Miranda glanced over at Jason. “Is it some inherent cop thing that makes him want to visit a crime screen?”
“I think it’s more of seeing everything with his own eyes kind of thing.” I took another drink as they stared at me, and the look on Miranda’s face said there was more. And there was. These two people were my closest friends. I could share my suspicions with them. “Do you guys . . . think Mayor Hughes really did those things?”
Miranda’s dark brows knitted together. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “He killed himself and left a letter saying he did those things.”
“Tyron said it looked like a suicide, but he hadn’t been over there yet. I don’t even know if the agents had been there at that point.” Stepping back, I leaned against the counter. “It just . . . it doesn’t make sense.”
“Crazy typically doesn’t make sense,” Miranda replied. “And serial killers are a special brand of crazy.”
“Actually, serial killers are usually the opposite of crazy,” Jason said, shrugging one shoulder. “They’re usually very smart.”
“Killing people for pleasure is the height of insanity,” she replied. “That’s my opinion and I’m sticking to it.”
I looked at Jason. “So you don’t think the mayor was a serial killer?”
His gaze slid to mine. “I don’t know what to think, but he admitted to everything, right? The vandalism. Cutting off Angela’s finger and sending it to you? We may never know why he did it.”
A fine shiver curled down my spine. Angela’s finger? My heart dropped. “What did you say?”
His gaze came to mine. “What?”
Ice dripped across the base of my neck. “You said he . . . he cut off Angela’s finger and sent it to me. No one has confirmed that it was her finger. I didn’t even tell you that was in the suicide note.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“No,” I whispered. I knew I didn’t tell him that. We just had this conversation. “I . . . I didn’t.”
Miranda frowned as she looked up at Jason. “She didn’t tell me that.”
“Well, it doesn’t take a huge leap of logic to assume that’s what he did,” Jason explained. “The finger was missing from Angela and . . .” He trailed off, straightening.
My lips slowly parted. It was safe to assume that if anyone was copying the Groom, they’d cut off the ring finger. “The police had never confirmed that Angela was missing a finger or that it was sent to me.”
“Shit,” Jason muttered.
A cold, harsh realization slammed into my gut as I pushed away from the counter. Air lodged in my throat. Panic burst through me. “Miranda—”
Jason whipped around so fast, I almost couldn’t believe it was possible. His fist connected with her temple, the fleshy thud knocking the air out of my lungs. She didn’t even have a chance to cry out or blink.
Miranda slid out of the chair, crumpling onto the floor. Once down, she didn’t move. Shouting, I started toward her, but drew up short when Jason stepped in front of her.
“I wanted a little more time.” Jason reached up and removed his glasses, carefully folding and slipping them into the front pocket of his shirt. “But this was bound to happen.”
Chapter 28
Oh my God.
My heart beat frantically in my chest as my mind raced to catch up with reality.
It was Jason.
Oh my God, it was him.
Jason spared a brief glance at Miranda. “I really didn’t want to hurt her. I like her. Did she tell you about us? I was hoping that when this was over, she and I would take it to the next level.” His gaze slid to me. “You, on the other hand, I fucking hate.”
“If . . . if you like Miranda, then please, let me help—”
He shot forward so quickly I didn’t have a chance to move. He grabbed my hair with one hand, and then I doubled over, crying out as his fist caught me in the stomach. Air punched out of my lungs and pain radiated down my spine as he yanked my head back. My arms pinwheeled until I reached back and gripped his arm.
Jason jerked me back up and against him until our faces were inches apart. “Oh, you fucking bitch. You’re going to pay attention to me and not her. I’ve waited too long for this for you to be distracted. Would’ve preferred some real good alone time but I got to make do.”
I stared at him with wide eyes, seeing a face that I trusted but not recognizing the mask of hatred and fury.
“Do you understand me?”
When I didn’t answer, pain exploded across my jaw. Starbursts blinded me as Jason let go of my hair, and I fell forward, my knees smacking off the floor. I caught myself with one hand.
“On your knees.” He laughed, and that sound sent chills down my spine. “How familiar.”
Slowly, I lifted a trembling hand to my cheek as I worked my jaw. A fiery ache shot across the side of my face but it didn’t feel broken.
“You don’t even get it, do you?” He circled me. “But damn, Sasha, you were getting so close to figuring it out.”
I lifted my head as my thoughts swirled to make sense of what was happening.
“I overheard you saying it yourself the other night. What if there . . . was always two of them.” He stopped directly in front of me. His smile was cruel and cold. “What if there wasn’t just one Groom the whole entire time?”
“Oh God,” I whispered, horror locking me into place.
“What if there were two who worked together? One who was smart enough to make sure there was no evidence of his presence left behind. One who spent the last ten years being smart. You know, not-killing-where-you-eat kind of thing.”
