His eyes flicker with interest. “Is that so? Jason never mentioned a boyfriend.”
“Jason doesn’t know a thing about me. But my boyfriend…well, he knows everything about you, Damien.”
He straightens up and takes the gun off Cece, resting it on the sofa but keeping a tight hold on it. “And just exactly who is your boyfriend?”
I smirk. It takes everything in me to do it, but I have to keep this going. I need to scare him. “He’s someone you should be very fucking afraid of.”
He holds my stare for what feels like forever, and then he lets out a mocking laugh. “You’re so full of shit! You don’t have a fucking boyfriend. And even if you did, Damien Doyle ain’t afraid of no fucker.” He taps the gun to his puffed out chest.
“Well, you should be. You should be fucking terrified, Damien. Ask Evan Foster and Levi Betts. Oh, yeah, that’s right. You can’t, can you? Because they’re dead.”
“So? What the fuck do they have to do with anything?” he snaps.
And I know I’m getting to him.
I take a bold step forward. “Who do you think killed them?”
“You’re talking shit, little girl. Evan killed himself, the fucking coward that he was, and Levi was stabbed by a dealer.”
“Did they ever catch that dealer who did Levi in?” I tip my head to the side in contemplation. “And, you know, come to think of it…Evan slitting his own throat?” I give a shudder, pulling a face. “I mean, it isn’t exactly the usual way someone chooses to kill themselves, is it?”
He can’t hide the shock that ripples over his features, and through his transparent eyes, I can see his mind working quickly.
“Seven years ago, you and your two little besties decided to rape and murder a seventeen-year-old girl in Hyde Park on the night of her prom. Her boyfriend was with her. You beat him, tortured him, and made him watch while you defiled his girlfriend in the worst possible way. Then, you stabbed him over and over until you thought he was dead. Only…he wasn’t dead. He survived. And he’s been coming for you motherfuckers, one by one, and it’s your turn, Damien.”
His face pales, and his voice wavers. “What the fuck do you know about that?”
“Everything. When you’re sleeping with a man, he tends to tell you things—pillow talk, you know. And he told me about every bad thing you did and how badly he’s going to fuck you up, just like he did Evan and Levi.”
“You’re a fucking liar!” he snaps, his face turning red. “That kid was dead! I made sure of it.”
“Did you not check the news after that night? Or were you just too fucking arrogant? Or did you just not care enough about the fact that you stole the lives of two fucking innocent kids? Well, whatever it was, you fucked up big time, Damien. Because he survived. And he grew up with a lot of rage and hatred, every ounce of it directed at you. You created a killer, Damien, and he’s coming for you.”
“You’re fucking lying!” he yells, losing his cool.
I laugh. “God, I can’t wait to prove you wrong. I’m going to really enjoy watching Kas cut you wide open.”
“What did you say?” He steps to the side of the sofa, away from Cece.
Shit. I told him Kas’s name.
Holding my face steady, I say, “What? That he’s going to cut you wide open? Because he will. He’ll gut you like a fish—”
“No, bitch. His fucking name.” He takes a menacing step toward me. “Say his fucking name again.”
Saliva floods my mouth. I swallow it down, lift my chin, and hold my bravado. “Kas.”
That’s when I see it. It’s only a brief flicker. If I had blinked, I would have missed it. But he knows Kas’s name.
I smirk, triumphant. “You’ve already met him, haven’t you? Well, I mean, met him again. ’Cause you already knew him, right? From seven years ago. But he’s changed a lot since then. This is what he does, you know.” I lean forward and lower my voice, like I’m telling him a secret. “He gets close and then”—I draw my index finger across my neck, making a slicing sound in my throat—“next thing you know, you’re drowning in your own blood.”
My words hang in the air between us. He looks afraid, and I feel strong.
Then, his face suddenly changes, and he laughs loudly, clutching his stomach with his hand.
And my stomach sinks.
“I fucking had you there, didn’t I?” he crows. “God, you dumb bitch! Did you really think I would give a fuck about your little boyfriend? Do you know how many bitches I’ve raped? How many people I’ve killed? That little cunt and her pansy-ass boyfriend were two in a big-ass pool of people. Let him come. I want him to. It’ll give me a chance to finish what I didn’t get to finish all those years ago.” His eyes narrow and darken on me. “Because I do hate a loose end, Daisy.”
He walks slowly toward me, and I fight against the urge to run. Balling my hands into fists, I bite my lip hard to stop from trembling.
Reaching me, he stops inches away. I can smell the stench of cigarette smoke and cheap aftershave, and I want to gag.
He presses the gun to my chest, pushing the barrel in between my breasts. My legs start to shake.
“You know, the first time I saw you, when Jason brought you around, I noticed how fucking pretty you were. But you always looked so uptight, like you needed a good fucking. And I know how to fuck real good, Daisy. You want that, huh? Me to give it to you good?”