“I know exactly what it is, Caydence. I also know that I’m not going to prison for it,” I confidently state.
“You can’t … just think about this, Devon.”
“I thought about it the whole time you were in bed healing from what he did to you.”
“And this is what you came up with?”
“I thought you’d like it. Isn’t that what you read in all those dark romance books of yours?” I ask her now. She looks at me, confused about how to respond to that. I know what she reads, and I’m doing nothing more than acting out what they do.
“Those are books, Devon. Fiction. Not real!” She yells at me.
“And yet you love them. You love the idea of the man killing for his woman. That’s no different than what I’m doing now,” I tell her.
“Are you kidding me? It’s not real! This … this is … he’s really here, Devon! You’ll go to jail.”
“I really wish you’d stop saying that. I’m not going anywhere,” I repeat.
“That’s how real life works, Devon. You go to jail for murder!”
“Come on, Caydence. Just calm down with the murder stuff, okay? He hurt you, and I’m going to hurt him. That’s it.” She covers her mouth yet again and looks as if she might be sick.
“I’ll be an accomplice. I don’t want to go to jail, Devon,” she cries now. I laugh. The fact that she thinks I would let anyone touch her is beyond funny. I wouldn’t let this bastard get away with hurting her, and she thinks I would let them take her to jail? How wrong she is about me.
“You aren’t going to jail. No one is going to jail.”
“So you’ll let him go?” she asks through her tears.
“I didn’t say that either.”
“Devon!”
“Caydence, come on. He hurt you. He could have killed you,” I remind her once again.
“But he didn’t. I’m fine,” she argues.
“What if you didn’t wake up? Huh? What was I supposed to do then?”
“I’m fine, Devon. Look at me,” she exclaims, throwing her arms out to the sides. I know she doesn’t want this to happen, but it’s happening anyway.
“You don’t have to look when I do it.”
“What?”
“You don’t have to look when I kill him. That might be too much for you anyway.”
“Are you serious? Devon, please. Don’t do this,” she begs as tears slide down her perfect cheeks.
“He could have killed you, Caydence. In fact, if I let him go, he’ll just do it again. Do you want that on your conscience when he does kill someone?” I’m trying my best to reason with her, but she isn’t getting it at all.
“Let him go,” she insists. I walk over and stand behind him, lifting his head by his hair and pulling the knife from my pocket. I press it against his throat as her eyes widen.
“Devon, please.”
“Don’t beg. Not now.” I drag the blade across his throat, listening as he gags and then falls to the floor. Caydence screams, covering her mouth as she clenches her eyes shut. I toss the knife onto the desk and walk toward her. When I’m close enough, I grab her and pull her into my arms. She tries to push me away, but I don’t let her. I keep her held close as she cries into my chest.
“You have to understand, I couldn’t let him live,” I tell her as she sobs into my chest.
I’ve done it. I’ve broken my little angel’s wings. I’ve ruined her pretty little heart by doing this in front of her, but she has to know there are no lengths I wouldn’t go to for her. Anyone who ever hurt her is going to pay for it, by my hand.
I keep her tucked into me, just holding her until her body becomes too heavy for even her to hold up. She’s all cried out over this, and that’s when I lift her in my arms and carry her out of the office. Her body is slumped against me as we ride the elevator down to the main floor, and I inform Sal that he needs to clean up the mess. He nods his head in acknowledgment and gets on his phone to make the calls as I carry her out to the car.
I sit her in the seat and buckle her in before I get in and drive her home. Once we arrive, I lift her once again, carrying her inside and placing her in her bed. She’s cried herself out, and that’s all my fault, but that isn’t the end of my killing just yet.