Page 67 of Fragile Twisted Vows
“Oh, but I do,” I smile, a sinister grin, even though I want to punish Lucy immediately for exposing herself so soon.
I had a plan for all of this and she fucking ruined it.
She fucking lied.
“I’ve cared about her for quite a while. Especially when I started fucking her in our bed three years ago.” I grin and all the color drains from her face.
A speed start to the plan, I guess I have to release Michael’s blackmail sooner than intended. Which means the wedding needs to get here ASAP.
“You don’t mean that,” she sneers and I press the button for security.
“Oh, but I do, sweetheart. Because you don’t hold a candle to that woman, I can assure you,” I growl, all truth coming out then, even though I’m so immensely pissed at Lucy for lying to me.
Even though I’ve been doing it to her since day one. Because I’ve been doing it to protect her. Just as I did that night three years ago when I ripped that slimy monster from her screaming ?bottom? and beat him until he was lifeless and dumped into the Hudson river.
Something nobody knows about.
“I can press charges for this, you know,” she growls as she rubs at the red marks on her throat.
I shrug as soon as security shows up.
“Not really, you’re trespassing. Technically, it was self-defense. I’m sure you know all about that right?” I narrow my eyes on her as she sneers.
“Get her out here and bar her from the premises immediately. She’s on the do not enter list anyways,” I say with a wave of my hand.
Security grabs her as she bitches and struggles the whole way, cursing at both them and myself until the door slams behind her.
I sigh as I pour myself a glass of whiskey and drain it in one gulp.
I’ll need half of this bottle before I go home and confront Lucille. She has no idea what’s coming for her.
twenty-one
Lucy
I’m sitting on my bed, reading a powerpoint from my sophomore year when Damien nearly kicks down my door.
It’s late, nearly midnight when he enters. I’ve been worried about where he’s been all day, even sent a few texts on the new phone he’s given me and still, no response.
Until now.
And judging by the furious look on his face and pungent odor of whiskey coming off him, I can tell it’s best he didn’t respond. Except right now, he looks terrifying. He feels terrifying.
He stomps near me on the bed and I move my laptop aside, my eyes wide with fear as his nostrils flare. His eyes are bloodshot and right now, and I’m reminded of my father during one of his many drunken rages.
I’m terrified.
“Damien what-”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you saw her?” he growls as he smacks his hand against the wall, causing me to flinch.
Megan. He’s talking about my run in with Megan.
Fuck.
“Don’t look all scared now, Lucille. Answer me!” he roars, hitting the wall even harder.
I don’t know this man. I don’t know who he is.
