CHAPTER EIGHT

Anthony stood less than two feet from Lauren. Her arm was being stitched up—a long, slow process because that freak Walker had carved into her so deeply.

Lauren didn’t make a sound as the doctor worked on her. Lauren actually hadn’t spoken at all since she’d opened her eyes. The blue of her gaze seemed dulled, missing the normal sparkle. Too much pain. Too much fear.

A bandage was on her cheek. The doctor had said the wound wasn’t deep enough to need stitches. Her shoulder had been reset—popped back into the joint in a fast, brutal move that had made him swear.

Even as she’d continued to keep silent.

He wanted to take all of her pain away.

Anthony’s hands clenched into fists.

“I want you to stay here overnight,” the doctor said. She was a woman in her early fifties with dark hair and light-cream skin. “You have a concussion, and we need to monitor you for—”

Lauren shook her head. “I can’t stay here.” There was fear in her voice, a tension that pulled at him. He wouldn’t have Lauren afraid. “I hate being in hospitals. They remind me too much—I have to get out.

“Ms. Chandler”—the doctor’s voice firmed but Anthony could see the compassion in her eyes—“you need someone to watch you. I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation. With a concussion, you—”

Lauren’s gaze rose and finally she looked at Anthony. “Will you watch me?”

That soft question almost broke him. Always. “Yes.” He hadn’t been able to let her out of his sight since the cabin. Matt had taken over the hunt in the swamp, and Anthony had gone into the ambulance with Lauren. He’d held her hand the whole way, but she hadn’t known. Her eyes had only opened when the ambulance pulled into the emergency area at the hospital, and then the EMTs had pushed him back so that they could get her out.

He hadn’t been pushed far. With every step that the EMTs had taken, Anthony had remained close. Fear still twisted his guts, and he wasn’t sure if the tight knot would ever go away.

“I’ll have a marshal watching me,” Lauren said, her voice a strained whisper. “What more do I need?”

The doctor frowned at Anthony. “She’s got a grade-two concussion, so when I say watched, I mean I want you in the same room with her at all times. If her pain gets worse, if her speech starts to slur, if she has seizures, you rush her back here right away.”

Anthony nodded.

The doctor exhaled as she removed her gloves. “I’ll give you a sheet with warning signs, but I don’t like this.”

“I don’t like this either.” Lauren’s voice was hoarse. It was breaking the heart he’d tried to pretend he didn’t have.

Lauren was lying on the hospital bed, a thin gown over her. Her clothing had been taken and bagged as evidence. Voyt and his crime scene guys were going over the cabin, and Anthony was hoping the dogs and their handlers from the K-9 unit ran down Walker.

As much as he wanted to join that hunt, his priorities had shifted.

To her.

“One of the cops is supposed to be bringing you some more clothes,” Anthony murmured as the doctor slipped from the room.

Lauren wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was staring straight up at the bright lights overhead.

He edged closer to her. Took her hand.

She flinched.

“Lauren, it’s all right. He’s not going to get you again.”

She laughed. He’d never heard such a brittle sound come from Lauren. “He said he would. Told me he’d be back.” Her tongue slid over her lips. “He said…” Her words trailed away.

Anthony’s fingers tightened around hers. “I don’t give a shit what he said. He’s not going to hurt you.”

Her gaze came to him. There were tears in her eyes.

Something broke inside of him.

“He hurt Jenny.”

Anthony frowned. He didn’t remember a victim named Jenny in Walker’s file.

“I wondered for so long. I used to hope she’d come home, but she never did.” Her breath rushed out. “He hurt Jenny.”

Fuck—Jenny. The name clicked. Jenny was the sister she’d been talking about in the ME’s office. The drumming of his heartbeat echoed in his ears. “Baby, slow down. You’ve got to start at the beginning and tell me what’s happening.”

“My sister…” She swallowed. The small sound was painful to hear. “Walker killed her. He told me—” A tear tracked down her cheek. “He told me he killed Jenny.”

“He was messing with you. His first victim was—”

Her hand twisted in his. Her nails sank into him. “He told me. He knew about the piano lessons. He knew…”

He had to take her into his arms. Carefully, Anthony climbed onto the narrow bed. He positioned his body around hers. “The bastard was trying to get into your head. Whatever happened to your sister—”

Her body was tense and hard against his. “She was supposed to pick me up from school and take me to piano lessons. She never came. Never came…”

His jaw clenched.

