Denouement (The Darkness Series Book 3)

by Brightmore, Cassia

  Grinning at the thought of teasing a reaction out of Aubrey again, he strolled over to her and leaned his elbows on the counter, his left arm brushing her right in a deliberate manner.

  Her green eyes looked up at him in surprise at his sudden appearance and if he wasn’t mistaken, he thought he saw a hint of a smile play across her lips.

  “Hey, sweets,” he greeted her. Her hair was in one of those bun type things, pulled back from her face and she was wearing another one of those high necked blouses and sensible skirts she loved so much. The more he saw her in them, the more he imagined what she’d look like when he was sliding it up and over her hips, freeing her long red hair from the constraints of her bun.

  He realized he was staring at her, not listening when her expression turned from surprise to expectant, waiting for him to answer her.

  “Sorry, didn’t catch that, doll,” he looked sheepish.

  She smiled at him shyly and then repeated, “I just said hello and asked what you’re doing here.” Larry came over with two large white bags and deposited them on the counter in front of West.

  “There ya go, partner, got it all ready for you,” he told him. “Just got to grab your soft drinks.”

  “Lunch for the boys,” he commented to Aubrey, catching the curious look on her face. “My turn to buy and those lazy pricks made me do the run to pick it up too.”

  His words startled a giggle out of her and he grinned in response. Her laugh was fucking adorable. He wanted to hear it right before he made her moan out his name in pleasure. He’d push open that prim little blouse and bury his face right between those perfect tits—

  “West?” his daydream was interrupted by a familiar voice calling his name. Looking to the woman seated beside Aubrey, he was shocked.

  “Nora? What are you doing here?” Belatedly, he realized the two children he’d spotted when he entered the diner were Caleb and Hope, her biological son and the daughter she and Gabe Thornton had adopted after they rescued her from a fate that shouldn’t even be repeated.

  “Nice to see you too,” she laughed. “Just in town for a few days visiting Aubs and Autumn,” she explained. “I figured you were too ah, preoccupied to notice me here.” She raised her eyebrows at him, letting him know she knew exactly where his mind was in regards to Aubrey. A lesser man might have blushed at being caught red-handed so-to-speak, but West brushed it off.

  West crouched down and ruffled Caleb’s dark brown hair. “Hey, little man. You sure are getting big. I hope you’re taking good care of your little sister here.” Caleb ignored him and clapped his hands. Pointing at West’s jacket, he looked up at his mother.

  “Fire truck! Fire truck!” he said happily. Nora smiled back, lifting him onto her lap.

  “Yes, Caleb. West is a firefighter. Maybe we’ll go and see the trucks one day before we go home.”

  “Sure thing, little man. Anytime.” He grinned at Hope before turning his attention back to Nora. “So is Gabe with you?” He looked around the diner. “Or Theo?” Theo Barrington had been a good buddy of his for years. They’d met on a retreat West and his brother Bennett had signed up to participate in. Bennett had talked him into it, claiming that a military boot camp would make them the bad asses of the fire house. Theo was in charge of kicking their butts into shape and the three had formed a fast friendship. To the outside world, he’d seemed like a cocky, smart ass guy. But West had recognized the darkness shimmering below the surface of the mask he wore in his day to day life. There were secrets in Theo’s closet, West was sure of it, but he’d never had the opportunity to question him about what those were.

  “It’s just us. And Greta,” Nora replied, a hint of sadness in her tone. West narrowed his eyes. There was more to the story there, but he didn’t push.

  “Well, ladies. I better get this food back or they’ll have my head on a stick.” He winked at Aubrey, enjoying seeing the warm blush creep across her cheeks. Every reaction from her was so innocent, so damn pure. He wanted to own that blush, to ravish her until she peeled away her reservations and unleashed the passion he’d bet was lying dormant under her prim and proper exterior.

