Page 107 of Tormented

“Tuck’s men will move them somewhere else, someplace that they won’t be connected to.”

“And then?” Her sad eyes look up to me, filled with so much misplaced hope.

“And then I’ll tip the cops off to where they are.” I reach down, running my fingers under her jaw. “Don’t worry, Abbey-girl; they’ll get a proper funeral.”

She nods, looking around at the gore that surrounds us. The horrors contained in this room puts Hollywood movies to shame. This kind of shit is one thing to see on the big screen, but in life there’s a kind of realness about it that seeps into who you are. It’s inescapable, and undeniable that to reach this point some pretty sick fucking shit went down first.

You would know . . . .

Yeah, I would. But after doing it as long as I have, I’m kind of conditioned to it. Abbey though? I don’t know.

“Ready to go?” I hold out my hand.

She sighs, setting the dress down in the pile before accepting. “It’s so sad.”

“Not much we can do about it now, though.”

“No,” she replies, a vacancy slipping into her gaze as she comes in for a hug. Her arms slip around my waist and she rests her perfect head against my chest. It feels like we’ve been doing this for years—I wish we had. “It’s far too late to change things now.”