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and nail him between his legs, he cries and yelps like a stuck pig, begging me to end his life.

“I’m just getting started, Isaac,” I lie, take a step back, pull out my gun, and shoot him right between his eyes.

CHAPTER NINE

Victoria

‘It’s okay to be a little fucked up in the head. We all are.’

I read that saying by Marilyn Monroe years ago in a book about the actresses’ life. Danika gave it to me one year for my birthday.

I’d always had somewhat of a girl crush on Marilyn. More her clothing style and inspirational story about overcoming a lousy childhood. It gave her tough skin to beat the scrutiny of Hollywood. Marilyn was fascinating, fragile, intelligent, and a great actress. Both on and off the screen.

Something urged me to pull it out from the box in my closet this morning while waiting for Theo to pick me up for work. When I opened it and read the words, I immediately thought that sums me up to the tee.

I’m as fucked up as anyone else. I’m a walking, talking contradictory woman, full of conflicting emotions. Some so painful, it hurts to take a breath.

A part of me is shattered and disconnected. But there is also a part of me that’s like my mother and Marilyn. Strong, vibrant, and bold. Never have I wanted to take a leap of faith until Seth plowed through me like a hurricane. Leaving so much for me to clean up in such a short time.

Aggressive and armed with enough ammunition to blow away some of the grief clear out of my chest.

Saving me from eventually going insane.

To make me want him more than I’ve ever wanted another man.

He opened my eyes, making me see there’s light at the end of the tunnel, and I might never understand how he just wormed his way right into my heart.

Honestly, he’s been there all along. We just set off on the wrong path.

Seth was gone this morning when I came out of the bedroom. The entire time I was getting ready, I kept trying to convince myself he’ll drag me into a world of darkness when in truth, I’m already there. I have been my entire life, all the while fearing the one thing that will happen to us all.

Death.

Swallowing my fear is going to be hard. It’s going to stay lodged in my throat until I find the courage to choke it down.

I’ve always been afraid of it. I’m so scared it’ll happen again by the time the killer is found. If I were to lose Dad, Dray, Diesel, Seth, or anyone else, I don’t think I would survive. I know I wouldn’t.

Death is cruel. It doesn’t care; it doesn’t differentiate. It snatches who it wants. Taking people far too young and kind. It doesn’t concern itself with the people left behind or that someone might stumble upon dead bodies. It’s one of the two things guaranteed in life.

You are born, and then one day, you die.

But my fear of it goes so much deeper than that. So much deeper that once I got to work, something came over me when I thought about the scary word.

I surrendered to the knowledge I have to live my life without some of the people I love. It’s just the way it is. Losing them will never get easier, not how it happened, no, that will never clear from my mind.

Then suddenly, all I could think about was Seth. How he caught every lie I said, crushing them and throwing them right back in my face. The sincerity in his eyes, and the way I opened to him so quickly.

How he kept stroking my hair, rubbing my back while I cried as the crashing waves of sadness kept pulling me under. Seth holding me was a comfort to my torn apart soul, despite the emptiness in my heart.

And God, once I’d woken and really thought about what he’d done. I loved and hated how he poked and prodded and pushed until there wasn’t anything left holding me together except him.

But I also want to stand steady on my own, and in time I will. I just need to get a hold of the severe, cutting grief.

The weight of it is so heavy.

Baby steps at thirty-one years old. Then and only then will I deal with my fear.

Seth’s right about there being something between us too. It’s fierce and persistent, thrumming at my heart all day and pulling at those strings that have been tense and tight between since first glance. I want them to break. To set us free from time wasted. To push forward with a hefty shove.

Hanging up my coat, I freeze when I turn to see Seth standing several feet away. The soft glow of the light above him casting a dark shadow over his face. I see his eyes moving in my direction, dissecting to determine if I’m okay.

I want to tell him I am, but the version of Seth I’m gawking at is one I’ve never seen before.

His hair is down, tie loose at the neck—shoulders broad and more prominent underneath a gray suit jacket. I’ve never seen him dressed in anything other than jeans or black fatigues. Sweet baby Jesus, he was born to wear a suit.

Chills roll down my spine. I always wondered what he’d look like in a suit. I used to fantasize about it when I made them. I usually ended the night with my fingers between my legs at images of him in one of mine.

Jealousy ripples through me at the idea he’s wearing another designer’s clothes. Still, it leaves just as quick when he takes slow, controlled predatory steps my way, only to pause and rake his eyes appreciatively down my body.

My God, he’s beautiful. So good-looking in the ruin to my heart kind of way.

“You know, I woke several hours ago, took a shower, and thought maybe we’d start from the beginning. That I’d take you

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