Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 47525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
I wait for her to take a breath; I’ve never been good at fielding a dozen questions at once anyway.
“How the hell did you do it?” she demands. “Actually, don’t tell me. Legally, I have an obligation to report this, and I’m sure you knew that when you hired me as some sort of sick joke. But as your former friend—”
“We were never friends,” I say calmly, stepping closer. “I hired you because you were the most thorough researcher and podcaster that’d ever been attached to the case. And if you were dead-set on her guilt and you’d done all the research in and out, I figured you’d be very useful to me.”
“So, all this was a setup.” She narrows her eyes. “A game to get your girlfriend locked up for shits and giggles?”
“It wasn’t a game. It was much-deserved payback for men who think they can slide rape under the rug like unwanted dust.” I pause. “By the way, you can now apologize for ever uttering the words ‘potential rape.’ I found that quite offensive.”
She says nothing.
“Sadie was never supposed to go to prison, let alone be found guilty at trial.” I address her other question. “That was a fuck-up on her part, but I vowed to do whatever it took to get her out… Seeing as though she really didn’t murder these men, it makes perfect sense.”
“How clever.” She scoffs. “If that was a fuck-up, I wonder what you’ll call this one. What will they say when they find out that Dr. Weiss—the golden savior of innocents worn down by the system—is actually a killer?”
“You’re speaking in hypotheticals, correct?” I shrug, knowing I’d never get caught. “If that did happen, in some alternate universe, I’d probably be pissed they only report on these three murders, and not the countless others. Thes are my least remarkable by a long shot.”
Her mouth falls open.
“People like her former lawyer, the jury members who accepted money to find her guilty no matter what, and hmmm—” I pause to think about all the “missing” people on my list who’ve died at my hands. “I guess I’ll throw in the prison guard who lied on her in there, too.”
“You’re disgusting.” She backs toward the door.
“Out of what little professional respect I have left for you, I’ll give you a twenty-minute head start to leave before me.” She twists the doorknob, unaware that I locked it the moment we came inside. “Then I’m going straight to the police.”
“Twenty minutes is very generous of you, but…” I tilt my head, slow and curious. “You honestly think you’re leaving?”
35
SADIE
Back then...
Ihave a new job now.
Instead of arranging florals, I paint custom portraits online for my followers.
My office is a café on the edge of town, and I look forward to the occasional glimpse of a man who’s been starring in my fantasies.
Always dressed in a crisp button-down and freshly pressed dark slacks, he sits alone with his laptop. From what I’ve gathered, he’s some kind of doctor—successful enough to drive three cars: an Audi R8, a BMW, and a Porsche.
He’s also the only reason I can afford to eat here twice a week. The waiter told me he’s put over a thousand dollars on a tab just for me and said, “Don’t let her pay a dime.”
He’s never said a word to me, though.
I don’t even know his name.
As I step into the parking lot, I spot a man creeping up behind the sexy stranger—both hands gripped around a steel bar, raised high and ready to strike.
Instinct takes over.
“Hey!” I scream, sprinting across the pavement before I can second-guess myself.
The attacker jerks around, startled, and swings the bar in my direction. I duck just in time, stumbling back—but it’s enough. The stranger seizes the moment. He snatches the weapon mid-air and slams the man to the ground in one swift, brutal move.
The attacker groans, blood pooling beneath him, but he doesn’t get back up.
Heart pounding, I stand there, breathless, adrenaline flooding my veins. I fumble for my phone, ready to dial 9-1-1...
But when I look up, the stranger is already facing me—eyes dark, jaw tight. And he’s glaring at me like I’m the one who crossed a line.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snaps.
“He was about to attack you.”
“And?” His tone sharpens. “You should’ve let him try. I would've handled it much better. Trust me.”
“Okay, fine.” I take a step back. “Next time, I will. I’ll never help you again. Actually, I hope I never see you again.”
“Good.”
“Ugh.” I scoff and turn away, but he grabs my waist from behind and spins me around.
“Do you understand that he could’ve killed you?” His eyes blaze. “You look like you weigh, what, a hundred forty-five pounds soaking wet? He was easily three hundred.”
“This is a weird way to say thank you for saving my life.”