by Stella Hart
He nodded. “Right. Unfortunately we have no idea how he found you or the Circle, because his memory is gone, and he wasn’t meant to be looking for you, so he didn’t leave any sort of notes or trail that will help us. I suppose that’s largely my fault too.”
I shook my head. “No, I get it. It’s fine.”
I understood why Foley had told West to stop searching for me. It wasn’t out of coldness. It simply wasn’t West’s assignment at the time, and Foley—like the police and others—assumed I’d run away. Given the pain I was in at the time, it wasn’t surprising that people might think that about me. I didn’t blame them, and I wasn’t angry.
Foley went on. “Whatever he did to figure it out, he did a hell of a job. Finding a missing girl and discovering the existence of a secret cabal of pedophiles is no small feat. We all wish he’d told someone instead of racing out there alone and getting himself shot, but I suppose the past is the past. Knowing him, I’m sure he had his reasons.”
“I can speak to that, actually,” I said softly. “He told me when he found me, in the few minutes we had together. He did tell someone that he’d found out about the Circle—Dwyer. Dwyer told him to keep it quiet for a while, and that he’d help him sort it out. When he arrived at the mansion that evening, he thought Dwyer would be there with a whole crack team of other agents to help him take the place down. He had no idea he was being lied to and set up to be killed, seeing as Dwyer was actually in the Circle.”
It was a close enough approximation to the truth.
“I see. That makes sense.” Foley sighed. “Well, now that slimy bastard Dwyer isn’t around, West will be getting promoted to his old position. As soon as he’s recovered enough, that is.”
I smiled. “Good. He deserves it.”
He nodded slowly and scratched at his jaw again. “He does. I’d really like to know how he figured it all out in the first place, though. Purely out of interest. He had some pretty wild theories at first. You know, when he first told me about his search for you, he actually thought the Heartbreaker had you. Crazy, right?”
I smiled thinly. “I guess.”
“Speaking of the Heartbreaker, it’s a shame he’s dead, really. We know how and why he chose his victims now, but we’ll probably never know who he was or how he found out about the Circle.”
“Some mysteries just live on forever,” I said evenly. “I suppose he’s one of them.”
“Yes. Anyway, you probably need to get some more rest.” He straightened his back. “I’ll see you later, Celeste.”
“Thanks for coming to see me, sir.”
He stepped out, and I turned to Alex with raised brows. “Did you hear that? Apparently the Heartbreaker had me.”
He chuckled and cocked his head to the side. “Had?”
I gave him a mischievous grin and reached for one of his hands. “I guess I should say ‘has’ instead. The Heartbreaker has me.”
And he always would.
19
Alex
1 year later
“Celeste? You out here?”
I frowned and looked out over our spacious backyard. The sky was washed with gray, the ground was a slushy mixture of snow and mud, and the leaves that hadn’t dropped from the trees during fall were lined with ice crystals. Celeste was nowhere to be seen.
It was our second winter together, and our first at our new house. I’d sold my old property and bought this place so that we could make a fresh start, a decision we’d arrived at together after our exploits last year. New place, new chapter in our lives.
Our house was set on a sizable block of land in Point Breeze—much closer to everything than the property near Burgettstown, and bigger than my investment condo and house in Shadyside.
It wasn’t easy saying goodbye to the old house, but we needed to move on after all that had happened last year. The Circle was gone, my sister was avenged in my eyes, and I no longer felt any burning urges to kill. Remaining on the property where I’d kept and killed so many people felt too much like lingering in the past for my liking, and I knew it held some bad memories for Celeste too, as much as she loved certain aspects of the place.
She’d finally managed to sell her parents’ old house in Fox Chapel too, so that was yet another place from the past that would no longer haunt her. She didn’t keep any of the money from the sale—it all went to a charitable organization she and Samara had set up for the kids and maids who we’d rescued from the mansion last year. They needed a lot of help adjusting to life in regular society after the horrors they’d endured, some for years on end, but with the help of angels like Celeste, I knew they’d get there eventually.
I went back inside to look for her, wondering if she was in the bathroom. She hadn’t been when I searched for her earlier, but the house was big, so I might’ve just missed her. I knew she was home, because her car was here, and she’d finished college weeks ago.
A light bulb seemed to switch on in my mind as I found the bathroom empty yet again, and I headed back outside. Of course. The greenhouse. It was the one thing we’d transported over from the old property, because I knew how much she’d adored growing things in it during her time there.
It was around the left side of the house, and when I stepped inside, I marveled at what she’d achieved. Contrary to the dead, barren whiteness of the wintery outside world, the greenhouse was alive and blooming with colorful flowers and vegetables. Clusters of white orchids reared their heads from a planter box to my left, and beyond that was a rainbow mixture of yellow, orange, purple, fuchsia and red-hued lilies and roses lining the edge of the little building. On the far side was a multi-tiered planter filled with herbs, and the rest of the place was taken up by large vegetable patches.