Head thumping, I leaned away from him. “You . . .”
Jason cocked his head to the side and widened his eyes. “Yeah. Me.” Slowly he knelt down in front of me, and I jerked back against the fridge door, putting space between us. The sadistic smile fixed on his face. “You and I have spent some special time together before. Kind of disappointed that you never realized it.”
My stomach soured and my head spun as I scooted to the left.
His gaze followed me. “Just think,” he murmured. “You’ve lived all these years thinking you helped put the Groom in his grave. That you got away.” His hand snapped and his open palm caught my mouth. I cried out as I fell to the side. “But this whole time, you only put one of us in the ground. I’ve been having fun this whole entire time. I just made sure there was no pattern. I strayed far from home and picked women that no one would miss. Remember what I said about serial killers?”
I pulled myself away, my gaze flickering wildly around the room. Panic threatened to dig in deep, but I couldn’t let it. I needed to get help. I needed to get a weapon. My phone was on the counter, but that was of no use at this point.
Jason’s fist closed around my hair. “Do you remember?”
Blood trickled down the corner of my mouth as I focused on getting my tongue to work. “Th-They’re smart,” I forced out, and my words sounded mushy to me.
“That’s my good girl.”
My stomach turned. “I am not your girl.”
“Yeah, you’re just a dumb bitch, and there’s nothing more I hate in life than a bunch of dumb bitches.” He sighed as he rose, pulling me up with him. I staggered to my feet. “You should ask my wife. Then again, she’s dead, so that’s not going to happen.”
“My God,” I whispered.
“Cameron was different,” he said, dragging me toward the kitchen island. “At first. I think I might’ve actually loved her. Then one day she decided she wanted kids. I didn’t. We fought. Obviously, I didn’t take that well. She never really kept in contact with her family. Lucky me. No one even gives a damn she’s gone.”
I closed my eyes. That wasn’t true. Someone gave a damn.
“Then you came back home. Couldn’t believe it when Miranda told me you were coming back. Fucking pissed me off. You were here, prancing around, and I just couldn’t deal with that. Fuck no. You should’ve stayed away.”
&nbs
p; My hands flew out as he slammed my head forward. A crack of blinding pain stunned me as my forehead hit the edge of the counter. My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor.
Jason stepped back. “Just think. Let it sink in. Every single time you hugged me. Every single time you called me and asked for a favor. You opened your doors to me. Left me alone in here. I’ve had free rein of the place.” He laughed. “I helped your mother do dishes.”
Moaning, I twisted onto my side, pressing against the base of the island. I was going to be sick. God, I was going to be sick.
“This whole entire time I was punishing you, making you regret coming home. Dragging it out so you can feel just the tiniest measure of pain that I’ve felt.”
Head spinning, I looked to the side and blinked rapidly. He was going to kill me if I didn’t get up. He was going to kill Miranda. Wet warmth ran down the side of my face. This wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t going to be his victim again. I was going to get out of here. Miranda would be okay. I would hug my mom again. I would get to tell Cole that I loved him.
“You don’t even know why,” he said, as my cellphone started ringing.
My lips felt weird. “I . . . I don’t care.”
“Oh,” Jason laughed. “You do. You want to know why. Everyone always wants to know why.”
I reached up, gripping the edge of the counter. Get up. Get up.
He was suddenly in my face. “You got my father killed.”
I froze as I stared at him. I didn’t want to believe what I heard. His father?
“Vernon was my father,” he repeated. “My real father.”
It clicked into place slowly, painfully. Jason had come here all those years ago to find his real father. He’d told us that he’d never found him, and we never had a reason to not believe him. “The . . . the fire that killed your mom and stepfather . . .”
“That was me.” He winked, and my phone started ringing once more. “It’s amazing how people, even law enforcement, will see what they want to see. I mean, no one wants to believe an all-A student who watches Star Trek and marathons of Firefly is capable of murdering his parents.”
Jason was a monster.
“I found my father pretty quickly and you know what I found?” he said, curling his hand around the back of my neck. “I really take after my dad. Must be a genetic thing.” Lifting his gaze to the ceiling, he shrugged a shoulder. “Except he was a lot calmer than me. More patient. You did get that right. My father wanted to spend the rest of his life with his brides,” he said, lips twisted into a cruel semblance of a smile. “I just wanted to see what their insides looked like.”
“Jesus,” I muttered.
“He doesn’t have a thing to do with this.” Jason rose and dragged me with him. “Oh, and thank you for telling me that I had yet another relative here. Good ole Mayor Mark Hughes.”
A new horror filled me.
