Page 157 of Wicked Little Secret
“Nyssa—”
“I told you it wouldn’t change anything. You’re Valentine. You killed my mother and I’llneverforgive you.”
The tenderness I’d shown her disappears for my equally cold mask. I rise from the bed and begin dressing.
She’ll never believe me… unless she knows the whole truth.
As ugly, hideous, morbid as it is.
“Alright,” I say. “Suit yourself. It’s your choice to refute the truth. I’ve told you I was never the Valentine Killer. But if you must know, I’ll tell you who was. You look just like her.”
32
NYSSA
JUST YOU - JAMES WARBURTON AND JADE PYBUS
Theron’s wordsrender me speechless.
Five words that unload on me like an avalanche, striking me dumb, making the room spin. I sputter out a breath, then shake my head. My lips spread halfway into a disbelieving smile until I shake my head again as if I’ve just heard the most preposterous news imaginable.
I’ve just been told pigs fly. Fish can walk. Dogs can talk. And every other outlandish impossibility that can never be real.
Yet as Theron stands before me, solemn and patient, the real horror reveals itself.
The invisible inkling creeps up on me and whispers in my ear.
It’s true.
“That… can’t be true,” I whisper finally, gathering the sheet to cover myself. I divert my gaze away from his, choosing to stare at the limestone wall instead of him. “You’re lying.”
“We both know it’s the truth, Nyssa. You have tears in your eyes.”
“That’s because… because you’re fucked in the head!” I snap, anger returning to my voice. I draw my knees to my chest, the bedsheet like a shield that separates me from him. “You’re so twisted you think you can manipulate me. You can make me… you can make me feel things and make me come and then what? I’m under your control? FUCK YOU!”
Theron gives no reaction. He barely blinks.
Somehow, his non-reaction is ten times worse. It feels patronizing and insulting.
As if my heart being shredded in half means nothing.
It’s of no consequence to him in this fucked up game of secrets and revenge.
When I can’t bear to let him look at me any longer, I cover my face with my hands. I hide behind them as tears ache for release. Could I be any more pathetic right now? About to cry my eyes out to my crim law professor that’s told me a bigger truth than my own family has?
Aunt Brooklyn never bothered; she was content letting me believe she was my mother and I was seeking revenge in her name.
“If it’s any consolation,” Theron says after a stretch of awkward silence, “I didn’t know about you. I never met you.”
I sniffle, my face still covered. “That’s real convenient for you. A real guilt eraser for fucking me.”
He sighs, the sound tinged with something I can’t place. Regret? Remorse?
“It wasn’t until I was taken in for questioning that I realized what was going on,” he says. “That you were herdaughter. But of course you were—I was drawn to you from the moment I saw you. How could I not see it before?”
“Stop. Just stop.” I wipe at my puffy eyes, still fighting back tears. “I don’t want to hear about how in love and obsessed with my mother you were. In case you haven’t figured it out, it’s fucking disgusting. You disgust me.”
“Your sweet little cunt didn’t think so a few minutes ago.”