“He said he watched her get cut up. That he buried her—and that he would do the same to me…”

The door squeaked open behind them. Anthony looked back, expecting to see the doctor, but instead, he saw the FBI profiler. Cadence had sure made good time getting there. He’d talked to her less than twenty minutes ago on the phone.

Cadence hesitated in the doorway. He knew she’d see—and understand—plenty by the way he was holding Lauren. He’d worked with Cadence on two other cases. The woman was private, smart, tough. In so many ways she reminded him of Lauren.

But she wasn’t Lauren. That was why they’d never clicked—why he never clicked with anyone but Lauren.

No one could ever be just like his Lauren. He could never want anyone else as much.

“I need to ask her some questions,” Cadence murmured as she hesitated in the doorway. “But I can give you a few minutes longer.”

“She has a concussion.” His voice came out clipped. He knew the drill with witnesses, knew they were supposed to tell their stories when they were fresh. But this wasn’t just any witness. It was Lauren, and she was shaking in his arms. “She needs to rest. I’m taking her with me. You can get your answers tomorrow.”

“Anthony…” Cadence sighed out his name. “You understand that isn’t how it works.” She walked into the room, her shoes nearly silent on the tiled floor. “Lauren, surely that isn’t how you want this to work? You’re a DA, you have to want us to catch Walker as fast as we can.”

Lauren pulled away from Anthony, putting a few inches between them that he did not want. “Someone warned him.”

At those words—three simple words—the whole case changed.

“Someone warned Walker that the marshal was on his trail.” The trembling of her body increased. “Someone was watching…”

Anthony glanced over and caught the slight flare of Cadence’s golden eyes. “How do you know that?” Cadence asked.

Anthony looked back at Lauren. A furrow appeared between her brows. “I heard a phone ring. The guy called Walker. Told him.”

“Are you certain?” Cadence pressed as she edged closer.

“I know the sound of a phone.” Now Lauren’s voice was clipped. Annoyed. “He left me so he could answer it. That was when I managed to break the chair and get to my feet.”

Anthony remembered the sight of the broken chair. The duct tape.

The knives.

“I heard him. He told the person on the phone…” She drew in a deep breath. “That he had me.”

He’d suspected Walker had been using a partner to get out of jail, but this was different than having a getaway buddy.

Anthony kept silent now, waiting for Lauren to finish.

“He yelled into the phone, ‘We were going to kill her.’ We.” The word vibrated with fear and fury. “Not just him…we.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

A fast glance at Cadence showed the profiler was watching Lauren with hawk-like intensity.

“I ran for the door,” Lauren said. Her hand lifted. Touched the back of her head. “He stopped me. Said we’d finish soon when…‘he’ could join us.” Her hand dropped. “Then he slammed my head into the door and I passed out, I guess. I’m not really sure what happened. I woke up and saw the swirl of ambulance lights.”

What happened was that Walker had raced out of there. Anthony hadn’t given chase, but Wesley had joined the K-9 team and started hunting as quickly as he could. When Anthony had checked in just a few minutes before, Wesley had told him that the dogs had followed Walker’s trail to the water’s edge.

The bastard sure liked to use boats for escape. The cops were out on their own boats then, too. Cops and deputies—any damn one his marshals had been able to find—they were hunting on the water and on land. Looking for signs of Walker and where he’d taken his boat.

“Walker’s been working with a partner all along.” Lauren’s words were bitter. “Since he killed my sister. He told me that he watched her being killed. They killed her! Walker and whoever that sick freak is who helped him!”

Cadence was near the bed. “You’re sure Walker said he watched?”

Anthony glared at Cadence. Had she missed the whole sister part? This interview was ripping Lauren apart.

“Yes,” Lauren hissed. “He watched.” Her lips twisted into a chilling smile. “He said Jenny started the circle, and I would finish it.”

Cadence inhaled on a sharp breath.

“He could be bullshitting,” Anthony said. He wouldn’t put it past Walker to screw with Lauren’s head. Another way to punish her. “Maybe he heard about your sister—”

You didn’t even know about her,” Lauren said as her shoulders slumped. “I don’t talk about Jenny very much. Not anymore. It hurts too much.”

It also made him understand her more. Made him understand why she was so determined to get justice for the victims out there.