“I should’ve known I’d find you out here,” I said with a grin as I approached Celeste. She was crouched on the ground with a hand pruner, trimming some wayward leaves. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”
She glanced up with a smile. “Sorry. When I’m in here, I’m always off in my own little world,” she said, setting the pruner down and wiping her hands on her jeans. “What’s up?”
I tapped on my watch. “We were going to go for a run when I got home, remember?”
She slapped her forehead. “Oh, duh. I knew I was forgetting something. Give me a minute and I’ll get changed.”
She thought we were just going for a casual jog along her favorite path through Frick Park, but it was so much more than that. A few hours from now, we’d be setting off along a whole new path entirely.
Half an hour later, we started along Celeste’s usual trail, bundled in thick jackets and knit caps. The thick of winter had settled on us, bringing with it snow-covered trees, bitterly-cold air, and the occasional swirl of color from dead leaves dancing in the icy winds.
Most people preferred to stay inside on days like this, but Celeste loved being in the park come rain, hail, or shine. It was her way of escaping the grit of city life, and when she ran, she was able to put any worries right out of her mind.
She’d had a lot of those in the last several months.
After the Circle story broke, she (along with the kids who’d been imprisoned and tortured there) had been inundated with all sorts of interview requests by the media. Not only that, people simply stopped and stared at her in the streets sometimes, recognizing her as ‘that girl’ the Circle wanted dead so badly, and many of them rudely asked to talk to her about it, wanting to hear all about her experience to satisfy their cravings for sick, sordid drama.
A few people even accused her of knowing the cabal existed all along, given her father’s involvement with them, but they were thankfully few and far between. If I ever heard anyone say that to her while I was around, they’d find themselves missing a few teeth. They’d also be lucky they didn’t find themselves cuffed and bleeding on my table, down in the old fallout shelter. I’d given that life up, of course, but assholes like that still made my blood boil.
Celeste had been stressed by it all, but
she’d taken it in stride, and I was proud of the way she’d handled it. She kept quiet despite the media furor and set up the charity with Samara to help the mansion victims, and that was as far as it went. She didn’t respond to any requests for interviews, and the only thing she’d ever publicly commented on was a book written by Emily, the maid who helped us get everyone out of the mansion that momentous night.
As it turned out, in the fifteen years Emily had been kept at the mansion, she’d spent her time reading (when she wasn’t being tortured or forced to work) and that had inspired her to write a book about her captivity once she was free. Not to make money, but because she found it cathartic to get it all out onto paper.
At first she’d been worried that Celeste and the others would think she was doing it for fame and exploiting their terrible experiences for money, but Celeste understood why she’d written it and fully supported her. She helped her find an agent and a publisher, and when the book hit the bestseller lists a few months ago, she made a brief statement to a well-regarded news site, stating the significance of the book and how she hoped it might make people stand up and pay more attention to the plight of at-risk kids. After all, many of the kids taken by the Circle—Emily included—were the sort of children that tended to slip through the cracks. Not from the ‘right’ families, or the ‘right’ neighborhood, or the ‘right’ socioeconomic group. More than half of them had been brushed aside as runaways when they went missing, and their disappearances were never investigated beyond that.
“Did you hear back from your parents about Christmas?” Celeste asked, resting her hand against a tree trunk for support as she took a quick break from the jog.
I nodded. “They’re coming to visit next week, but only for a few days.”
I hadn’t been particularly close with my family since they chose to disbelieve Lina all those years ago, but now that the harrowing truth had finally come out, they’d practically crawled on their knees begging for my forgiveness, seeing as I was the only one who never stopped believing her. I told them I wasn’t the one who they needed to apologize to—my sister was, only she wasn’t around anymore.
I didn’t want to say anything other than that, but Celeste talked me down. She told me that family was important, and if they were truly sorry for what they’d done, I should at least try to let them into my life again, or I might end up with regrets later. I’d already held onto so much grief over the years, and pushing away people who wanted me in their lives wasn’t going to help.
She was right. My parents and other sister were repentant, and I knew if they could turn back time, they’d believe every word Lina told them. And so I’d let them back into my life. We chatted on the phone every couple of weeks, and they’d even met Celeste a few months ago when we took a short trip to Maine to visit them.
“Only a few days?” Celeste’s face fell.
I held up a palm. “It’s not because I don’t want to see them. It’s just that we won’t be around much over Christmas.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Why? I thought we were staying here.”
I pointed up the trail. “Beat me to the fairy door, and I might tell you why.”
With a grin, I took off, and she tore down the trail after me. “Hey! Not fair!” she called out. When we reached the tiny fairy door someone had installed in the hollow of a large dead oak tree—one of Celeste’s favorite markers on the trail—she crouched down on the ground for a moment, puffing and panting. Then she stood up and lobbed a snowball at my chest. “That’s what you get for cheating.”
I brushed white flakes off my jacket. “You’ll pay for that later, naughty girl.”
She arched a brow. “Really? Maybe that’s what I wanted all along.”
I chuckled. “Oh, I know.”
“So what’s the deal? Why aren’t we going to be in the city much over Christmas?”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Well, you’re not always a bad girl….” I began slowly, teasing her. “So I got you this. It’s a gift to celebrate you graduating and getting offered your dream job.”
