Cellar Door

and the sole proprietor of Phiser now that her husband is dead.”

This deserves a slow clap. Instead, in reward, I give her another piece of the puzzle. “With Keller out of the picture, someone else will take his place. They probably already have. It won’t stop, Makenna. Not until Jennifer Myer is stopped. It’s taken me three years to get here.”

She grips the hem of her shirt, a tremble rolls through her petite body. “A woman is doing this. A woman…is hurting these girls. Why? How?”

The answer is always simple. “Money.”

“Is that why Hudson was involved? For money?”

I sink my hands into my pockets. My fingers touch Jules’ necklace. “What do you think?”

“After Hudson was gone, it took six months for them to find me. I didn’t exist to these people before. I thought…maybe Hudson had protected me, sheltered me from them. But that wasn’t it, was it?”

She’s getting agitated, pacing faster. Her socked feet pad the slab, back and forth. I put those socks on her feet, to keep her warm. The thought slaps me with a mocking backhand.

“He was ten years older than me.” She laughs manically. “Ten years. God, I was a toy, a plaything. His side piece when he needed a fix, or to curb his…deviant cravings.” She closes her eyes. “They didn’t know about me, because I was his secret. And when I started snooping around Myer, I gave myself away. Jennifer looked into me, found out who I was, and made the connection. She hired me, and I went willingly to my own death.” She releases her shirt. “I did this to myself.”

As she stalks closer, an internal alarm sounds within me.

Loose waves tangle her damp hair, matching the wild gleam in her eyes. She’s fearless as she approaches me. I let her get close before I put my hands up to stop her. I hold her shoulders, keeping her at a safe distance.

She places her hand on my chest, then slides it down, a leisure descent that makes my muscles tighten. I suck in a quick breath at the feel of her intimate touch. “Makenna…”

The warning in my tone doesn’t stop her. She reaches the waistband of my jeans, her fingers dipping just beneath, before she digs her hand into my pocket. I’m still gripping her shoulders as she brings out the necklace.

“This is my proof, isn’t it?” Her voice cracks. “The proof Hudson wasn’t in it just for money. He did sinister things, then he made me wear his trophy.”

I release a bated breath. “Yes.”

She holds the necklace up so that the charm sways. “How old do I look to you?” When I don’t respond, she adds, “Without makeup, seventeen? Sixteen maybe? I’m petite. Only five-one. I’ve always looked younger. How old was your sister?”

I swallow down the burning ache. “Sixteen.”

Her gaze scans my features searchingly. “I was a virgin when I met him,” she confesses.

Christ. “Makenna, stop.”

She shakes her head. “I was. I was untouched and pure. Apparently, how he liked them. That’s probably what attracted him at first. But then…I could tell he was losing interest. It’s something every couple goes through, or so I read online. But it wasn’t a normal problem, was it? A healthy couple issue. My tits.” She grabs her breasts and gives them a hard squeeze. “They got bigger. My mom, before she killed herself, said that I was going to be a late bloomer like her.” She laughs, the sound hollow, painful. “But that’s what changed. I didn’t look like a little girl anymore.”

She presses her body against me, stoking the embers, and every cell in my body wars against touching her in this state. I don’t move, allowing her to do what she needs. “But you like my tits,” she says. “I turn you on. Women can tell when a man wants them. The little girl thing doesn’t do it for you, but the captive thing?” She smiles. “Yeah. That does it for you. The man in control, with the power.”

As her hand snakes up my arm, I grab her wrist. Enough. “You need sleep.”

Her hand balls into a fist, the necklace chain laced between her fingers. “You think you’re different than them, that you’re a different kind of monster. You’re not. You’re just like them, Luke. Easton. Whatever you want to be called. They use girls…and you planned to use me.”

I take the necklace out of her hand before I push her wrists between us. “I do what I have to,” I admit.

She nods slowly. “That’s why you kept me. Instead of disposing of the inconvenience, after you figured out that I was a mark, that I was already dead”—she laughs humorlessly—“you knew you could use me.”

I don’t deny it. I am that monster. But it was more than that—more than dangling bait at Jennifer Myer. “I needed to know what it felt like to lock a woman in a cellar,” I say. “To hear her cry, plead for mercy. Beg to be released. I needed to know that I wouldn’t break.”

Her eyebrows draw together. “This place wasn’t meant for you,” she whispers. “That’s what you said when you brought me here. I heard you.”

I can’t let go of her. There’s nothing more to be said, and I should leave. But I can’t let her go.

“I’m still here,” she says, tilting her head back. “You haven’t used me yet, and I’m still here.” She stretches onto her toes, whispers against my mouth. “I don’t think you want to let go, Luke.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”