She’d never gotten justice for her own sister.

The hospital room door opened again. Paul entered and his gaze flew to Lauren, heated. Anthony hated the emotion he saw there.

The cop still had strong feelings for Lauren.

Join the club, buddy.

No, there was no club. The detective just needed to back the hell off.

“I brought some fresh clothes for you,” Paul said as he advanced toward Lauren.

Anthony scooped the bag of clothes out of his hands. “I thought you were staying at the scene.”

Paul’s eyes narrowed on him. “I needed to check on Lauren.”

“You need to find Walker.”

Paul bared his teeth in a tiger’s smile. “I thought that was your job, Marshal. Fugitive apprehension and all.”

Fuck this. Anthony’s hand fisted around the bag. “If you had let me take the shot, I would’ve apprehended the fugitive, and Lauren wouldn’t be in this hospital right now.” But Paul had jumped between him and his prey. “You pull that shit again, and I won’t hesitate.”

Paul swallowed. “I didn’t think you could stop him without hurting her.”

“You think she isn’t hurt?” His voice dropped but he knew Lauren could still hear him. “I had that bastard in my sights. Don’t ever stop me again.” The words came from him in a lethal snarl as Anthony fought hard for his control. He was walking a razor’s edge, and he knew it.

“Paul…” Lauren’s voice was quiet, a softness in the storm brewing inside of Anthony. “He knew about Jenny. He said he watched her die and that he knew where she was buried.”

Paul swore.

As he watched the detective’s reaction to the news, Anthony realized Paul knew all about Jenny Chandler. Lauren had shared her past with the cop, but not with him. That fact made his anger twist even more until he realized…

I never shared my past with her. He’d deliberately tried to keep their relationship only in the moment. No past. No future. That had been them.

The whole no-future bit sure had changed when he’d realized Lauren was facing death. Her future had become the most important thing to him.

Paul shook his head. “He was messin’ with you—” the detective began.

“Why does everyone say that?” Lauren’s voice rose, breaking. “He knew things about her…about what she said at the end. And his eyes…I believe what he said. I believe every word. He was there when Jenny died.” A sob took the last of her words.

It was time he took Lauren out of there.

“You can talk to her again tomorrow,” Anthony said, glancing between the profiler and the detective. “She needs rest, dammit.” He wouldn’t let her fall apart in front of them.

“Lauren…” Cadence hesitated. “Did he look the same as his prison photos? Has he altered his appearance?”

“I couldn’t see his face perfectly, not with the shadows. There was just a lantern in the cabin.” Her lips pressed together. After a moment, she said, “His hair was short. And I think he had a beard growing. Stubble on his jaw.”

“Did he mention the name of whoever was on the phone?” Cadence asked. “Did he give you any hint about who—”

“He never said his name.” Her breath sighed out as she looked up at Anthony.

“Are you sure it’s a he?” Cadence pushed her.

Back off. Anthony bit the words back.

“Walker said, ‘he.’” Lauren was adamant. “I know exactly what I heard.” Then she shook her head. Tears glinted in the gaze that she didn’t take from Anthony. “Please, I’m hurting. I want to get out of here. Dammit, I just—I can’t breathe in here! I need to get out of this hospital!”

Paul shuffled toward the bed. “You still can’t stand hospitals, huh?” His fingers brushed over her uninjured cheek. Anthony realized he hated that intimate touch. A touch that spoke of emotions and a shared past. “They still remind you of your mom?”

She gave a low nod. “After all the time I saw her wasting away…” The sound of her swallow was a painful click. “The place is just a morgue to me.”

Paul knew her well, too well, and Anthony felt a jolt of shame rock through him. He should be the one to know the private details of Lauren’s life. Her secrets should be his.

Not the detective’s.

“I can give you police protection,” Paul said as his hand dropped away from Lauren. “That room at my place is still waiting for you.”

It can keep waiting.

Anthony didn’t say the words because the choice wasn’t his. It was Lauren’s.

After a tense moment, Lauren shook her head. “Anthony’s promised to keep watch over me tonight. Dr. Davis gave him the okay to take me.”

I’ll watch over you, baby, all night long.

Her gaze stayed on Paul. “I want you to pull Jenny’s file. I had a copy at my house but...” She broke off and lifted a trembling hand to shove back her hair. “I can’t go there now. I need to see her file again.”

