Page 252 of I Will Break You

“Tom?” I croak.

When he doesn’t move, I creep forward, my pulse pounding hard enough to burst a vessel. He’s probably pretending so he can lure me close for a surprise attack, just as I did earlier when I got him to lick my face.

I crouch beside his outstretched hand and stab my dagger into his palm. When he doesn’t flinch, I roll him onto his side and rifle through his pockets, finding a bunch of keys.

Not wanting to waste a single moment, I scramble to my feet, clutching the keys, and rush to the exit, praying that one of them will be my salvation.

My mind goes on autopilot as I unlock the door and sprint out of the black-and-white-tiled hallway into the courtyard. Up ahead, beyond the graveyard, the mausoleums and the trees surrounding the cemetery, black smoke billows toward the sky.

Xero.

Any certainty that I’ve ended that monster is shaken by his larger-than-life, larger-than-death image in my mind, filling me with renewed terror.

My fingers find a car key and I jog to the black sedan parked around the back of the rectory. I throw open the driver’s side door, slide into the seat, and pull out.

Gravel crunches beneath the wheels as I drive through the courtyard, passing St. Anne’s Church, and exiting through its iron gates. Relief washes through my veins like freshly sanctified holy water.

I’m free.

Driving to the highway, I take the route toward Alderney Hill, hoping to put enough distance between me and the horrors of the morning. Wind rushes through the gap in the window, carrying with it the scent of burning lies.

No matter how far I go, each time I glance in the rearview mirror, I see smoke billowing on the horizon, which is impossible. Killing Xero must have brought back my hallucinations. But I’d rather be delusional than defiled.

Or dead.

When the car takes me to the foot of Alderney Hill, the usual smell of juniper trees is gone, replaced by the overwhelming stench of smoke. It’s my brain’s way of reminding me that I set up a man to burn.

I park between the trees and complete the rest of my journey on foot. By now, the sun dips toward the horizon, casting long shadows that stretch across the ground like wraiths. Ignoring the ominous sight, I continue toward Mom’s house.

A turquoise Aston Martin sits in the driveway, making my heart skip a beat.

She’s back.

I can finally get some answers before she dies.

Trudging forward through the trees surrounding the house, I creep toward the back door. It’s unlocked, with footprints leading across the mud room into the kitchen. I walk around them to the counter and extract a knife from the block.

As I round the island, my foot catches on something solid. Istumble forward, reaching out to steady myself, but my shoes skid on something slippery.

What the hell was that?

My gaze drops to the floor. It’s blood.

I turn around, but all I see is a leg. Whoever it belongs to is concealed by the rest of the island.

My heart pounds as I creep forward, my throat spasming. What the hell could have happened here?

Inching closer, I follow the leg, finding Mom lying on the floor. Blood trickles from a neck wound and pools around her lifeless body.

It takes a moment of blinking to process what I’m seeing. This isn’t a hallucination. Did I do this? I shake off that thought. It couldn’t have been me. I only just got the knife. The amount of blood on the floor is too much to be fresh.

“Mom?”

Her eyes are open, and she stares sightlessly at the beamed ceiling. Who did this? Xero? Delta? Uncle Clive?

I drop to my knees beside her, my knife slipping to the floor.

“Mom?” I repeat, my trembling fingers reaching for her face.