  The bell above the door chimed as it swung open and Autumn sauntered in. She was wearing a low cut black top and skinny jeans, her red hair twisted into a braid that hung over her left shoulder. Big sunglasses sat on top of her head. More than one glance turned her way, she had that presence about her that made people stop and stare.

  Hurrying up to the counter she barely spared him a glance as she beelined for her sister.

  “There’s been another fucking murder!” she burst out, slapping a hand over her mouth when Aubrey glared at her and pointed to the kids.

  “Fuck, sorry. Oh, shit. Dammit. Oh Jesus Christ, just listen to me,” she demanded. “They discovered another body just a little while ago. You know out past old man Conroy’s place? Jill told me in the coffee shop that officials just were called out there. Apparently some dude was burned alive in a box. Can you fucking believe that? In a box!” She ignored her sister’s harsh look at her language and continued on.

  “I’m telling you, this is getting out of control. They need to do something.” Looking over her shoulder at West, she speared him to the spot with a pointed look. “Well? Do you have anything you can tell us about who this lunatic is?”

  West headed back to Aubrey’s side and placed the white paper bags back on the counter. Letting his hand rest on Aubrey’s shoulder, he gave it a gentle squeeze. The look of fear and horror that had flashed in her bright green eyes when Autumn broke the news concerned him. Nora was sitting silent, keeping the kids occupied with straws and broken bits of crayon while the scene unfolded.

  “I don’t. But I’ll go back to the station now and see what I can find out. The Fire Marshall is probably already out there, but they may need a couple of extra hands depending on what this asshole left behind for us.” West wasn’t looking forward to witnessing such a heinous act, but if what Autumn said was true; she was right. The situation was out of control and they were going to need some help.

  Aubrey looked up at him, her eyes meeting his and he felt something move through him. A piece of his closed off heart snapped open, giving her access to a part of him he’d made permanently unavailable. She looked so vulnerable. He’d do what he could to help put this fucker away and avoid having to see that look of fear in her eyes again. Breaking their connection, he grabbed the bags from the counter and once again headed for the diner’s exit.

  “Ladies, please be careful and call me if you need anything. If anything seems suspicious call the police right away. If you can’t get in touch with them—call me. I mean it,” he said sternly. Leaving them all on their own didn’t sit well with him but he had no choice. The women called out a goodbye and he left. Pulling out of the parking lot, he passed several cruisers, cherries spinning on their way down the main street.

  He’d have another talk with the Chief and let him know he wanted to be more involved in the investigation. He wasn’t a licensed Fire Marshall but he had an eye for crime scenes and could be of some assistance, even in an unofficial way. It was time they all took a more active role in stopping this prick. Seeing that look of terror on Aubrey’s face was not something he wanted to repeat.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mila Stevenson studied her chipped manicure in annoyance. Why was it so hard to find good help these days? Letting out an aggravated sigh, she made a mental note to fire her personal assistant, it was her fault for hiring the useless woman that was in charge of spoiling Mila with her weekly mani and pedi’s. They would both be looking for new sources of employment before the day was over.

  A stuffed toy flew by her head from the backseat, landing in the cup holder of her black Range Rover. Looking in the rear view mirror, she locked eyes with her two year-old son, who was desperately trying to hold in a giggle behind his chubby little fingers.

  When he grinned at her like that, even from behind his hands, his smile reminded her s
o much of his father. “Dane,” she scolded him. “Do not throw things at your Mommy.” Her little boy giggled and clapped his hands, his bright blue eyes sparkling with glee at the thought of a new game. With a sigh, she pulled her eyes back to the road as she took the turn that would lead her to their destination.

  She’d been forced to assume a new identity two years earlier when her plans had been ruined and her operation shut down. Fury simmered in her veins when she recalled how she’d barely made it out of Durham Heights in one piece. That little bitch, Gwyn, had spoiled all her carefully laid out plans. Stolen Brady out from under her nose and destroyed the future she had wanted. She’d barely given a thought to Jed, the fact that he’d lost his life didn’t faze her in the slightest. He’d simply been a means to an end, a pawn in her master plan.

