Page 158 of Wicked Lord

She was right, of course. Haversham might have been a loathsome, vile creature, but killing him would only ensure his memory lived on forever in my nightmares. I never took my eyes off Lorelei as I released his throat. The bastard sucked in ragged gulps of air, choking and wheezing.

“You’re the only one who can talk sense into me when I’m on the verge of completely wrecking my life,” I muttered.

A sweet smile curved her mouth. “Maybe you should keep me around to prevent any future wreckage.”

“That’s the plan.” I brushed my fingers across her bottom lip where faint bruises had already formed from that asshole’s gun. “Call the police. We’ll let them handle Haversham. Two counts of attempted murder should put him away for a while. I’ll make sure of it.”

And if he ever bothered her again, I’d gladly endure a lifetime of being haunted by the prick, because he’d be a dead man.

She stood, making her way to where her phone had dropped on the ground.

“That bitch has made you soft, Vanderhart.”

As my head snapped toward him, fire erupted across my eyes. Wet heat streamed down my face, blurring the world into a searing smear of pain.

What the fuck?

“Did you just mace me?”

Brock shoved me off, and moments later, Lorelei’s scream shredded the night.

Panic slammed into my chest, and I tried to blink through the burning agony, but my vision was a blurry mess.

“You’re not getting away that easily, Lorelei.”

The words slithered through the dark, and my blood turned to ice.

Fuzzy shapes moved near the cliff’s edge. Two figures. One too tall and the other one too small in his grip.

“No.” The word tore out of me as I shoved myself up, the ground tilting beneath my feet. My skull throbbed and eyes burned, but I staggered toward them anyway. “Let her go!”

Brock’s laugh rolled over the cliffside, low and cruel, a sound dragged straight from the pit of hell. “I intend to.”

My stomach dropped.

For one horrible second, the world sharpened just enough for me to see her. Lorelei. Her hair whipping in the wind. Her body twisted in his grasp. Her eyes locked on mine.

Everything stopped.

The wind. The sea. My heartbeat.

I was back there again, trapped in that night from years ago. Only this time, Peter wasn’t the one about to plunge into the black.

It was my fucking heart.

“Lorelei!”

Her name ripped from my throat as I bolted forward, grief and terror shredding through me with every step.

This was punishment. It had to be. For every sin. Every lie. Every drop of blood on my hands.

I was doomed to lose the only thing I had ever truly wanted to keep.

Brock stood at the edge, his silhouette carved against the moonless sky like some nightmare made flesh.

Then he smiled.

And swung Lorelei toward the darkness.