“I’ll need to look at that file, too,” Cadence added.

If Walker had been killing that long ago—and it sure seemed he had—then it would change the man’s profile. He would have been just a kid himself back then. A kid with a taste for death.

“If you need me,” Paul said to Lauren, as he leaned toward her, “you call me anytime.”

“Thank you.”

Paul glanced up, and his eyes collided with Anthony’s. Anthony wanted that guy away from Lauren, and if he didn’t move soon…

He backed away. Finally, the guy filed out of the room, with Cadence following behind him. Lauren eased to the side of the bed and tried to stand. Her body shook, and he was there instantly, steadying her. “I’ve got you.”

Her lashes lifted and her stare met his. The blue still wasn’t the vibrant color he loved, but he’d make sure the sparkle came back. “My parents…they both died without ever knowing what had happened to Jenny.” She swallowed. “I think they both thought, hoped, that she was still alive.”

He held her tighter.

“Maybe that was better,” she whispered, the shimmer of tears sweeping her eyes. “Better to have the hope than to know—”

A tear leaked down her cheek.

With fingers that weren’t as steady as he wanted them to be, Anthony wiped away the tear.

Lauren’s chin lifted. “I need to leave now.”

Any fucking thing she wanted—that was what he’d do. “I’ll help you dress,” he offered. With her stitches and concussion, she’d need help. He bet Dr. Davis would insist Lauren leave the hospital in a wheelchair. It was usually the way the hospitals worked, especially with liability issues.

She gave a little nod. Very carefully, he untied the hospital gown and let it fall to the floor. Lauren was still in front of him, barely seeming to even breathe. The sight of her body made him ache—he always wanted her. But this wasn’t about lust. This was about taking care of her. He kept his touch light as he carefully helped her with her panties and bra. She didn’t speak at all. Didn’t make eye contact with him.

He watched her face when he slid the sleeve of the blouse over her injured arm. She flinched and he froze, but she whispered, “It’s all right.” He hurried to finish.

It’s not all right. Her words were a lie.

It wasn’t going to be all right until he had her safe with him.

Until Walker was dead.

When she was dressed, he slipped a pair of comfortable shoes on her and eased her back onto the bed. He went to the door, where a wheelchair was waiting for him. A few minutes later, Lauren was secure in the chair. He started to move behind her, but she caught his arm.

“Thank you.”

She shouldn’t be thanking him. She’d been taken on his watch.

“I knew you’d find me.” Her voice was certain. “I just…I didn’t want you to find me dead.”

He schooled his expression, but she was already glancing away.

Finding her dead would have been his worst fucking nightmare.

What the hell would I have done then?

* * *

Cadence watched as Anthony wheeled Lauren out of the hospital. Did the marshal even realize how much his expression gave away? Probably not.

“We never found any indication that Walker had committed other murders. We thought we’d found all of his kills,” Paul said as he came up behind Cadence. The detective sounded frustrated, confused, and pissed.

She glanced over at him. “Maybe you did find all of his kills.”

Paul’s brows climbed.

“Did you miss that whole part from Lauren about her sister?”

He gave a low whistle. “Jennifer Chandler. I remember when that story made headlines around here. She was sixteen, captain of the cheerleading squad, class president—you know those kids, the popular ones everyone misses the instant they’re gone.”

“Her murderer was never caught?” Cadence asked.

“Her body was never found. Police weren’t even sure it was a murder.”

Lauren was at the end of the hallway now. Anthony glanced back at them. Cadence noted that he’d schooled his expression this time. Too late, Anthony. She’d seen, and she was pretty sure the cop had, too.

“The detectives back then thought that maybe she’d run away, but her family never bought that story.” He rolled his shoulders, as if pushing away a bad memory. “I caught Jenny’s file as a cold case a few years ago. That’s how Lauren and I got together.”

Only they weren’t together any longer, and Cadence knew if Anthony had his way, they wouldn’t be again.

A rough sigh broke from him. “Lauren has spent her whole life trying to find her big sister, and to discover that Walker was the one—hell, I can’t even imagine what she’s feeling right now.”

Shock had seemed to encase Lauren when Cadence spoke to her. A brittle veneer of ice that had looked like it might crack at any moment. Lauren hadn’t just learned about her sister’s fate—she’d faced death, too.

When the shock wore off, Lauren would have a hard fall.

