Chapter 27

Noah

Two months later

I watch as Evelyn stands in front of me, scoops up a good amount of hair wax from the plastic container and begins to rub her fingers together, heating the sticky mass, and the fruity, melony scent fills our bedroom, drowning out the lavender air freshener. She then begins to comb her fingers through the freshly trimmed strands of my hair, making sure to avoid my new prosthetic ear. I close my eye and enjoy the soothing motion of her styling my hair back the way she personally likes it best.

After fixing some of the more stubborn strands along my newly clipped fade, she takes a step back. "All done," she says, and I open my eye to find her standing in front of me with a bright smile on her face, wiping her hands clean on a wet wipe. My gaze roams over her figure and my heart skips a beat at how beautiful she looks tonight, all dressed up in a beautiful white silky slip dress. The thin straps hanging off her shoulders, the smooth fabric draping over her chest, clinging to her hips. Her hair falls over her shoulders in wavy curls and she has a full face of makeup. Meanwhile, I'm dressed in one of my best suits.

"Will you finally tell me why we are all dressed up? It's almost midnight."

"Which means it's almost your birthday. It's a surprise," she says, stepping between my legs, reaching for my tie and fastening the knot. "And I'm certainly not going to ruin it." She chuckles and leans down to plant a soft kiss on my lips. "Now come." She takes my hand and I push myself to my feet, trailing after her as she leads me down the stairs and out our back door.

I expected to find a surprise date downstairs after she had banished me to my office and our bedroom for a good part of the evening. A nice cooked dinner, a glass of wine, some classical music to dance to, but nothing of the sort is waiting for me. Instead, she makes us grab our coats and leads me down the stairs of our porch and down a dirt path that leads into the woods. "What the hell are we doing, Dove?"

"You'll see." She chuckles and squeezes my hand as she pulls me along.

"We're not playing hunt, are we?"

"No, although we should probably do that soon." She flashes me a little mischievous smile. This naughty Little Dove. "For now, just follow me."

After about thirty minutes of dragging me through the woods, a string of warm lights in the distance catches my attention and she begins to pull harder. "Hurry, we're almost there." The moment we step through the thicket and into a secluded opening in the forest, my eyebrows raise at the scene revealing itself in front of me. A naked man with a familiar face, tied at his hands and feet, hangs in the air between two tall trees. He is gagged, with barbed wire wrapped around his neck and a red bow on his head.

"Happy birthday!" Kyle's voice booms from beside me, hidden in my blind spot. My head jerks in his direction where I find him and Evelyn standing next to each other with big smiles on their faces and open arms pointing at the man hanging in the air.

"What's going on here?" I furrow my eyebrows.

Evelyn steps in front of me, wraps her arms around my stomach, rests her chin on my chest and looks up at me. "You didn't get your last kill, and Kyle and I thought we could make it up to you like this." My head tilts to look at her, then jumps to Kyle .

"Is that—"

"Our last client, Mr. Bloom, yes."

"What?"

"We found out he joined the Lancaster group and was tasked with luring you back. He is the reason I almost lost you. He almost tore us apart. And anyone who tries that must die," Evelyn says and my head snaps back to her. This is a…new revelation?

"What made you change your mind about killing?" I ask.

"I haven't changed my mind." She sighs. "I don't want either of us to go back to this job. But for you, I'm willing to cross any line. You said it before you killed Mr. Williams, anyone who tries to hurt me, let alone thinks about it must die, and the same goes for you. No one is allowed to hurt you. No one is allowed to hurt what's mine."

My heart leaps in my chest and I wrap my arms around Evelyn's middle, lean down and press my lips to her plump red ones. A muffled whimper escapes her throat and her arms fly around my shoulders, responding eagerly to the kiss.

It isn't until the rumble of someone clearing their throat next to us that I break away from her and we both turn to face Kyle, who is standing awkwardly next to us. "Sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds, but," he says, nodding in the man's direction, "Noah has other things to do besides you, Evelyn." He flashes us a teasing grin.

"Shut up." I glare at him but let go of Evelyn and approach the man hanging from the trees. Evelyn follows me, pointing to the plastic patio table where my small black hard case sits, with all my tools perfectly arranged.

"All your favorite toys, cleaned and sharpened for the occasion."

"Thank you, my love." I walk up to the table, stop in front of it and look at all my trusted friends. A fluttering sensation, which I like to compare to a stomach bug, spreads through my gut. I slip on my leather gloves before picking up one of my favorite butterfly knives and flip it open before running my clothed finger over the smooth steel.

Then I turn to our client and approach him, dangling in the air. He is conscious but dazed, heavy stains of tears on his face, snot hanging from his nose. I glance back at Evelyn, my beautiful Little Dove, standing a few feet away in her white dress, covered by a white fluffy fleece coat all dolled up and beautiful, watching over me with so much love and admiration like my guardian angel.

