Chapter 170

HENRY

No, he doesn't.

I'm starting to wonder if he ever did. Or if he ever intended to. Or if this was just some ploy to turn me into a murderer… like him.

After that night when I killed that poor woman in her home, I've killed two more people. Hate me all you want. Be horrified all you want. Be disgusted all you want. I don't even care at this point.

I'm desperate here.

Shane told me that I did well, but the woman died too early, so he told me to try again. Delighted and hopeful, I killed again. My second unfortunate victim was an obese, lonely man whom I also killed in his home. I'll spare you the grotesque details 'cause I'm sure you don't wanna hear it.

I tried to make his death a little longer than the first one. I beat him up before stabbing him multiple times, modelling Shane's method.

But Shane wasn't satisfied.

So, we decided to try for a third time. This one was a lonely, depressed thirty-five year-old woman who had just gotten through a rough divorce. Hers was the most gruesome and longest. I was even driven to tears.

I know what I'm becoming. I know what I'm turning to. But like I said, I'm desperate here.

Shane was satisfied with this woman's death and looked delightfully thrilled.

After the woman died, he pulled me flushed against him and kissed me, then proceeded to undress me in the dead woman's house and fucked me right there in the murder scene like some savaged wild animal.

It made me think…

“Yes. This is it. He loves me now. For real. And he's gonna call off the wedding and break up his engagement with Alicia, and we're gonna be together forever.”

Ha.

What a joke.

Such wishful thinking.

I thought wrong. I always think wrong when it comes to Shane. He's a master manipulator. A masterpiece of deception. And that's all he'll ever be.

Could you believe that Shane didn't call off the wedding and break up with Alicia after that? Yes, I'm sure you can.

I can even imagine you scrunching up your nose in an expression of sheer disgust and disdain and probably thinking... “You deserve it, you idiot!”

Every time I try to bring it up, he deflects or plays the mute card. I've been beyond devastated ever since, and I'm on the verge of losing my mind.

And what makes matters worse is that the wedding is taking place tomorrow morning. You have absolutely no idea how this past week has been for me.

I can't even think straight. There's this deep aching in my heart. I have no idea what to do with my life anymore if Shane leaves me.

Watching TV is a way I always used to escape my harsh reality, but I've lost interest in everything that used to interest me. I'd normally find myself sitting down rigidly, staring into thin air, lost in thought.

Was my love for Shane always doomed?

The ringing from the door, followed by the automated “Welcome, Mr Blackwood,” jolted me out of my thoughts.

I felt a flicker of hope surge through my chest.

He came.

Desperate to convince him not to go ahead with the wedding tomorrow, I had called Shane on the phone and told him to come over to the penthouse and highlighted how important it was for him to come.

I didn't expect him to actually come. But the fact that he rushed over here in under half an hour meant something.

I was curled up on the couch, lost in thought, when he arrived. I sprang to my feet immediately.

He walked into the living room, stopping just by the entrance.

“What's the matter?” He asked in a cold tone, then glanced down at his wristwatch. “What's so important that you made me drive over a thousand miles at this time of night?”

“Can you please come closer?” I asked in a quiet voice.

He glanced down at his watch again, then up. “Get on with it, Jones. I don't have all the time in the world.”

“Please, don't marry her.” I whispered.

He stared at me in disbelief for a few seconds, then his jaw clenched, eyes hardening instantly, throat working, “Is that what's so important?”

“Ye…”

I wasn't even finished. He spun around on his heels and made to leave.

I ran past him, blocking his path. “Please, Shane. Don't marry her. I beg you.”

“Get out of the way.” He growled.

“Please.” I pleaded, voice spilling with intense desperation. “Please, don't marry her. You promised me. You said that you would love me if I killed for you. I did. I killed for you. Three times. Please, Shane. Please. Don't marry her.”

Shane stared down at me, face impassive. “I said, get out of the way, Jones.”

Tears quickly blurred my vision. I reached out and wiped them, but the stubborn liquids kept trickling down on their own.

“Please,” I begged, voice weak and trembling. “Please. I'm willing to do anything. Anything for you. Please, just don't marry her. I beg of you.”

Fury flickered across his eyes. His jaw clenched so tight you could see the whole structure of his bones. “I won't warn you again. Get. Out. Of. The. Way.”

I went down on my knees and clasped my palms. Tears spilled faster now, like a fountain.

“Please, Shane.” I begged, “Ple…”

A deep growl rumbled from Shane's chest, and he moved in one swift motion. The toe part of his shoe connected to the side of my face. I was thrown hard against the floor from the impact. Pain bloomed hot across my skin.

He tried to leave, but I crawled forward before he could move, wrapping my arms around his ankle, holding him tight against my chest, pleading and crying in desperation.

Shane stared down at me and kicked hard into my stomach with the free leg. A sharp groan tore from my lips, but I still held on tight, whimpering and begging on the floor like the pathetic thing I was.

Shane kicked hard again. This time to my face. A fresh round of pain exploded right through me. My skin cut open, and blood trickled down onto the hardwood floor. Then he stomped down hard on my fingers, crushing them mercilessly.

I screamed. Hard. A high, shrill, broken sound that exploded through the walls of the penthouse.

And then I let go.

I curled up on the side and started to sob silently.

Shane gleefully stared down at me and smirked. “You’re making me get bored of you, Jones. If you still want me to keep you as my cum rag, then you'd best behave. This attitude of yours genuinely makes me sick.”

With that, he made his way out of the penthouse.

I lay there on the floor and sobbed silently for what felt like ages. My face, stomach and fingers burned with pain, but they were nothing compared to the deep, hollow ache in my heart.

Why has love always been so hard for me?

Why?

I keep trying and trying, only to end up heartbroken.

Tony, Collin and now Shane.

Shane's own hurt the most.

I love him more than anything in the world.

I love him more than I love myself.

I am nothing without him.

How am I supposed to live life without him in it? How? How? How?!

I had no idea how long I cried for. I thought I would cry and drift off to sleep right there on the floor.

But I didn't.

Suddenly, I stopped crying.

Not because there were no tears left to shed, but because I was tired of crying.

And like a switch flipped, all the emotions I was feeling just two seconds ago… misery, dejection, pain and despair… just faded away in an instant, replaced by new ones.

Anger, determination and a burning need for vengeance. They fueled, sharpened and consumed me whole right there as I lay on the floor.

Shane Blackwood, if you think you're gonna ruin me and turn me into an utter mess, then you've got another thing coming.

I'm gonna find out that one thing you care about. I'm sure you do have one. Everyone does. And once I find it out, I'm gonna strip it away from you before you even know what hits you.

And after that is done…

I'm gonna kill you.

Since earning your love is harder, killing you seems like a much easier option.