The Confession

“Except your own life.”

Seth shrugged. “At that point, I didn’t care. But resuming the case wasn’t that easy. Tony warned me to back down because the brass was worried about me. They thought I was a loose cannon, and he’d heard whispers they were considering placing me on administrative leave. I cleaned up my act for a bit—on the surface. But really I just took my investigation deeper underground. Gene figured me out, and those same strings he pulled to get me an interview after I passed the detective exam? He pulled them to have me locked out of the cold case. Then he sat me down and told me I was on a suicide path. And since my father wasn’t there to stop me, he would. He reminded me that my mother couldn’t handle losing me, too. My captain absolutely ripped me a new one. Everywhere I turned, the people around me became roadblocks. They meant well, but I wasn’t giving up. This killer had taken everything from me. And goddamn it, I was going to have revenge.”

Horror filled Heavenly. Had he gone insane? Maybe so. Grief could do that to a person. She knew that firsthand.

“What did you do?” Beck asked.

“Eventually? I quit. I hung up my badge, walked away from everyone in my life—my mother and brothers, my friends, even Graffiti—and I dedicated my life to getting even.” Seth hung his head, then turned once more to stare sightlessly out at the pool. “What happened next was…ugly.

“I started prowling New York’s seedy underbelly until I made the right connections. From there, I greased the right palms and did the right favors until I was allowed to ask the right people the right questions. Finally, I did a few favors for someone I was never supposed to know, much less exchange intel with. He gave me the name I wanted. I went to the asshole’s seedy apartment deep in South Bronx.” He glanced over his shoulder at them. “In case you don’t know, if you can’t take care of yourself, you should never go to that neighborhood. I found the son of a bitch home alone, and I cuffed him to a chair in his dirty-ass kitchen. I pressed my gun to his forehead and forced him to tell me exactly how he’d rigged the explosive in my wife’s car. He babbled. He apologized. He claimed he had no malice against me; he merely wanted to stop me from exposing him as the killer in the cold case. After that, he started crying and begging. But he wouldn’t tell me anything else and his usefulness was at an end. So I blew out his brains, walked away from his apartment, showered, and waited for the sun to rise. Then I called my mother for the first time in months. She honestly hadn’t known whether I was dead or alive. I went to see her, and we had breakfast. I apologized but refused to answer questions. She still doesn’t know what happened to this day.”

Heavenly covered her mouth in shock. What should she say? Do? Did he want comfort? After he’d just confessed to killing another man in cold blood, could she even give it to him?

On some level, she’d always known he was capable of doing whatever he needed to protect those he loved. After all, he’d knocked Pike out with one punch after he’d come on to her a few months ago. But he’d been defending her. Heavenly hadn’t realized he would murder—become the very thing he’d once hunted and jailed—for revenge. She hadn’t believed him capable of that.

Seth scrubbed a hand down his face and spoke into the silence. “The following week, I got my PI license and hung out my shingle. Everything stayed static for years.” He finally turned to her, his face closed tight, his eyes carefully blank. “Until I met you. You brought me back to life.”

Their stares connected. Fused. Her hand trembled as she pulled it from her face. She knew this man intimately—knew his laugh, his kiss, his likes, his habits, the way he flirted, the way he slept, the way he thought.

But after his confession, she had to wonder… How well did she really know him?

Swallowing, Heavenly struggled to find not just the right words but any words. On the one hand, she ached for all he’d lost when this killer had ended his wife and son. Anguish for the time, love, and normalcy that were forever gone panged her. But he’d given up his humanity for vengeance. No, he’d given it away—with glee. With both hands. Without thinking twice. He’d shot a human being with zero remorse. Worse, Heavenly suspected that if he could go back in time, he would still make the same choice.

On some level, that shattered her view of Seth. To her, he’d always been the noble protector. Now she saw his relentless, savage side.

“I’ve shocked you.” His raised brow challenged her to refute him.

Heavenly didn’t want to, but she found herself judging him, just as he’d known she would. The longer she stared, the more his expression felt like a crowbar, trying to force an acceptance and understanding she wasn’t sure when—or if—she could ever give him.

With a shaking hand, she balanced against the table and rose to her feet. Her head swam. Her heart pounded. She was painfully aware that, with every moment, with every movement, Seth watched her.

“Heavenly?” Beck rose beside her, looking wary and worried.

“I-I need a minute.” She couldn’t look at either of them. “Excuse me.”

“Angel!” Seth called after her.

She ignored him, darting into the powder bath at the front of the house before she locked the door with trembling hands. She sucked in giant breaths, closed her eyes, and leaned against the door for support.

One thought burned through her brain over and over: Seth had hunted down a person and killed him without remorse. How was she supposed to feel about that?

On the other hand, he’d killed a man who had marked a woman and infant for death because Seth had sought the truth. A man who had killed before. A man likely to kill again. A man who clearly thought little of human life.

Where did that leave her?

Slowly, she flipped on the bathroom light. The too-bright bulbs beamed in her face. She recoiled, then stared at her image in the mirror. She looked pale and stunned, her eyes shell-shocked and dilated.

On automatic pilot, she turned on the water, then splashed some on her face. The cold jolted her. Some of her shock receded. She had to start thinking. Both Seth and Beck were out there, wondering what was running through her head.

Honestly, Heavenly didn’t know.

What would she have done in Seth’s place, knowing the identity of this horrible, dangerous man? The system had seemingly been willing to sweep his crimes under the rug in favor of solving new and shinier murders. The very people who should have wanted him behind bars had apparently resisted Seth’s attempts to put him there. Should she cast him in the role of villain for having the fortitude to see justice done, despite the fact it hadn’t been legal?

Heavenly still couldn’t answer that.

What if this killer’s victim had been her loved one? Her father, for instance? Would she still condemn Seth for making the perpetrator pay in whatever way he could?

She was less certain of that.