Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
Madelyn
I'm riding on a high and a little bit of nerves. After Jackson claimed me as his, all my emotions spilled over into a tear-streaked mess. I cried and buried myself into his chest, relieved that my stepfather is gone. But I also mourned for myself. For the girl who will always remain a bit damaged in Oliver’s wake.
Jackson stayed patient, rubbing my back in silence until I decided enough was enough and went back inside. There's no point in feeling sorry for myself. I made it out alive. But what is going to happen to Oliver's body?
That's the question I ask myself as I stare at his mutilated corpse.
The puncture wounds have nothing on his purple, swollen face.
I smile a little at his shriveled-up dick that still caught in his throat.
See you in hell, motherfucker, I think. After an act like this.
There's no way for me to redeem myself enough for heaven. And I guess I'm okay with that.
“You're going to stay in the house while I get rid of him,” Jackson says as if he read my mind. “Preferably, using that time to take a shower and change clothes.”
“I’ll help you. He's my problem, anyway.”
Jackson wraps his arm around my shoulder and leans close to my ear. “Little fire, your problems are mine to deal with. Clean up. Wait for me.”
His tone indicates that this is very much an order. Usually, I'd have a type of rebuttal, but not this time. Relief washes over me. The last thing I want to do is drag Oliver's body around the property.
“Okay,” I agree.
Jackson's hold shifts to my nape as he gives me a squeeze. The pressure travels down to my belly. “I have Gateley’s guys coming to do a routine strip of the whole place. Give me thirty and I'll be back.”
“I’ll be fine.” I try to assure him.
“Hmm,” he smiles, this one not so sweet. “Good g...” he stops himself before completing the phrase. His gaze goes from Oliver to me. He doesn't apologize for the slip-up. Instead, he watches my face in silence.
Just hearing the phrase is enough to make my hands clammy and my heart race. Even though I can clearly see and know Oliver is dead, it's going to take a lot more time to process that term without trauma attached to it.
“Too soon?” Jackson asks.
I nod, unable to speak yet.
“We will work on it, little fire. For now...” He goes to Oliver and works on releasing the handcuffs.
“This should help the process.” The chains clank against the tub, signaling Oliver's freedom from his deathbed.
Jackson grabs him under the armpits and pulls him out of the tub.
“Would you like to say or do anything else before I dump his remains off the side of a mountain?”
I force myself to really look at my stepfather’s corpse.
Not just at the damage I inflicted but also at the body of the person I've hated for so long.
At the man who can no longer hurt me. For the first time in a while, I can say that my prayers have been answered.
He's gone. Fucking dead and now I can make a new normal. "No, get rid of him."
Jackson motions toward the front of the cabin with his head. “Then get the door.”
I oblige as Jackson picks Oliver up like a sack of potatoes and throws him over his shoulders. He walks through the threshold, allowing me one last glance at Oliver's swollen face. I smile, knowing I’ll never have to see it again as I lock the door behind him.