I take a deep breath and look back at the man staring down at me with glassy eyes.

He betrayed me.

He betrayed us .

My pulse quickens with every breath I take as I look at the man. The anger in my chest boils to a heat I last felt when I killed Mr. Williams. When I slaughtered him for threatening my Little Dove. My chest heaves and my breaths come in shaky gasps until I snap. Reaching up, I grab a handful of hair and hold the man's head in place, raising the knife with my other hand, and just as the one who tortured me did, I ram the knife into the man's eye, drawing the first reaction from him, a muffled scream through the gag forced down his throat.

Evelyn lets out a high-pitched whine behind me while Kyle barks out into laughter. But I ignore them both, shutting out their presence as I give in to the primal murderous instincts I've been suppressing for the past year. I twist and turn the knife, matching the muscle memory of my torture. The nerves in my face around my closed eye socket spasm, remembering how the knife drilled into my eye. Then I rip the knife out of his eye socket and watch the blood spill down his face.

The next time I drive the knife into the man, a twisted satisfaction washes over me as I savor every cry of pain, every desperate gasp for air as the man thrashes against his restraints, sending a primal thrill through my veins. With every twist of my knife that disfigures the man in front of me, I feel myself slipping further to the edge, dancing on the ledge, swaying back and forth between the light and the darkness that lurks in the depths of me. It feels good. Better than good—it feels liberating. For the first time in what feels like forever, I'm not holding anything back. I'm not holding in my desires or biting my tongue. I'm letting it all out and the experience is intoxicating.

With a final swing of the knife, I do what I do to each and every victim and cut off his genitals, dropping them to the floor as a pool of blood gushes from between his legs.

Gasping for air, I take long strides back to admire my work. The man hangs in the air, gurgling for air as his body fights for his life, covered in his own blood, both his eyes stabbed out, raging wounds marking his chest and the emptiness between his legs. My inner child screams with delight at the sight unfolding in front of me.

A whine behind me grabs my attention and I jerk around to find my Dove looking up at me, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. She looks delicate, almost fragile, like the perfect prey. She knows what she does to me, how the sight of her like this brings out something wild and untamed in me. The way the dress accentuates her softness, hugging every curve. The way her beautiful brown hair falls in waves around her shoulders. It's as if she's taunting me, daring me to give in to my primal urges .

But no, not yet. I can't let her stand there untouched by this moment, when this man is responsible not only for my wounds, but for breaking her heart. She has to show it— the side she hides behind her angelic appearance, the darkness that matches mine.

I reach for the pistol tucked into the holster at my waistband, making sure the safety is on. "Catch," I call to her, throwing it in her direction. She takes a quick step forward and catches it. Confusion is written all over her face in the form of a deep frown as she looks at it.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Shoot him."

"What?"

"Finish it," I say, my voice low and rough, "show me that you're not just my pure Dove, an angel walking this earth."

Her eyes drift back to the pistol in her hand. My gaze stays on her hands as she unlocks the safety and raises her arms, aiming at the man. "That's my good girl," I growl, rolling the R. "Remember the image of me when you found me, the blood, the broken body." Even from afar, I can see the veil of tears settling over her eyes as I drag the memories back to the surface. Me, tied up, barely hanging on. "Remember how I danced on the brink of death, ready to fall if you hadn't come in time to catch me."

"Noah..." My name rolls off her lips in a whisper, quivering with a flood of emotions— anger, fear, love.

I know I'm being cruel, but I can't help it—I need this. "Do it," I urge, my voice a growl, taunting her. "Kill him, for me, for us."

It's the one last push she needs, and she finally snaps, her mask slips, and she pulls the trigger, again and again. The first bullet hits his thigh, the next his chest, then his arm, his neck, until the last one goes straight through his skull. Each thunderous explosion makes my heart leap in my chest as I take in the beautiful sight of her releasing all of her emotions with each shot.

She doesn't stop until the magazine is completely empty. Then she turns and aims the gun at me, her teary eyes meeting mine once more, holding a challenge, a silent invitation. My tongue darts out of my mouth, moistening my dry lips. I take the invitation and toss the knife aside, rip off my gloves, shrug off my bloody coat, and stalk toward her with long, heavy strides. She takes a couple of steps back, but she can't escape me. She will never escape me. My long fingers wrap around her throat and squeeze as I force her back until she is pinned against a large tree .

Leaning down, I press my lips to hers in a ravenous kiss. She responds immediately, her arms flying around my shoulders, pulling herself up higher. I let go of her throat, my hands finding her thighs and lifting her off the ground, pressing her against the tree as I grind my growing erection into her core, drawing high, muffled moans from her.