Chapter Fifteen #3
“Dennis didn’t know I could shapeshift. I didn’t share that side of my power with anyone except Mom and Issy.
Before he showed up, I shifted my face to look like Issy.
It gave me enough time to knock him out and carry him to one of the buildings.
I prepared chains inside, a chair, and tape.
” I’m transported to that day, and I remember everything about the moment.
“He was wearing a hoodie my mom bought him.
While he was unconscious, I cut it off his body.
The nail marks were still visible on his chest. She fought hard.
I taped his mouth and attached his arms and legs to the chair. I waited.
“When he became aware of the situation, I was twirling my knife in my hand. It was odd.” I shake my head.
“He wasn’t afraid. I had all the advantages, yet his eyes crinkled.
It was a big game to him, and even though he was going to die, he thought he had won.
I spent four days torturing him. I pulled off his fingernails.
He didn’t scream. His expression was filled with pain, but he didn’t make a sound.
I decided to see how far I could go. He needed to be in as much agony as my sister.
After every cut, stab, and slash, I let him heal slightly. In the end, he screamed.
“Mom and Issy tracked my scent. They were worried about me.” I look at Rylee.
“She was worried about me. Fuck.” I rub my eyes.
“When Issy saw the body, she grabbed my knife and lunged toward him. Dennis was dead, but I didn’t stop her.
I let her stab him over and over. She cried and yelled.
Afterward, they helped me bury the body.
I didn’t want them to, yet they insisted.
Foxy, I am amazed at the strength of women.
Their hands were covered in blood and dirt, determined to participate in the murder of a shifter.
He betrayed all of us, but violated Issy as if it were normal. ” I bow my head.
“Oh, Ezra.” She climbs over the console and onto my lap. “Issy took some of her power back.”
“She shouldn’t have had to,” I growl, burying my face in her hair. “After that day, I hardly let her out of my sight. It was another man who hurt my family. I would kill Dennis again and again for Issy. Yet, I couldn’t understand why I had to.”
“You’re a good man.” She wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Of course, you can’t understand it. They are lucky to have you.”
“I tried to make up for it,” I say softly. “I didn’t fight with her. I took her to and from school. When I graduated, I stuck around. I didn’t want to leave her there. I was treating her as if she were fragile.”
“What did she say to that?”
“She set me straight. I still saw her as she appeared that day. Broken. Abused and angry. We talked, and she explained how she was feeling. She wasn’t ignoring what happened, but trying to move on from it.
I wasn’t helping,” I sigh. “So, I backed off. I didn’t grill her when she left the house. I gave her space.”
“Did she talk to someone about what happened?” she asks.
“Mom found a therapist, and it certainly helped more than me following her around every minute of the day. I glared at every boy who came within two feet of her.” I laugh. “I get why she was tired of me. We moved on, and she healed as much as she could.”
“Did Dennis’s disappearance get noticed?”
“Yeah, but they never found the body. He lied to me. His family didn’t live with him.
There was an old house on the edge of town that he was squatting in.
They found his things. After that, they just assumed he was another runaway who moved on, which was fortunate for us since I wasn’t as skilled then as I am now with disposing of a body.
” I brush her hair back, gripping, and gently ease her away. “Don’t cry.” I wipe her cheeks.
“Let’s go inside,” she says.
“Careful climbing out.”
Opening my door, I help her out, grab the keys, and stand beside her.
She wraps her hand around my arm, and I lock the car.
We walk into the building in silence. My emotions are raw.
I always felt guilty for feeling anything other than anger for Issy.
Dennis made me like him, trust his intentions, and it hurt that he ripped my world apart.
I couldn’t trust my friends anymore, so I distanced myself.
Shade moved to town, and it took months to trust the friendship he offered.
I didn’t talk about what happened until years later.
He listened and understood. Rylee is the fourth person to know.
I blink and realize we are standing in the kitchen. The night was supposed to go differently. I didn’t want to bring back memories for my mate.
“He hurt you, too,” she says quietly.
“It was nothing compared to what she went through,” I rumble.
“No, but you can’t compare the two.” She holds out her hand. “Can I show you something?”
I don’t hesitate to twine my fingers with hers. She leads me toward her bedroom, and I know inviting someone into her personal space is a big step for her. We enter the room, and she moves away. She walks to the bed and fiddles with the comforter.
“Rylee?” I frown, sensing her nervousness.
“This room is the one place that I can feel safe,” she whispers, stepping to the head of the bed. “I can’t speak for Issy. I can assume how she felt, but every woman deals with trauma differently.” She moves a sheet that is draped over the side of the mattress. “This is where I hide sometimes.”
I clench my fists. My mate should never have to hide.
If I could bring them back to life to kill them again, I would.