Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LYLA

A nne Hatt is Neo's exact type. Her blonde hair and light eyes likely remind him of his mother. Her entire body shakes with fear, and tears roll down her cheeks. However, the way she's only looking at Carl gives the distinct impression that Ada isn't someone she's going to miss.

"What have you done?" she breathes, approaching Carl and falling to her knees.

Neo's head cocks, and yet, his eyes soften toward the woman.

Seeing this woman, who reminds him of his mother but is the picture of innocence, seems to confound him.

"We freed you," Neo says, approaching the other side of the desk, where he waves his hand over the evidence splayed out for Anne's viewing.

Her eyes are filled with pure fear as she stands and swallows.

Neo and I remain silent as she looks over the documents laid out with Carl's severed fingers over them, and with each new revelation, Anne's breathing shifts .

"He…" she stammers.

"He was the one poisoning your children. He was also the one fucking your daughter."

A cracked sob breaks out of Anne's throat as she steps back from her dead husband, pressing herself against the wall behind where his body is slumped in his desk chair.

"I thought…"

It's well past time that Neo and I leave her house, especially since we don't know if Anne called the police before we returned downstairs.

"Who did you think was behind your children's illnesses?" Neo asks.

He's too transfixed with this case for his own good.

Anne shakes her head as if confused by the question, but her eyes flick toward her daughter for a fraction of a moment too long.

It's telling.

Everyone has tells if you only tune into their face and pay close attention to each movement.

Every twitch, every jerking muscle, is the body trying to lay their sins bare.

"You thought Ada was making everyone sick, didn't you?" I ask her.

She nods. "Because she stopped getting sick right before the cops got involved."

"It's why you kept quiet. Even if she was the one who did it, you took the time for her. You thought you were protecting her," Neo says, and there's admiration in his voice.

It's misplaced, but I can see how he'd find a mother taking the blame for their child admirable.

"If she was the one who was poisoning them, your doing time left her out here free to do whatever she wanted."

"Carl assured me that he had it under control," she whispers.

I laugh, and Neo turns to give me a slight shake of his head.

"He had it under control, alright," I sneer.

"What does she mean? What is she saying?" Anne asks, directing her question towards Neo.

Neo sighs, turning back to Anne. "She means that Ada stopped getting sick because she walked in on Carl dumping cleaner into the children's food. For her silence, Carl made a deal with Ada. One of a very sexual nature."

Anne gasps, covering her mouth as a strangled gag sound makes its way free.

"I knew that she liked to watch… I just thought it was a perversion. That the place we checked her into would help, but then the cops were involved, and I knew it would look bad, her being in there…"

"It would, especially if she decided to talk," I add.

"Why have you come all this way to do this?" Anne asks.

I'm curious to see how Neo answers, so I cross my arms over my chest and clamp my lips shut to listen.

"Because I was like your children. I was a sick game to my mother until I gained the nerve to fight back. I've spent my life avenging those who couldn't avenge themselves. I've put my bloodthirst and delusions to work for those not strong enough to do the same. It makes me a killer, but it also makes me an avenging angel to some."

My heart thumps away to hear him admit his motivations so plainly .

"What do I do now?" Anne asks, wiping her tears away as reality crashes over her.

"Now, you call the police and tell them you only just arrived. You play the grieving wife and mother, and you go on with your life without someone deluding your children and you behind your back," I tell her. "You admit what happened to your kids and build your relationship with them."

Neo turns to look at me. His face is stoic, but something glistening in his eyes screams astonishment.

"Well, you'd best be going, then," Anne says, and Neo walks over and takes me by the hand to lead me out of the house.

We've never been caught before, and tonight was sloppy, but I feel like Neo gained something from the interaction with Anne.

He got to see the mark he left on the world in his wake, and it was worth coming to London for, even if we hadn't honeymooned much.

Back at the hotel, Neo and I eat in silence.

It feels like we both need reflection. This was the oddest case we've dealt with, and it hit too close to home for Neo.

I see why he chose it.

It was his way of not allowing his mother to crawl out of her grave again, even if it wasn't him who was in harm's way .

Before we returned, we met with Cecily and gave her the updates.

She collapsed in Neo's arms and sobbed, her inner child likely healing a bit more to know that her attacker had been dealt with.

I don't know that it soothed something in Neo, but there's the slightest change in his demeanor. I don't know how to navigate it, so I've been toeing the proverbial line and keeping quiet as he processed.

"Back to reality tomorrow, stupid girl."

I want to ask what that means.

What is our new reality now that we're done with Anne Hatt and her family?

Even though Neo handled his mother long ago, it feels like this case also healed something in him. It's like he buried her a little deeper today.

All the damage Carl caused to their children is something Neo knows all too well.