Good thing that it appeared Anthony would be there to catch her.

She pushed her hands into her pockets. “Walker told Lauren he watched her sister die.”

“Twisted fuck.”

“But he didn’t actually say he killed her.” That was the point they all seemed to be missing. She’d have to talk to Lauren again to be sure. Cadence planned to analyze all of the old Bayou Butcher files again. “Are you sure the Butcher was just one killer?”

Paul blinked. “One killer is who we convicted, ma’am.”

She waved that away. “The crimes, the abductions…are you certain only one killer could do all of that?” She wasn’t. She was convinced it had been two men all along. “If he just watched Jennifer Chandler’s death, then that means someone else was there to do the actual killing.”

Paul shook his head. “No, ma’am. You’re wrong on this. The old ME checked over all the Butcher’s victims. Based on their injuries, she said they were all killed by a left-handed man, approximately six foot two, one hundred eighty pounds—Walker.”

“Yes, but—”

“When that poor babysitter was being carved up, the Petersons only saw Walker in their house. Nobody else.”

“Maybe the other killer wasn’t killing them.” Anger beat through her words. She knew killers, and she understood just how deadly some relationships could be. “Maybe it was his turn to watch.”

Two killers. It would sure explain how Walker seemed to be moving so easily between the city and the swamp. Maybe he wasn’t doing the moving. Maybe he was hiding out in the swamp, where he was most comfortable, while someone else hunted in the city.

“Walker’s blood was found on Karen Royce,” Paul said. His lips thinned. “I know the FBI likes to run with their theories, but what we’ve got here is just one sick prick of a killer.”

“I actually hope you’re right about that.” She’d only handled an alpha team once before.

Alpha team.

The term she used for two serial killers—two brutal, incredibly dangerous killers, who just happened to pair up because they recognized the same monster in each other.

In such a team, one man would always be the dominant, the alpha, the one who issued the orders.

The second man—or woman—would be willing to do anything, go to any lengths, to please the alpha.

Separate, they were dangerous. Lethal to society.

Together, they were a walking nightmare.

“I need to talk to Steve Lynch.”

“The bastard should have known he couldn’t deal with Walker.” Anger tightened Paul’s face. “We could’ve helped him. If he’d just come to us…”

The cop wouldn’t have been attacked. Lauren wouldn’t have been taken. As for Helen Lynch? Would she still be alive?

Maybe.

“Walker doesn’t trade,” Paul said with a slow, hard shake of his head. “He just kills.”

It was time for her to talk with Steve. To let him know that the dawn meeting hadn’t gone as he’d hoped. Time to tell him he would never be seeing his Helen again.

She straightened her shoulders.

I hate this part of my job.

* * *

The hotel room door had been repaired. Lauren stared at the door, her body bone tired, as Anthony secured her room.

“I thought about moving you to a new location, but with the other agents here, this is the safest place for you right now,” he said. “I’m working on getting another place for you, but I didn’t want you to wait any longer. You need your rest.” He glanced toward the door connecting their rooms. He followed her stare. “Sorry, baby, but that’s not happening tonight.”

He’d called her baby before. She turned her head. His voice deepened when he used the word.

His gaze was on her now. “I’m staying in here with you. The doctor said I need to stay as close as possible.”

He’d had her naked less than thirty minutes before. There wasn’t much that was closer than that.

“You aren’t supposed to sleep yet, so I’m just going to stay here. If you want to talk, then talk to me. Or don’t say a word. Just sit there, and let me watch you so I know you’re safe.”

He sounded…afraid.

She’d never heard quite that note in his voice before. He was the big, bad marshal. Anthony wasn’t supposed to fear anything. “I need to shower.” To wash away the blood that was still on her. To wash away the memories.

Like anything could wash those away.

He gave a small nod, a jerky move of his head. “I can help you. I’ll just—”

“No.” The word was harsher than she’d meant, but she couldn’t stand his hands on her body right then. She was too raw. Too scared. Too needy—too desperate to stop the pain. “I can make it.”

His jaw locked. “Fine. I’ll wait here.” His gaze streaked down her body, then flicked away. “But if you need me, just say the word and I’ll come running.”

Lauren headed for the bathroom door. On the threshold, she paused. “This isn’t your fault.”

A rough laugh. “I was supposed to protect you.”

