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He gripped her by the outside of the arms. “Wait right here.”

He had to rip himself away from the spot before he drove himself over the side of the embankment.

Flying down a worn trail where people normally hiked. Winding into the thicket and searching through the mess of branches and brush.

He stalled out when he found the body lying at the bottom of the rutted, cliffy hill. Tangled with branches.

The little prick Elena had been sneaking out to meet was covered in blood. Limbs at odd angles. His fucking pants down around his thighs with his cock hanging out.

Chest impaled by a thick, splintered branch.

“Fuck,” he rasped.

He felt sick. Enraged. Dread sinking all the way through him.

No doubt, Elena would never be the same. Scarred by this pathetic waste of space.

Then he turned and rushed back up the hill.

Elena was fumbling around. Sobbing as she cried, “I killed him. Oh, God, I killed him.”

Trevan took her by the outside of the arms, dipped down to get into her face, and made the choice to save her the guilt. He had plenty of that, anyway.

“No, Elena, you didn’t. You didn’t. I did. He hurt you, and I couldn’t allow him to continue breathing.”

Because he knew he would always hold her burden. Stand for her. Protect her. Kill for her.

That.

That was what he was made to do.

And he deserved nothing more.

SEVENTY-THREE

ELENA

“They said he threw himself over that cliff. He wouldn’t. I know he wouldn’t. And I know you were with him. I saw you the day I picked him up at that autobody shop after he got into that car accident. Saw you flirting with him. He told me you two were together. I know you were with him. I know it.”

Penny’s voice shifted between vitriol and an appeal.

“Penny, please.” Grief streaked as memories of that time whirled through my mind. Tears blurred my eyes, and I protectively curled my arms around my stomach. I nearly bent in two as I whispered, “He hurt me.”

He’d hurt me. Had taken me when I’d tried to beg him not to. Refusing my words and ignoring the plea of my body.

Not to mention the rage that had come after when I tried to break up with him.

I could see that she knew exactly what I meant.

Heard the implication.

Her jaw trembled and her head frantically shook. “No. There’s no way he would do that.”

Though her arm quivered and bounced as she pointed the gun at me.

“He was my son.” The words were mashed and mangled.

“I know, Penny. I know. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, put the gun down and we’ll talk, okay? I’ll tell you everything that happened.”