It's what gave life to his deranged side.

It's what breathed life into the Butcher.

"Have we ever lived in reality?" I ask, trying to keep the banter and topics light.

He purses his lips, looking at me as if seeing me for the first time as my joke settles. "We have a honeymoon to get back to."

His words cause butterflies to take flight through my stomach, and I shift in my seat, the beats of their wings against its lining causing a tickle that makes me antsy.

"Any plans up your sleeve?" I ask him.

He shrugs, a rueful grin causing his face to darken a touch. Just enough to where I see the Butcher skirting the outer edges of his eyes. "Maybe."

"Want to share them?" I prod, popping a bit of mashed peas in my mouth, dragging the spoon out of my mouth slowly to taunt him.

His breathing hitches, and he sits back in his chair.

"Come, I have something that would look more alluring in that mouth of yours," he tells me, resting his hands on the arm of the chair as he lifts his hips a fraction of an inch, taunting me with his hardness that presses through his grey sweats like a promise.

I grab my napkin off my lap, stand, and toss it down over my plate. I wasn't finished.

But I'm hungry for something else.

I take one step.

"You know better, stupid girl. Crawl."

His words damn near make me purr.

I fall to my knees slowly before maintaining eye contact with him and crawling across the small expanse between us.

As I approach, he moves his chair back, lengthening the distance between us until the back of his chair hits the bed.

"Where will you go now, Butcher?" I tease.

"There's nowhere to go, my beautiful, stupid wife. There's nowhere but here. With you."

I try not to read into the foreboding, ominous feeling hanging over me like a cloud that his words mean that he and I will never bathe in the blood of others again.

This case, while strange, also felt different.

Like he and I were turning a page together, furthering the plot in our shared story.

"Is that so?" I ask, coasting my hands up his shins, over his knees, and finally resting them on his thighs with a squeeze .

He reaches down and clasps my throat in his hand, not hard, just enough to lay claim to my breathing.

"I never knew there was someone out there for me." He leans forward a bit, tipping my face back a hair with his hold to loom over my lips with inky intent. "Then you came into my room with a med cup in one hand, a cup of water in the other, and a look on your face that said you were mine to play with."

I swallow, opening my mouth to reply, and he gives me room to do so by loosening his grip.

"I've always wanted to ask what you saw in me. Why me?" I whisper.

He teases his lips closer, and I damn near forget we're having a conversation at all and close the distance between our mouths.

I always feel out of control near him.

His proximity steals my sensibilities, and he knows it.

His tongue darts out and teases the seam of my lips, lapping up the whimper that escapes them.

"Someone like me has a radar of sorts, one that allows him to know when he's in the company of someone likeminded. You, my perfect girl, have an aura about you that I couldn't look away from. You're radiant with insanity. You also looked at me like I was something to eat, and I very much wanted you to devour me."

My breathing halts, and my heart damn near does the same at his words. "I did not."

His malicious laugh causes every butterfly still residing in me to fall dead, twitching on the floor of my stomach. "You did, stupid girl. Don't worry; I'm not judging you. I had never wanted to see my cock disappear in something so bad before I met you. I had to have you."

"Had to have me," I whisper, lost for words, Fuck, I'm lost for thoughts.

His nose skims over mine, and I barely keep myself in check.

Barely able to keep from melting at his feet.

"You were mine from the moment we locked eyes," he growls, which breaks my resolve.

I press forward, capturing his lips as I wrap my arms around his neck and lift from the floor.

Straddling him, I deepen the kiss.

His hands grip my hips, squeezing, reminding me who's in charge, who I belong to.

Tangling my hands in his hair, I fist it in both of them as Neo's length teases my center through his clothes.

Fuck, I need him.

I know it'll always be like this with him. It's just how we are.

Until the day someone puts an end to us, we'll be the Butcher and his wife, floating in the insanity together like a storm cloud through the humid sky, gaining new life from the heat and electricity charging the air.

Living for the moment that lightning burns our souls.

His hand slides down the front of my pants and finds my core, and I break our kiss, locking eyes with the killer that has become my husband as he grins and swirls over my clit.

"Now, are you going to be my good girl tonight?" he asks, sitting up further to angle his hand down my pants as he moves toward my entrance.

I cry out and find his shoulders with my hands, hoping to any god who will listen that he doesn't feel like punishing me for anything.

There's always a need right at the surface, begging him to satiate it, but right now it's consuming me whole, and he's the answer to what ails me.

"I'll be your good girl," I whisper as he angles his arm further and sinks two fingers inside my wet heat.

"I'll be the judge of that."

I let my head fall back as I clutch his shoulders tighter.

My pleasure is up to the Butcher of Crows Hollow, and I wouldn't have it any other way.