Page 76 of Shattered In Darkness

I try to sound bored. “Why do you care? You’re the one who dragged me out here, not him.”

He ignores that. “How deep are you in his shit? Are you just a puppet, or do you help him with the dirty work?”

I force a laugh, but it comes out brittle. “You think I’m his partner? Please. I’m just a body he uses.”

He shifts, boots planted wide. “You’re not that innocent. I know you’re not.”

“Why do you even give a fuck?” I snap. “What, am I supposed to believe you’re some kind of avenging angel? You’re just a freak in a mask.”

“You want to know why I care? You want the truth?” His voice cracks, rage pulsing beneath it. “I care because Marcus killed my mother.”

I go still. All of his anger suddenly makes sense.

He’s breathing hard. “You were there. I know you were. He sent you. Or you let it happen. You were the reason she died.” The world tilts. My mouth works but nothing comes out. I see his fist clench, the way his shoulders shake. He lets go of my face but doesn’t move away. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Lola. I want to hear you say what you did.”

I swallow, fury and fear tangled, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re insane. I had nothing to do with your mother.”

He slams his hand down on the chair, making me jump. “You were there. The night she died. You. Marcus. All his fucking people. You know what happened.”

He’s losing it. I can see it in the way his jaw flexes, the way his breath stutters. He almost looks broken. Silence chokes the room. My heart hammers asI stare up at the mask, searching for answers in the black holes where his eyes should be.

“You’re going to tell me everything. Or I’ll make you beg for mercy.”

I hold my head high, but his words get under my skin like poison. I don’t dare look away. He paces, boots grinding into the floor. He looks huge, unhinged, dangerous.

“You think I don’t know a liar when I see one? You always were good at pretending, Lola. Always so fucking good.” He stops, looming over me, chest heaving. “You know what Marcus did. You know how he works. You know how people disappear. You know who he destroys. So why don’t you stop fucking lying and tell me what happened the night my mother died?”

The words cut me. I flinch, even though I hate myself for it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper.

“You were there. You think I’d forget? You think I’d let it go? You think I can’t see you in my head every night, the blood, the screaming?” He crouches, the mask inches from my face. I can feel his breath, hot and shaking through the holes.

“Why do you care so much?” I spit, desperate, angry, afraid. “Why does it matter what happened to her? Why does it matter to you⁠—”

He jolts back, hands shaking. “Because she was my mother, Lola. Because your fucking family took everything from me. Because I loved you and you let them ruin me, ruin her, ruin everything. Because you’re the reason I wake up every day wanting to kill someone.”

His voice is splintered, wild, nothing like the monster’s voice at all. It’s a boy’s voice, furious, grieving, undone. My mouth goes dry. I know that voice. I know the shape of that pain. My brain tries to catch up, to make sense of the impossible.

He rips the mask off.

For a second, I can’t breathe. My heart stops, then slams back to life, too hard, too loud.

My Brody. The boy who used to look at me like I was his whole world. The boy I ruined. The boy who left.

“Brody?” I whisper. It barely comes out.

The room spins. I stagger back, but he catches my wrist, holds me captive in his stare. All the secrets, the pain, the obsession. It’s all right there in front of me.

He voice comes out shattered, “Now you know. You don’t leave until I get the truth. Not until you finally fucking pay for what happened to her.”

My whole world crashes down. Brody is here. My monster. My only salvation. My punishment.

And now there’s nowhere left to run.

“I don’t understand. You kidnapped me? You planned all of this? What the fuck, Brody?” I raise my voice and push at his chest. Now that I know who it is, my fear lessens.

But, he gives me a reason to keep feeling terror.

Brody’s face hardens when he takes my hands in his. His grip is so tight, I am afraid he might crush my bones. “How does it feel to be betrayed? Sucks doesn’t it? I found out about you being taken. That wasn’t my plan, it was my father’s. I overheard and intercepted. You’re mine, Bambi. Mine to have, mine to ruin, mine to destroy.”