Chapter 15

Pierce

She lets me lead her into the living room, where David is groaning around his gag and wiggling against restraints. Her hand is shaky in mine, and it gives me pause. She needs this. It's what I'd convinced myself, anyway. I'd researched her enough to find her relations on Facebook. Enough to find where they lived. Her mom wasn't home, but a neighbor answered their door and said she's single now. She kicked David to the curb only a few days after last Christmas. Inwardly, I wonder if Hazel knows, but that's not what's at the forefront of the list to deal with right now.

Hazel stops in the front of David, taking him in with tears tracking down her face. I keep silent. This is her demon to face. However she wants to deal with him is how we will deal with him, but I hope it's bloody.

David looks between us, his eyes frantically trying to work out why he's here. Like he doesn't remember. I sidestep them both, standing on the edge of the paisley carpet on the old wood floors to take Hazel in. He's our prisoner now; we don't have to rush this. We can take our time.

I decide once she's overwhelmed, I'm pulling her from the room. Moving him to the basement might be the best idea, but I wait for her to get her fill of him. To unravel whatever is going on in that beautiful mind of hers.

"Why is it he looks as if he doesn't remember?" she asks.

He grumbles something over his gag, looking at me with worried eyes. Sweat beads on his forehead as he fights to speak over his gag. It's incessant and annoying.

"For fuck's sake," I groan, storming towards him in two massive steps before ripping the gag out of his mouth, letting it fall around his neck.

"Why don't you look as if you remember me and what you did to me?" Hazel's eyes are filled with white-hot rage.

David stretches his mouth, sighing with relief. And I hate that I'd given it to him. "I know who you are, Hazel. Of course, I know who you are. But I surely don't know the meaning of this."

She seethes, her eyes narrowing on him as she takes a step forward. "You don't know why someone you raped would have so much hate in their heart towards you that they take matters into their own hands? Justice should be served, shouldn't it?"

David rolls his eyes. "I'd never do such a thing, Hazel. Especially not to your mother. And besides, if it's justice you want, go to the police. Don't fuck up your life. Way I hear it, you're doing great."

Now Hazel has an anger rolling off her skin that radiates through the entire house. The walls creak as it echoes against them. A shiver makes its way up my spine, and my cock jolts in my jeans.

"I went to the police. You had mom lie and say she was with you. She alibied you out, David. Don't play fucking stupid!" Her voice has risen to epic proportions, and I'm proud of how she's standing her ground in front of her attacker. It's why I'd tied his ass down. To give her the feeling of safety that she needed to have him near her.

"Oh, that's all bullshit. I didn't do nothin' to you, and you know it. You always had a crush on me. You're just misremembering, is all. All those little dresses you'd wear around me, you were asking for it."

Her eyes widen with rage. She places her hand toward me. "Knife."

"Now, little ember, I don't think…"

She turns on me, pinning me with the damning look she'd had him in and I don't know how he'd withstood it. It's as if her fire is seeping through my body from within her gaze.

"Give me your blade. I know you carry one."

My eyes pinch together, but I bend and pull my blade from its ankle sheath, handing it to her. "Don't cut yourself," I tell her.

And she smirks. "That's your job."

David's face is filled with confusion when I give him back the attention he doesn't deserve. He's watching Hazel's hand with the blade like a fucking hawk.

I'm giddy. Ready to watch her fillet his flesh from his bones, as she should. But something inside me worries about her soul and about how she'll come out the other end of this once she's done what she has to. What she needs to.

"What are ya' gonna do?" David asks her, his tone shaking with fear.

It makes me smirk.

"Well, what I should do is begin with taking off each finger you touched me with. Especially since these fingers helped you drug me. Assisted you as you opened whatever capsule you poured powder from. Or maybe I should just cut your cock off. I mean, you no longer need it after this, anyhow. Do you, David?"

"You don't have to do any of that. I won't touch anyone else. I swear it!"

Hazel's eyes dance with excitement, and I know I was right. She's like me. "Well, you denied what you did to me before. How do I know you're not lying now? You can't even admit it…"

"I did it, okay? I drugged your wine, and your momma's too, so she wouldn't wake up. But I don't think I used enough on you. I ran out, and you kept coming around. I was worried you'd tell. It wasn't like that before…" David trails off when Hazel's blade, my blade, our blade, finds his throat.

He swallows against it, and I cross my arms. I'm trying my hardest to keep my body in check, but my cock is hard as steel as I watch her come into her own. She's taking back every bit of power he took and then some.

"What do you mean, before?" Her words are ground out through gritted teeth, her face is as red with anger as the sky is before a summer storm.

She presses into his throat with the blade.

"Before when I drugged you, you never came around," he admits.

Hazel gasps, finding me with her eyes.

There's something pleading in them, and I step forward and put my hand on the knife. She needs a moment to mull over what he'd just revealed. But she jerks her hand in mine, the blade cutting David deeply across his throat.

Her scream muffles the first gagging noises to come from David as she backs up. My blade skitters down to David's lap, then falls to the floor by his jerking feet.

She'd cut him deeply enough that he's choking on blood.

Her eyes move between David and the blade on the floor, and my interest is piqued enough to remain still. Brushing my thumb over my bottom lip, I watch and wait to see what she does next. Her next move will show me how similar we are. Will she indulge in her revenge?