“I’m the one who wanted to go to the scene. With my job, I go to plenty of dangerous spots.” She looked over her shoulder at him as she braced her hand on the door frame. “This isn’t on you. I took the risk. I walked right in, knowing what waited for me.” Not what, who.

Walker.

“The cop who was hurt…” Talk about an image she’d never be able to get out of her mind. That blade, bursting from his chest. “McHenry is going to pull through, that’s what you said, right?”

Another jerky nod.

Thank you, God. She’d been so afraid the man would die.

“And you’re still alive,” Anthony said, his voice getting harder, stronger. “The cop is alive. Walker didn’t win this time.”

“He got away.” If he hadn’t gotten the call and run, she would be dead. Lauren knew it.

“For the moment,” Anthony agreed. “But he can’t run forever. No one can.”

Lauren shook her head. Her temples throbbed. So did the giant knot on the back of her head. She couldn’t stand the feel of the dried blood on her for another second. She walked into the bathroom.

And left Anthony behind.

* * *

Jon tied his boat to the small dock. The red and gold colors of dawn were streaking across the sky. He’d barely slipped out in time last night. With so many patrols sweeping, he’d needed to alternate between using the boat’s motor and paddling with the oars as he made his way to this spot. Whenever he’d gotten a little too close to civilization—even if civilization was a run-down cabin—he’d cut the motor.

He was so much smarter than the cops realized.

The dock groaned behind him.

Walker swore even as he grabbed for the knife he’d strapped to his hip.

“You don’t need that with me,” a familiar voice drawled.

The tension eased from his shoulders as Walker let go of his knife. He turned to face his partner. “You beat me here.”

“Course I did. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder every second while I was traveling. The cops aren’t after me.”

Walker swallowed. The guy was still pissed. “I did five fucking years for you. Five years—so don’t use that shit tone with me!” He took a hard step forward.

The guy didn’t back up a step. He never did. “You did that damn time for yourself. Because you got sloppy. You weren’t supposed to go after the girl that night. You were supposed to wait for me.”

But the girl had been perfect. She’d smelled so sweet, and looked so good. He could still remember when he’d first seen her at the gas station. She’d run in, her phone glued to her ear, and he’d heard her talking about her babysitting gig. She’d stood in front of him in the line, gabbing on her phone, and she’d said she would be alone.

The girl had even rattled off her address to the friend on the other end of the line.

Too easy. Too perfect of a hunt to pass up.

But the parents came home and screwed everything up.

“You weren’t supposed to go for her,” that dark voice continued, “and you weren’t supposed to go after Lauren so soon. We have a fucking plan, remember?”

He remembered he had his own plan. One that involved him being alone with Lauren. Cutting her. Again and again.

His partner wouldn’t watch, not with her.

“She owes me,” Jon spat and took another step forward.

“I know.” Understanding because he always understood Jon, as no one else ever had. “We’re going to make her pay for everything, but first there are others we can take. Others who aren’t as protected as the DA.”

Others. His mouth went dry. “I get to use my knife?”

“You used it on Stacy.”

Was that anger in his tone? His partner had never been angry before.

I gave up five years of my life for him. I could’ve talked. But I kept quiet.

Five long fucking years. The days, the months, the years had slipped away. He’d waited, but no new trials had come, thanks to Lauren and that fucking judge. Jon had even tried to use Lynch, tried to force new evidence down the judge’s throat.

It hadn’t worked.

Escape had been his only option. An escape that had taken too fucking long.

Lauren Chandler is a dead woman.

He wouldn’t serve time for anyone. Wouldn’t let anyone ever push him around again. He was strong. He was power.

Everyone else was prey.

The man before him had been the one to change Jon’s life. Only he hadn’t been a man when they’d met.

Just a kid…like me.

So incredibly like me.

They’d grown together, learned together, killed together.

There were some bonds that just couldn’t be broken. “I’ve missed you,” Jon confessed.

Silence.

Jon wet his lips. Had saying that been a mistake? Shit, he didn’t want to screw this up.

“I think it’s time for us to enjoy some good old times again.”

Yes.

“We’ll make them pay for locking you away. We’ll make them all pay.” A pause, then, “Tell you what, Jonny…”

Only his partner called him Jonny, a leftover from their days as kids.

“This time, you handle the kill, and I’ll watch.”

Jon’s lips stretched wide. This was it. His turn to show just what he could do.

All he needed was a victim.

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