  Fleeing Durham Heights with only the clothes on her back had infuriated her. She was a woman used to the finer things in life and having to rely on her feminine wiles to catch a lift out of town and stay in flea infested motels only further fueled the fire of her wrath. Now, two years later, she was back in business and ready to seek her revenge on those that wronged her. Things had already been set in motion, a fact that brought her an insurmountable amount of pleasure. The small town of Stockton Crossing was currently baffled by the killer they’d dubbed the Matchstick Man, and she couldn’t be more pleased with the results his reign of terror were bringing in. It wouldn’t be long until each phase of her plan fell into place and those responsible for obliterating her happy ending, would soon lose all hope of having theirs.

  Her Range Rover came to a stop outside a large, gray concrete warehouse. It had taken far too long and far too much money to secure this place. The idiot old man that owned it had actually proved to have a head on his shoulders for business, perhaps that’s how his canning factory had stayed open as long as it had. Several negotiations and one hundred thousand dollars later, the warehouse was hers. Getting out of the car, she stretched for a moment before opening the back door to retrieve Dane from his car seat.

  “Out you come,” she told him. A few steps away from the car, she stopped and went back. Grabbing his toy from the front seat, she handed it to him and re-locked the car doors. The last thing she needed was a temper tantrum while she reviewed the operations.

  She stepped up to the steel door and punched in the access code, turning the handle when the light flashed green. Cool air and the faint smell of smoke met her as she looked around the large open space. It’d been completely gutted, as per her instructions, looking like nothing more than an abandoned building. Old man Becker should be happily vacationing on a beach somewhere with all of his money so he wouldn’t be around to question the ‘Foreclosure’ sign she’d ordered hung on the front of the building. To the casual passerby, this place would look like it’d just been left to sit empty, which was exactly the way Mila wanted it to appear.

  Dane squirmed in her arms, eager to get down and explore. Mila complied, setting him on his feet. “Behave,” she warned him, her tone brisk. He took off in a little run, anxious to see everything at once. Watching him for a few seconds to be sure he didn’t get into any mischief, she let her own gaze dance around the warehouse, taking things in.

  Noting the chains hanging from the ceiling, the fireplace in the far corner and sparse furniture, she nodded to herself, pleased to see her instructions had been carried out. A noise to her right alerted her to someone’s presence and she glanced over her shoulder, taking in the figure clad all in black standing there watching her.

  “You’re late.” She told him, turning her attention back to her son. Dane came running towards her at full speed, his little legs pumping fast.

  “Dane, slow down. You’re going to—” she broke off as he tripped over his feet and face planted hard on the concrete floor. “Fall.” With an exaggerated sigh, she closed the gap between them and bent down, watching his bottom lip quiver as he lifted his head from the floor. A tiny trickle of blood dripped from his mouth and tears filled his eyes.

  “Dane. You are not a baby, you will not cry over this. Mommy told you to behave, this is what happens when you don’t follow the instructions,” she lectured. Removing a tissue from her purse, she wiped the blood away.

  “Pick yourself up and I don’t want to see one of those tears escape, you understand? You may go over there with your toy and play quietly.” She pointed to a chair a few feet away. Dane took the toy and with his lips still trembling as he fought to hold in his tears, he obeyed his mother. Once he was seated and playing, Mila turned back to the newcomer.

  “Well? Did you pick up what I asked for?” She raised her brows as she waited for him to reply. She already knew the answer would be yes, he knew better than to not follow through on a direct order, but she wanted to hear the words.

  “I did. It’s through there,” he said, pointing towards a door a few yards away. Mila nodded, pleased.

  “Stay here with my son. I need to inspect the merchandise.” Without a backward glance, she headed for the door to what she assumed used to be old man Becker’s office. Half of the door was a glass window, covered with thin blinds that were drawn closed. She opened the door and stepped inside, closing it firmly behind her.

