in his death.
My part of the queue draws nearer the stage, and I still can’t see Liam, but I catch Ellie’s eye, smiling at the over-the-top excited wave she gives. Lifting a hand, I wave back and grin.
The guilt of killing her crazy boyfriend, Sam, and lying to her about it is finally beginning to feel like less of a burden.
I barely slept for the first month, between the police grilling Ellie and her sobbing about Sam’s disappearance, knowing I’d yeeted Sam down a well; the guilt was a lot to bear.
The cycle of abuse all too often ends with victims becoming perpetrators in some way, so Liam and I intend to funnel our rage into good. If murder can ever be deemed good.
As I near the stage, I wipe my sweaty palms on my gown.
Where’s Liam?
It’s not until my feet hit the stage that I see him, in the far corner of the room, seated between two grannies who are busy nattering at him.
He smiles softly and accepts what I can only assume is some kind of purse-scented boiled sweet from one.
His face breaks into a panty-melting grin as he meets my gaze before I’m swept up in actually accepting my degree.
I shake sticky palms and accept congratulations while I dole out the thank-yous.
In a moment, I’m swept off stage and back into the mass of gowned former students, losing sight of Liam altogether.
Another forty sweaty minutes later, we spill out into the expansive courtyard, thankful for the fresh summer air. The black gowns throw me off as I search for my people through the crowd.
‘Kat! Congratulations,’ Ellie squeals as she tackles me from the side, squeezing me half to death. ‘So proud of you.’
‘Thank you,’ I laugh, squeezing her back.
‘Thought I was going to die in there; would it kill them to open a window or two?’ Ellie pulls a handheld fan from her purse and points it at her exposed neck.
‘They know it’s their last chance to torture us.’
‘We’re free!’ Ellie says, her hair dancing in the artificial breeze from her fan.
Half a dozen guys look her way, eating up the ample cleavage she’s sporting.
If she could bottle up the raw sex appeal she has, she’d be rich.
She’s not even trying. I hope the next guy who comes along is a belter.
Ellie deserves to be adored, not used. I want to see someone making her as happy as Liam makes me.
‘Hell, yeah,’ I say, joining Ellie in bouncing with glee. This degree course has felt like a chain holding me down for years. A leash still held by my overbearing parents. Now I just need to find a way to tell them that I don’t want to take on the family business.
Thick arms circle my waist, and I twist sharply. Liam looks down at me with those delectable eyes, his face a picture of pride and yearning.
‘You survived it,’ he whispers before pulling me to his lips, kissing me like it’s been years since we touched, not a matter of hours. Not that I mind. I lean into his attention, sliding my tongue over his while I sink my fingers into his hair.
‘Katherine?’
Oh good gravy.
I’d forgotten about them. Peeling my mouth from Liam’s, I see my mother’s disconcerted face.
‘What in god’s name are you doing?’
Kissing my universe, thank you very much.
The thought flashes in my head, but I can’t speak the words.
It’s like being around my parents forces some kind of fear filter over me.
It’s not that I’m scared of them, as such.
Not in the way Liam had feared his father.
Being near them makes me feel like the little kid desperate for their approval.
And I have a feeling I’m not going to get it tongue-deep in my tattooed, scarred boyfriend.
‘Um.’ Come on, Kat. Stop being a little bitch.
Liam squeezes my shoulders before offering out a hand. ‘Mr Elliott, Mrs Elliott, I’m Liam.’
Neither moves to accept the handshake, and I feel heat flushing my face.
‘We’re, uh, together. Liam is Ellie’s brother.’
My mother glares, while my father coldly assesses Liam’s dark jeans and T-shirt that expose the dark ivy tattoos and scars snaking up his forearms.
I find the scars hot.
My parents, however, look utterly mortified.
Restrained hurt crosses Liam’s face. I’ve neglected to tell him that I haven’t told my parents about us yet.
Our strained relationship isn’t news to him, but keeping him a secret is.
Not that I’m keeping him a secret, as such.
My parents have a knack for ruining anything I enjoy in life to keep me in line with their expectations.
And Liam won’t fit into their life plan for me.
They’ll want me marrying one of their golf club chums’ sons.
Guys with double-barrelled everything and egos inflated by their daddy’s bank balance.
They won’t understand. They’ll see him as too broken, not understanding how his broken pieces fit into my own and create something magical for us both.
And I don’t want them to.
I want them nowhere near what we have.
Reaching for Liam’s hand, I squeeze his fingers and step a little in front of him.
‘Thank you for coming,’ I say, brushing over the awkwardness in the way they taught me to. ‘It’s good to see you both.’
‘Katherine.’ My mother’s voice is stiff, like it physically hurts her to see me with Liam. ‘Let’s go somewhere we can talk. Alone.’
Father nods stiffly, and deep inside me, my guts twist. I’m a whole-ass adult, but beneath their glares I’m five again.
‘So sorry, we have dinner plans.’ Liam pulls me back against him and steadies a hand over my hip. It’s like a balm.
Swallowing, I take his escape. ‘The reservation is only for three people.’
‘It’s not even three o’clock,’ my father says, his eyes narrowing.
Ellie slides an arm through mine and gives a dazzling smile. ‘Kat and I have a whole makeup and hair thing booked. To celebrate. You know how it is!’
They don’t know at all.
I’m a former rich kid with a list of dickheads to kill with my hot boyfriend.
Thank fuck they know so little about who I really am.
Or what I’m capable of.