Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

PETER

A fter the sun had set, Ainsley went inside to clean up before dinner. The concrete was dry, though not fully set. In the morning, I'd build the stairs, and it would be done. Before I joined her inside, I walked into the garage, putting the tools away.

I couldn't stop smiling as I put them back in their places. I never thought I'd see the day when my wife would let me have my way with her on the front lawn, but I was a lucky man. I couldn't believe I'd almost thrown that all away.

I meant what I'd said. Every word. Ainsley had saved me. She'd told me her whole truth—bared her soul to me. Her deepest darkest secrets. We knew everything about each other.

Well, almost everything. But there were some things she could never know. Some things that were unforgivable. Too terrible to say out loud.

I laid the half-empty bag of unused concrete in the corner, checked behind me to be sure the coast was clear, and bent down. I shoved the shelf down a half inch, running my fingers along the brick wall until I found the right one.

I pushed in on the first loose brick, then stood and pressed one three squares up. I followed the pattern carefully and, when I pressed the last brick, the wall popped open just a hair. I stuck my fingers in the gap, opening the hidden door, and stepping inside the dark room. I pulled it closed behind me before flipping on the light.

The room was practically a lair, something I'd meticulously designed when I'd created the blueprint for the house. Totally sound and weatherproofed, and thin enough that it fit easily along the side of the house without anyone—Ainsley included—ever suspecting it was there.

I walked across the damp concrete, drying from the vigorous clean it'd had the night before. I made my way toward the freezer, noticing a smear of blood on the edge of the lid that I'd missed.

I grabbed the spray bottle of bleach from the metal table next to the freezer and sprayed it down, using a paper towel to clean it thoroughly. Not that anyone would ever see it, but I liked to have a clean space. It was important to me. I opened the freezer, pulling out the pearl bracelet that sat at the bottom, waiting for me.

I ran the pearls between my fingers as I walked to the far corner of the room. It was dimly lit, practically unnoticeable, but it held my most prized possession. I pulled out the built-in drawer from the wall, sized perfectly to fit the black duffel bag I'd gotten seventeen years ago. It had been six months since I'd seen it last, and my skin was practically itching to touch the nylon again.

Only once, after the police told us what they'd found in Stefan De Luca's truck, had I checked to make sure mine was still there. And it was. I had no idea how that cop got his hands on an identical bag or rope, but my bag was still safely in its place.

Perhaps he was a copycat.

He'd have all the case information from my crimes, after all. Never enough to catch me, of course. I'd always been too careful. I was an overthinker. I weighed every option, played out variations of each scenario before I acted. I'd never left DNA behind, never chosen similar women, didn't kill every victim, and never followed a pattern or timeline. I let it happen when the mood struck, but I was prepared for anything.

The only person who'd ever known who I truly was happened to be Seth. And I'd bought his silence the way he'd asked for it, by bending him over the edge of his bed. If Glennon hadn't caught us that day, I was sure it would've had to continue. Not that I minded, I guessed. Seth was a good fuck. But I much preferred women.

Then.

I much preferred women then .

I only preferred my wife now.

I twisted the pearl bracelet around my fingers. I hadn't taken Illiana De Luca's underwear because I hadn't raped her. I hated her too much for that. I hated that she got to come into my secret space.

Throughout the years, I'd only brought the most special women down here—the ones I wanted to have a bit of extra fun with. There were fifteen in total that had died in this room. Fifteen beautiful bodies I'd buried in our woods. If Ainsley would've let me, Stefan would've joined them. But she'd fought it. She thought it was too risky, and I could never tell her why it wasn't.

It was only fitting that now, Illiana was buried with Stefan, concrete setting mere feet above their heads at that very moment. The only thing I wanted to do was end her life, and I had. But still, I wanted a token. Illiana's bracelet was the perfect way to remember her. Touching it now, I remembered slipping it off her wrist as I tossed her body into the freezer, ending our problems once and for all. I'd waited until Ainsley had gone to bed that night, then moved her body from my trunk to the freezer without my wife ever suspecting a thing.

She believed me when I'd said I went out for a drive to clear my head. And, I knew if the police were to ever ask, Mallory and Gina could account for my time half of the night. Truth was, I'd gone to see Mallory because I'd had an urge that night. I needed clarity, and I had the clearest mind when I was ending a life. If Gina hadn't been there, it might've been Mallory's underwear I was putting in my special bag. Oh, what fun that would've been.

Instead, I'd gone after Illiana, which worked out better in the end anyway. Gina talked sense into me. She told me I needed to take matters into my own hands, and that was what I'd done. I'd solved our worries, made sure Illiana wasn't a problem, and satisfied my urges all in one night. Thanks to me, Stefan would never hurt my wife. Thanks to me, Illiana would never bother us again. Thanks to my wife, this would be the last item I'd ever put into the bag.

I was done.

A changed man.

Maybe. Probably.

I reached for the zipper, unzipping the bag in a hurry, ready to tuck it back away before Ainsley came out to see what was taking so long. As I pulled it open, I froze.

No.

No.

No. No. No. No.

NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNO.

My stomach twisted into a knot. The bag was nearly empty. No underwear. No rope. Only a single, white envelope with tape and her signature over the seal.

She'd set the cop up.

She'd known all along.

I pulled the envelope out of the bag with shaking hands and tore it open, letting the note inside fall out. As I read it, I felt the vomit rising in my throat.

Sorry, honey.

Rules are rules.

No more secrets.