Chapter Sixteen

Raven

Lying in bed, Ty and I face each other in the dim room, naked under the duvet, our hair still damp from the shower. The flickering light from the TV dances across the walls, casting faint shadows over us.

All I can do is stare into his eyes. Those piercing eyes that have terrified me, unsettled me, consumed me. But tonight, something changed. Tonight, I saw him—truly saw him . Not the man who kidnapped me, not the killer, not the psychopath, I’ve been trying so hard to figure out.

I saw the boy beneath it all, the boy who was destroyed piece by piece until there was nothing left but pain and rage. Something inside me broke when I saw him like that.

I asked him to show me his world, and he did. God, he did. But I never expected this. I should have, though, shouldn’t I? The signs were all there—hiding in the edges of his words, the way he looked at me when I pushed too far. The scars that covered his body, the venom in his voice when he spoke of his parents, the anger and desperation when he mentioned his sister. It was all there, waiting for me to see it. But I didn’t. I was too scared of him, too caught up in his violence and unpredictability to look beyond the monster I thought he was.

Now, I know. And knowing… it hurts. It’s a heartache I wasn’t ready for. Ty is broken. He’s fractured into so many pieces that I don’t know if he’ll ever be whole again. The people who were supposed to protect him, love him, cherish him—they were the ones who tore him apart. They turned him into this. Into someone who doesn’t know how to love or trust, someone who hides his pain behind walls so high, I’m amazed I even got to see the other side.

I feel sick knowing what he went through. I feel devastated for him, for the boy he was, for the little boy I saw in those woods tonight who might not make it out alive. It’s the same ache I’d feel for anyone who has endured that kind of suffering, but with Ty, it’s different. It’s personal. Because even though I’m sometimes afraid of him, even though I’ve hated him at times, I care . I care so much it makes me want to fucking scream.

Knowing this about him, about his past, it makes me feel like something inside me has changed forever. Like I’ll never look at him the same way again. How could I? How could anyone?

“Don’t pity me, kitten,” he murmurs. “That’s all I ask.”

“It’s not pity,” I whisper back, my lips twitching into a small, teasing smile. “I still think you’re an unhinged asshole, don’t worry.”

A faint smile cracks his otherwise stony expression, but it doesn’t linger. As quickly as it appears, it vanishes, leaving only the intensity in his gaze. I shift closer, feeling the warmth of his bare skin against mine, the hard muscles of his chest meeting the soft curves of my breasts. His arm snakes around my back, pulling me in, holding me there and our faces are so close that I can feel his breath on my lips.

“What’s your plan, Ty?” I ask softly. “If you’re not killing them, then who are you killing?”

He watches me for a moment, his eyes dark and stormy, then he lets out a slow exhale, his forehead grazing mine as he adjusts his head on the pillow.

“I am killing those people, kitten,” he answers. “But I can’t kill all of them. Even if I want to. I’m just one man with his axe. I have to stick to my plan—focus on the ones who were directly involved with me and my sister.”

His words sink in, and I stare into his eyes, piecing together everything he’s said, everything I’ve seen tonight, and everything I know about him. His earlier words from the woods echo back, and for the first time, they truly click.

As much as it sickens me to admit, he’s right. There are too many of them, too much evil in the world to erase. Even someone like Ty, with his relentless viciousness, can’t take on a system so deeply rooted. If he tried, it would kill him and there would still be no end. But that truth doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

“What happened to her?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ty’s gaze hardens slightly at my question, his jaw tightening.

“They took her,” he begins. “My parents… they gave her to them. Like she was fucking nothing. Just a bargaining chip for their sick obsession with power.”

I feel my throat tighten, but I don’t say anything. I let him talk, sensing he needs to let it out, even if every word feels like a dagger to the heart.

“She was ten. Ten fucking years old, and they handed her over to monsters. I always begged my parents to leave her out of it,” he says with a bitterness that cuts deep. “I told them to do what they wanted to me. Put me through the hell, but never her.”

His eyes lower, shadowed with memories I can’t begin to fathom. “My father would beat and whip me for speaking out, every damn time, but it didn’t stop me from saying it.”

When his gaze rises again, it pins me in place. “She was a rebellious, stubborn little thing—three years younger than me, and I encouraged it. I told her to stay that way. Not to provoke them, but because I knew what they wanted.” His jaw clenches as his teeth grind. “They liked them innocent, quiet, soft. They didn’t want fight. They wanted obedience.”

I don’t speak. I don’t move. I just listen.

“For a while, it felt like my plan was working. They were just happy using me. As much as it was killing me, breaking me, I could take it if it meant keeping her safe. But then, one day, everything changed.

He shifts slightly, staring past me as if the room has disappeared, replaced by something only he can see. “They told us we were going to dinner. Some high-end fucking place in the city. Said we needed to dress our best.” His lips form into a thin line. “And we did. We went for dinner. But after, the limousine stopped outside a mansion…”