She moves rapidly, grabbing up the blade from the floor. A scream of distress and pent-up rage leaves her chest. Her eyes are full of fire. The eyes of a woman abused about to get her retribution. With jerky movements, she stabs him over and over, anger turning to dark misery as she loses herself in the butchering of her past. Blood spews from each wound, coating her and washing her clean of his sins. My cock is hard as stone, and I bite my lip. I need to keep my head, because this is going to turn. She's going to need me to reel her in before she realizes what she's done. She is going to panic.

But I wish she could see how beautiful she looks through my eyes. Like the scarlet damsel of death. When her heaving breaths meet my ears, I know she needs to be pulled back.

I move behind her as she holds the hilt of the knife that's sticking out of David's chest. Her body is vibrating violently through my hands on her shoulders.

"Little ember, it's over. He's gone. Come back to me," I say.

Her hands are over her mouth, and shock is setting in. She'd killed someone. My little ember is a killer. She stumbles away from me, shaking with fierce shivers of dread.

"Come here," I tell her. Because each time I step toward her, she moves.

"I can't… I did that," she stammers.

"Come here. Now."

She stops her sputtering, moving toward my open arms like they're an answer to a prayer.

"That wasn't just you," I say when I finally have her enveloped tightly in my arms. Her sobs are loud and reverberate through my chest.

"He did it before," she says repeatedly. "He did it before!"

"I know, shhh," I comfort, kissing the top of her head.

"I'm a killer."

"No," I tell her, grabbing her shoulders and pressing her back away from me some to look into her eyes, "you are a survivor. One who has been told she's a liar at every turn. One who sought justice so that she could keep going. And you are justified in this kill."

"I'm not God," she says absently.

"No. You're not. And neither was I when I killed. But some people don't deserve to draw breath. And the cops don't care, and when they do, their hands are so far tied with red tape that they can't move them."

"I'm going to go to prison," she laments, panic beginning to settle deep into her bones.

I understand it. It happened after my first kill, too.

I shake my head. "No, you won't. You'll go on about your life knowing this monster won't rape another woman. That you saved someone else's life. Someone else's sanity. And that has to be enough for you to carry on."

She looks over at him and nods once. "He would've done it again."

Oh, I was certain he'd have done it again. I nod. "I found him living with a woman with three small girls, Hazel."

Her brows knit together. "He wasn't with my mom?"

I shake my head. "Neighbors said she kicked him out the week of Christmas last year."

Her eyes go wide.

"When's the last time you spoke to your mom?" I ask.

"When she gave him an alibi, the morning after he…" She closes her eyes. "So, all this time that she's been trying to reach me, he's been moved on? I feel awful. I didn't take her calls."

I lift her chin. "Open your eyes. Look at me." I wait until she's done so. "You don't do that. She fucked up, and you had to process. You had to deal with it. And she left you alone by giving this monster an alibi. She told her child she was lying and went home with a fucking monster. That's on her, not you. And she knows it."

Her hand lifts and touches my face gently, and I can't help but to lean into her. "You're an amazing man."

I scoff, tugging away from her. "No. I'm fucked up. I might not be like David here, but I'm as dark as they come."

"But you're different since you returned. Something's off about you," she says, searching my face for answers.

I know it, too. After the kitchen, after what we did, I felt a shift. But I don't know what happened. It was like a merger of something inside me. The molding of the two broken parts of me, and I don't know how to explain it to her.

"I'm fine. I'll be fine. But before today, I'll admit I don't think I've ever said those words," I tell her.

Looking toward where David's body still sits, I sigh. "I've got to clean this mess up. Why don't you go take a shower? I'll be awhile. And don't dwell on this another second, do you hear me? He was a fucking monster."

She nods, turning and heading for what's become her room. And even after she leaves, I know it'll remain her room. Because this chance meeting between us has left an impression.

* * *

Buryingbodies isn't something I'm used to. I know how, of course, but usually crews come in behind agents and handle this kind of shit. I take David to where I think no one will go looking for the rapist little shit and bury him in an unmarked grave inside the centuries old rug that needed to be thrown away anyhow.

Before I cover him with earth; I take one last look at what my girl had done to him and smirk. She's got demons in her, but tonight, she's got one less to worry about.

I worry about how she'll come out the other side of this. Murder can split the soul, and I know that better than anyone. But death can also heal the cracks in the soul. And that's what I hoped for Hazel in bringing him here. Though I thought I was going to be the one to avenge her.

Never had I imagined she would take things into her own hands.

I make quick work of covering him and trudging back to my truck. Snow is falling again and will cover my buried rapist before morning. But this property is owned by me, so no one will find him, anyhow.

When I get back to the house, the only light that's on is in the attic. I look at it with my brow cocked up. Making it inside, I trek upstairs, finding my foldable staircase down, and no noise coming from within my room.

Slowly, I make my way up the steps, one hand on my gun if it's needed.

I should've checked Hazel first because if someone's in the house, I need to know she's okay. I don't imagine she'd be up here without me. The space seemed to put her on edge.

When I get to the top of the stairs and look around, I find Hazel beneath my covers. Her red hair is splayed across the pillow like a wildfire, and soft snores are coming from her chest.

Something inside me calms, and I drop my hand from my gun. The darkest part of me wants to rouse her and fuck her until she begs me to stop, blood dripping from her flesh. But the other part of me wants to hold her in my arms. To comfort her as she grapples with the reality of what had just happened.

She'd come here for solace, and all she'd found was a stalker. Now she'll be leaving with blood on her hands.

What a fucking Christmas.