  In the corner, tied to a chair was a young girl, probably no more than twenty. Her black curly hair was in disarray around her face, likely from thrashing back and forth on the chair, her eyes blindfolded and her mouth taped shut with thick duct tape. She quivered in the chair, she’d obviously heard the door open and close and had no idea who was in the room with her. Mila could imagine such a thing would be petrifying and the thought made her pulse jump and her blood run thick with excitement.

  Approaching slowly, she noticed the blood on the girl’s face and the multiple burn holes spread all over her body. Her clothes were in tatters where the flame had touched her and those parts of her skin weren’t in any better shape. The top layer had been stripped away, leaving the pink marred flesh exposed. “Goddammit!” she burst out, furious. “He was told not to touch you.” Furious at being disobeyed, Mila struck out. Her fist caught the girl on the cheek, snapping her head back. She was the only target close enough to feel her wrath. The girl whimpered and struggled, trying to beg behind the tape.

  Heaving out a breath, Mila ran a hand through her own dark hair and pulled it over her shoulder to fiddle with the soft ends in an attempt to calm down. Killing her quickly would serve no purpose, she needed to relish in her work. It had been far too long and if her blood lust wasn’t satisfied, she would go crazy. An added bonus was the message it would send to the town, changing up the MO would stump and frustrate them and that’s exactly what she wanted.

  She grabbed the girl by the hair and straightened her up in the chair, removing the blindfold and looking deep into her eyes. “Look, just relax. There’s no getting out of here, so don’t do anything to make me angry or it’s going to be a hell of a lot worse on you.” She shoved her head back, wiping her hands on her pant leg. Ugh, sweaty hair.

  The office was small, not many changes had been made since they’d taken over the building. There was a large oak desk that faced a window that overlooked the entire warehouse, the most logical conclusion being that Becker must have supervised his workers from that spot. There was another small door at the back of the room and from the telltale sound of a toilet flushing, Mila deduced it was the bathroom. The door opened after a few beats and another man emerged, also dressed head to toe in black with a ski-mask firmly in place.

  “There you are,” Mila huffed. She gestured to the girl. “How did you let him get so out of hand? I made it very clear this merchandise for my use and my use only. I thought you understood how this all worked.”

  “Look, Mila, I tried. But that is one fucked up motherfucker and there was no way I was getting in between him and his sick bag of tricks. I did what I could to restrain him and that’s why this bitch is still alive. So be thankful for that and you can take the rest of this shit up with him,” h
e shot back, not taking any crap from her.

  Mila sighed, fed up. These two were going to be the death of her, but they’d proven their worth in more ways than one over the past two years. “Give it to me,” she demanded, holding out her hand expectantly.

  He moved to obey and drawing the machete from the back of his pants, placed it carefully in her outstretched hand. Mila moved towards the woman and used the tip of the blade to slice open her shirt, exposing her pink lace bra.

  “I’m going to take my time with you, dear. I hope you understand. It’s been quite some time since I’ve been able to satisfy these particular…urges, if you will,” she explained. She turned her head back to the man.

  “Take the tape off her mouth, let the poor girl at least speak.” The man stepped forward and ripped the tape from the girls’ mouth in one quick swipe. The second her lips were free she let out a bone-chilling scream and thrashed harder in her chair.

  “Let me go, let me go, LET ME GO!” she screamed. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she sobbed and yelled, continuously pleading for her freedom, for her life. She glared at the man in the room, he had seemed so kind, so gentle. He’d fucking tricked her and now she was trapped; trapped in the hands of three fucking psychopaths.

  Mila used one hand to cup the girls’ breast through her bra, pinching and twisting her nipple. “You’re quite the beauty aren’t you? Tell me, what’s your name?” she asked, switching her attention to her other breast.

  “Lee-Leanne,” the girl stammered, disgusted at Mila’s touch. No sooner had she uttered the words than Mila brought the machete down across her stomach in a clean, smooth strike. Red blood appeared instantly in a straight line, running down her, pooling in her belly button and sinking below the waist band of her jeans.