“He had no idea we were related, that Vernon had a son. I doubt he would’ve welcomed me into the fold if he did,” he said, laughing under his breath. “I paid him a little visit, made sure he took the fall for everything. Come to find out he really did vandalize your car and did that really weird shit with the deer and your mother’s truck.” Jason chuckled again as he pulled me back from the counter. “What a dumbass. He about pissed himself when he realized who I was, when I made him hold the gun to his own head. Man, putting that kind of fear into someone is a beautiful thing.”
I swallowed. “They’ll figure . . . it out. That it wasn’t a suicide.”
He snorted. “No. They won’t. Not these dumbasses. But now I’m going to have to get real creative about this mess.” He paused. “And you know who is a really great suspect? One Cole Landis.”
“You—”
Jason grunted as he shoved me forward. My upper body slid across the island. Pots and pans scattered across the island, clanging off the floor. A container of uncooked rice Mom had left out flew across the room. My cellphone went flying, and then I was falling. I twisted at the last second, hitting the floor. My hip smashed into a pot, and sharp pain flashed down my leg. I reached out behind me, my hands smacking along the floor as my phone starting ringing once more.
In under a heartbeat, he was on me, one hand on the center of my chest as he reached up into a drawer. The knives—holy shit, he was going for the knives. “This is going to be messy. Hard to clean up after. Maybe pinning this shit on Cole isn’t going to work. Probably going to have to leave town.”
I bucked my hips as I slid my hand along the floor. My fingers brushed the cool handle—the skillet, the iron skillet. So close.
“When I’m done with you, I’m gonna dump your body right where it always belonged,” he said, pulling a knife out of the drawer. Light glinted off the blade. “I think that would make Dad happy.”
“Your father was a twisted fuck,” I spat, swinging the cast-iron skillet with all my strength. “And so are you.”
The crack was like a shot of thunder, echoing throughout the kitchen, and shot down my arm. Jason yelped as his grip loosened. I wrenched free, flipping over and scuttling on my knees. Pushing up, I whipped around, facing him.
Wild, wide eyes fixed on mine. Eyes I’d once trusted, was familiar with. Eyes I even loved in a little way. Eyes now full of hatred and fury. Slowly, like water easing between rocks, the emotion faded from them.
Jason shifted to the side, his left leg going out on him first. He went down to his side, arms outstretched toward me, still coming at me, still wanting to hurt, but I was out of reach.
He was never going to get to me again.
Jason shifted forward, hitting the floor face-first. His body twitched once, twice, and then stilled.
Breathing heavy, I stepped back as I lowered my aching arm. A faint stream of blood seeped across the floor, sinking into the crevices between the tiles.
It was him.
It always had been him.
My stomach churned as bile rose so swiftly I doubled over, vomiting. I’d trusted him. He’d helped me afterward, telling me I was safe, after he’d done horrible, horrible things to me. My entire body burned. I’d trusted him with my mother and my friends. I’d trusted him when he—
Straightening, I clenched the pan. Pull it together, Sasha, pull it together. I limped back, my gaze darting to where Miranda lay motionless. I needed to check on her, but I didn’t want to take my eyes off Jason.
I opened my mouth to call her name, but only a hoarse croak came out. I swallowed the burn and tried again. “Miranda?”
When I glanced over at her, she hadn’t moved. What if she—no. I cut those thoughts off. She wasn’t dead. There was no way. I couldn’t let myself believe that. I needed to focus on getting help.
Face throbbing, I scanned the disaster that was the kitchen for my cellphone. Pots were everywhere. Shards of ceramic. Spilled rice. Limping toward the counter, I held on to the cast-iron skillet. I eased around the island, getting closer to Miranda as I kept my eyes on Jason.
Kneeling, I placed a hand on her chest. “Miranda?” After a moment, I felt her chest rise. “Miranda, honey, I need you to get up.”
A soft moan drew my attention. Jason wasn’t moving. I took a risk and looked at Miranda. Her eyelids fluttered.
Hope sparked. “Miranda—”
A roar blasted through the room, and my head jerked up. Jason was on his feet, arm and knife raised in the air. He raced toward me. My heart felt like it stopped in my chest as I lifted the skillet, fully preparing to bash his skull into the rest of the wall. I swung, but Jason sidestepped at the last second, and I hit air.
I cried out as pain shot up my arm and into my shoulder. The skillet slipped from my fingers, clanging off the floor. Before I could react, another burst of pain exploded alongside my head. My legs gave out once more and I hit the floor. For a horrifying moment, I thought he’d stabbed me in the head, but it had been his fist.
Jason grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked me onto my feet. “You think we?
??re done? That I’m going to go down that easy? Oh, fuck no.” He circled an arm around my neck and started walking. “I’m not going to die here and neither are you.”
Dazed, I stumbled over my own feet as he half dragged, half carried me toward the back door. Instinct screamed at me to fight back, but I was having a hard time getting the message from my brain to my limbs.
Shoving open the back door, he veered to the left, toward the