Epilogue

Damien must be exhausted from the last few days because he falls asleep quickly after we have sex and I don't have the heart to wake him. He deserves a rest before we leave. I run my fingers through his long, dark hair as I stare at his face. He's so handsome sometimes it's hard to look at him. Damien King is perfect for me. I fit into his world, no matter how small it is. I've always belonged here. It doesn't matter to me if we have to get a tent and live in the woods. As long as we're together, everything else will fall in line.

I press a soft kiss to his forehead before breathing him in. He's been through so much it hurts me to think about what that bitch Samantha put him through. Even keeping the abuse out of it, it was not his job to take care of me. It was hers and she made him feel like I wouldn't be taken care of if he didn't do it himself.

He spent fourteen years planning an escape from prison to come back for me. Knowing him, that probably means he hasn't had a decent sleep in well over a decade. Damien has true dedication, something no one else could possess. It's a gift and a curse.

"I love you," I whisper against his hairline, but he doesn't stir at all. I hope his subconscious mind picked up on it though. He doesn't need to consciously remember me saying it.

I carefully move off the palette and grab his shirt from the floor since he ruined mine. I really liked that shirt, too. I slip it over my head before sneaking out of his room. The soft whimpering and scratching echoes from down the hall and I'm tempted to sneak and see what this surprise could be, but I'll wait for Damien. That's not the point of me sneaking out of bed. I have another purpose.

I'm careful as I walk down the stairs, careful not to let it creak too loudly, before heading down the hall. I stop in front of the basement door, pick up the lantern Damien left here, and I throw open the door. Walking down the steps, I'm careful to make sure I don't step on anything that can hurt my feet. Damien would probably lose his shit if I hurt myself. Overprotective ass. I'm not going to die if I get a splinter. Yet, the man will cut my tongue himself and be completely fine with it.

He may be a weirdo, but he's all mine.

I hold up the lantern as my dad screams through the duct tape over his mouth. His eyes are held open with clamps and his head is tied to a piece of wood holding his head in place. I move in front of him and do my best to remove the clamps without hurting him before moving onto the wood around his head and finally the duct tape.

"Aurora, thank god! I'm so glad you're–"

"Shh!" I press my hand over his mouth before whispering. "Damien is asleep and these walls are thin. You need to be quiet."

He slowly nods before looking up to the floor above us. "My phone is in my pocket. He never took it off me. Take it out and call Mrs. Forrester. She'll be faster."

I frown. "She's dead, Dad."

His eyes widen and the color drains from his face. "What?"

"Damien killed her. He killed Mrs. Rolon, too."

His face falls, so many emotions passing through his expression, before he lets out a ragged breath. "Who else?"

"Mom," I add and the anger on his face is intense.

"Goddamn it. I'm so sorry, Aurora. I can't bring them back, but I will make this right. Just cut these ropes and we'll call in backup to take him down." He nods toward the knife sitting on a small wooden table next to him and I pick it up, but when I don't move to let him free, he stares at me with irritation. "Cut the ropes, Aurora. Hurry up."

I don't though.

"He killed the Rothchild's, too," I say, ignoring his request and within a heartbeat, his face shows that he knows I have no intention of releasing him.

"Honey," he starts, but I just stand there.

"You lied to me, Dad. Every single day you hid the truth from me and made me feel like I was losing my mind. You knew exactly where I came from and, when I came to you and asked why all records of my previous life were erased, you still lied. You had Mrs. Rolon erase any connection between Aurora Sullivan and Bellatrix Rothchild."

His head hangs in defeat. "How did you find out?"

"Mom left me a voicemail right before she died confessing everything. She apologized, too. She said she thought she was doing the right thing because you told her it was. You lied again and again and fucking again. You never listen to me or anyone else because you know what's best, right? The great Lieutenant Henry Sullivan. You tried to make me sound and look crazy because I was obsessed with what happened to Damien and what he did. It's not just his story, Dad. It's mine, too. I was here that night. I watched Damien kill three people out of the sixteen that died that night. I ignored my instincts because your lies said I needed to. The moment I saw him, I knew him, but I had to be crazy, right?" There is so much pent up anger and frustration inside me and I can feel it getting close to exploding.

