Chapter 40

“Cora, what’s going on?” my mom asks, looking between where Slater was standing just a moment ago and me.

“I don’t know, mom,” I reply, biting my lip as I consider my options.

I’m fairly sure Slater’s just worked out that it was his dad who hurt me yesterday and is responsible for my split lip and swollen, bruised face. He was furious - angrier than I’ve ever seen him before, and it scares me.

I’m not afraid of Slater. I’m afraid for him, for what he might do to Sean, and what Sean will do in retaliation.

He’s already shown that he isn’t messing around yesterday, fucking with my mom’s job and our home. I can’t risk him hurting Slater too.

“I’m going to go after him, mom, and see what’s wrong. Can I borrow your car?”

“Of course, but —”

I don’t let her finish, rushing into the hallway and snatching her car keys off the table on my way out of the house.

The drive over is excruciating. I hit every red light and get stuck behind every slow driver under the sun, making me curse up a storm as I drum my fingers on the steering wheel in impatience.

When I finally pull up outside Sean’s house, my heart is pounding. Slater’s car is practically abandoned out front, but there’s no sign of him anywhere. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for whatever I might find inside.

I don’t bother knocking as I push open the unlocked front door, my eyes scanning the familiar surroundings. The smell of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume hangs in the air, making me wrinkle my nose in distaste.

“Slater?” I call out, my voice echoing through the empty house. Silence greets me in response, only broken by the creaking of the floorboards beneath my feet.

I make my way through the living room, checking each room carefully. The whole place is eerily quiet. The hairs on the back of my neck tingle.

It’s crazy, and only because I’m still jumpy after yesterday, but I slip into the kitchen and grab the biggest knife I can find from the block before continuing to explore, the handle gripped tightly in my grip, the blade glinting in the light streaming in through the large windows.

It’s only when I reach the back of the house that I hear voices coming from the basement. I knew the house had a basement, of course, but when my mom and I lived here, we were never permitted to enter it.

Heart racing, I descend the steps cautiously, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. And then, as I round the corner, I halt.

Frozen in the doorway, the blood pounding in my ears, all I can do is stare at the scene before me.

Slater is tied to a bed, naked, his face bruised and bloodied, his eyes wide with fear as his aunt, Heather, straddles him with a cruel smile on her lips. She’s taunting him, her words dripping with malice as she revels in his helplessness.

“Come on, Slater, you can do better than that,” she sneers, a wicked glint in her eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be well-trained.”

She laughs and rakes her nails down his chest, but he doesn’t react bar the tightening of his jaw. What does she want from him? And why is he so badly beaten?

My hands clench around the handle of the knife, my knuckles turning white as I watch the scene unfold before me. I swear Slater’s eyes meet mine for a split second, a silent plea for help passing between us, but then he blinks and it’s gone, and he’s staring right through me like I don’t exist.

He’s somewhere else inside his head, retreated to some other place that makes what he’s going through slightly more bearable.

With rage boiling up inside me, I take a step back, then another, and then I charge at Heather, the knife held tightly in my grip. I don’t know what comes over me, but maybe it’s the fear in Slater’s eyes, or the anger at his abuse, but all I can think of is ending this.

Without a second thought, I lunge forward, the knife raised high above my head as I scream in anger and desperation. Heather whirls around in surprise, her smile fading into a look of shock as she sees me charging toward her. The knife plunges into her chest with a sickening squelch, and she lets out a strangled cry of pain. Blood gushes from the wound, staining everything crimson as she stumbles back, clutching at the hilt protruding from her chest.

Her body falls backward, pulling her off Slater, whose eyes widen in disbelief as he watches his aunt fall to the ground, her life draining away before our eyes. He’s panting heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles against his restraints.

I pull the knife out and drop it to the floor with a noisy clatter, gasping for breath. Heart pounding as I watch his aunt’s life fade from her eyes, seeing but not really processing what’s happening. What I’ve just done.