A few weeks ago, Celeste had finished her studies for good, and her old internship boss Leonard Foley had offered her an analyst position at the local FBI field office, starting next year. I’d never been prouder of my girl for making her dreams come true.
Her eyes widened, and she carefully opened the envelope. She squealed as she pulled out two plane tickets. “Oh my god. Barbados?”
“Yup. Figured we could escape the cold for a few weeks. Samara already offered to housesit and take care of the plants when we go.”
“Thank you. I can’t wait,” she said, throwing her arms around me. “I’m so lucky to have you,” she added in a soft murmur.
“I’m lucky to have you. That’s why the tickets aren’t the only surprise.” I pulled back and winked.
“There’s more?”
“Yes, there is.” I slipped a little black velvet box out of another pocket, which had been zipped shut for safety.
Celeste’s hand flew to her mouth as I got down on one knee and flipped open the box to reveal a white gold and diamond round-cut halo engagement ring.
I could’ve waited until we were on our sunny island paradise, but this park was Celeste’s favorite place in the world, so as far as I was concerned, there was no better place to ask her to be mine forever.
I knew I didn’t really need to ask. She’d made it clear a very long time ago that she was mine to keep, but still, I wanted this moment to be special.
“Celeste, we both know you’re mine, but I want to make it official. I want everyone else to see that you’re mine too. Forever. So will you marry me?”
It wasn’t the most romantic proposal in the world. I’d never been one of those sappy, starry-eyed guys who knew all the right things to say to make women swoon and sigh. But Celeste’s tears of joy said otherwise, and she nodded vehemently, her eyes wider than ever. “You didn’t even need to ask,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. “You already knew what I’d say.”
As she spoke, she took off her left glove and let me slip the ring onto her finger. She beamed as I kissed the hand and put the glove back on so she wouldn’t freeze. The ring couldn’t be seen under the thick black knit fabric, but Celeste’s happiness was more than visible. Joy was practically radiating from her, and her shining green eyes brimmed with more happy tears as she stared up at me adoringly.
I leaned down and swept her into my arms. “You’re right; I did know. You belong to me,” I growled next to her ear.
“Always have,” she whispered, her voice still choked with passion. “Always will. You saved me, Alex, and I love you so much.”
She might never fully realize this, but she saved me too. Saved me from becoming a total monster.
Before she loved me and filled my life with her warmth and quiet strength, I was nothing but a raging killer with a broken soul, detached from humanity in my dark quest for revenge against the men who hurt my sister. I didn’t regret killing them, not one bit, but in the end, that existence was bitterly cold and lonely.
Celeste cut right through that. She understood my needs, and she helped me and forgave me for everything. Even the unforgivable. She shared my pain and my burden as if they were her own. She saw the light and humanity still left in me, and she brought me all the tender care and heated passion I needed to melt my icy black heart.
She brought me to life.
Without her, I would still be alone and filled with nothing but cold, dark fury. I wouldn’t have let the bloodshed end with the Circle’s demise; I would’ve found another target. Or targets, more likely. Anything to slake the inferno that’d raged within me since I was a young man, growing wilder and stronger with each kill. But with Celeste, that need was finally squashed. I had other things to live for now; other people to live for. I would only ever kill again if it was an absolute necessity.
All because of her.
I smiled down at her, staring into t
hose perfect sparkling eyes. “I love you too, angel,” I murmured. “And you’re not just mine, you know. I’m yours.”
Epilogue
Celeste
4 years later
“Please, sir,” I whimpered, desperately struggling against my bonds. My wrists were tied behind me, and I was bent over the edge of the bed. “It’s not fair. I don’t deserve this.”
Alex’s commanding voice snapped through the room like a whip. His riding crop snapped across my tender ass at the same time, stirring my craving into a frenzy. “Stop lying. You know I can always tell. You need punishment, and you know why. You know what you did.”
“I’m sorry,” I moaned. As I spoke, Alex clicked something, and the vibrating thong he’d made me put on switched off, leaving me desperate and begging. He’d been doing this for half an hour now. Enough to get me to the edge, but never enough to push me over. Sweet, hot torment. “Oh, please, it’s not fair….” I begged.
“If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t have denied it.” There was another crack of the crop across my delicate skin. “You deserve this, and you need to admit it, or it won’t stop.”
I cried out. My whole body was on fire, quivering with the intensity of my desire. I ached for a release, but if I kept defying Alex, he would rob me of that. “You’re right. I need this,” I sobbed.
“Yes, you do.” The vibration switched on again.
I squirmed and moaned, so fucking desperate to come. I was desperate to come earlier too, and so I’d broken today’s rule—no touching myself or climaxing when Alex wasn’t around.
He’d suspected something the second he stepped through the door. My flushed cheeks gave it away, and when he bent me over the kitchen counter and pulled my soaked panties down, he knew for sure. This was my punishment.
“I’ll never do it again,” I said breathlessly. “I won’t break any more rules.”