"I'm sorry, but do you have any idea how much emotional damage it could do to someone to know they witnessed something like that? I just wanted you to be okay. That's why Andrea got me in contact with a doctor to fix your memory."

I blanche as I take in what he just said and my grip tightens on the knife.

"You did what?"

Regret and grief covers his face. "You kept running around the house, calling for him. You were in distress. There was nothing else I could think to do. You just kept screaming his name like you thought he was hiding in a closet or something. I did what I had to do to help you. We took you to a child hypnotist and they got rid of your memories of him so you could just focus on being a kid. I know you're mad, but I did what was best for you. If given the choice again, I'd make the same choice because you were happy. You didn't need him to be okay. He was a psychopath, Aurora. He still is. He belongs behind bars. Don't let him twist your mind into thinking he's more than what he is. He's a crazy, serial killer who will kill you if you don't release me and let me put him back where he belongs."

I lift the knife and use all my strength to slam it down into his shoulder. The scream he releases is something I never knew I needed to hear, but this isn't for me. This is for Damien. I came down here knowing what I was going to do, but Lieutenant Sullivan just made it easier. I came down here to kill the one person left on Damien's hit list, the person I tried to protect only an hour ago.

Damien King is dedicated to me. He wants to keep me with him–happy, sated, and safe. I will do the same. I don't care who I have to kill to make sure Damien and I can stay together. No one will rip us apart ever again.

"He's not what you think he is," I whisper close to his face and pain echoes down his cheeks in ripples. "He's not crazy. He's fucking traumatized. You see things too black and white to notice the difference. You ignored the signs of him crying out for help. You and every other cop in this town refused to see that he was suffering. He was being starved," I growl before pulling out the knife and I stab him again, this time in the leg as hard as my arms can swing it. He howls in agony. "He was being abused and trying to shield me from it." I pull out the knife before thrusting it into his stomach, the blood spraying across the shirt covering up my nudity. "She was raping him and you let it happen. You took an oath to protect and serve. Where was that for me and Damien? He was a twelve year old boy caring for a four year old girl. I was the only thing he cared about anymore and you ripped me from his arms. Then, you turned around and fucked with my head so I wouldn't remember him or anything he did for me." I stab him three more times in the stomach, the blood spraying me with each thrust I deliver until he spits it on my face. I don't care. I barely even register it.

"This is for Damien," I whisper in his ear before I stab the blade through his heart.

"Trixie!" I hear him scream from behind me a moment before he comes into view. Damien races down the steps and stops on the third one when he sees me standing there, covered head to toe in blood. His gaze flashes between me and the body still tied to the chair. Lieutenant Henry Sullivan takes one last breath and as I turn to face him, his head lulls to the side, his vacant eyes losing all light.

For the past few days, I've wondered what it was like, what Damien felt when he killed someone like this. I understand now. It gives you power. Power over yourself, over the things you can't control, and power over everyone else. When you kill someone, you hold their life in your hands. My dad knew that. He may not have known what my plan was, but he knew I held the power. Damien was asleep and couldn't stop me from doing anything.

"What did you do?" Damien asks as he finishes his descent down the steps. I grab the handle of the knife and pull it out of my dad's chest before I turn to face Damien.

"Don't be mad," I say before taking a small breath. "You killed a bunch of people to make sure we could leave together. I'm just as culpable now. I killed him for you. I wanted to show you I'm just as dedicated as you are. It's you and me." Then, I hold out the bloody knife for him. He takes it from me, drops it to the floor, before he pulls me into his arms. Damien kisses me hard, not minding the blood all over my face at all. My dad's blood transfers from me to him and it mixes on our flesh, manifesting the truth within our souls. I'm just as stained as he is and vice versa.

He releases my lips for a moment to smirk at me. "My pretty little dead girl has some dirty deeds of her own."

I smile up at him. "You haven't seen anything yet."