“That is a theory for which you have no proof. And now you’ve fucking abducted me and brought me here of all fucking places,” I say, shifting a wild glance over my surroundings before fixing my glare to Hayes. “What are you going to do with me when he doesn’t show up, hmm? Kill me in my childhood home?”

“I know this is hard for you right now, but Jack won’t be able to resist the symmetry. And there are no unnecessary hurdles this time. There’s no red tape. No one to doubt the evidence right in front of us. This time, my plan will not fail.”

My brows feel tight and pinched as I drop my head and press my eyes closed. I know the parts of my story with Jack that Hayes has gotten right. But I also know those he’s gotten wrong.

Jack doesn’t want to stay. To him, I’m not a piece of symmetry he can’t resist. I’m not a prize.

He said it himself: I’m an inconvenience.

Jack has cared as much as he’s able to, but only because I forced him. And that’s probably uncomfortable, even confusing for him. I’ve pushed Jack far beyond his boundaries. The only reason he’s truly stayed is because of the threats I made the night I killed Mason. And now, by giving him the evidence I held onto for so long, I’ve given Jack every reason to leave. Immediately.  

I can only hope that he’s already seized his chance.

None of it changes the way I feel. I know I love Jack Sorensen. As much as it crushes my heart to admit it, I also know Jack will be better off if he takes the chance and runs.

And he’s smart enough to know it too.

“Jack will not come, Mr. Hayes,” I say, shaking my head. A tear slips down my cheek. “He won’t. He has no reason to anymore.”

“He will. You’ve studied predator behavior, Kyrie. You know better than anyone that humans are inherently not that different from beasts. Jack believes he’s at the top of the food chain, and to a man like him, you’re the prized prey in his territory. He will come to force me out of his domain and take back what he feels belongs to him, just like he did the Silent Slayer.”

“No.”

“He’s probably even told you as much, right? That you belong to him? You’re his?”

I can only shake my head, my lips trembling as I press them tight.

I’m not here to claim anyone but you, lille mejer.  

My chin falls to my chest. Tears drop straight down from my open eyes as I blink at my lap. My heart is burning my bones with its furious beats.

“But he’s never told you he loves you, has he. Because he can’t. Jack is a master manipulator and he wants to keep you in his grip.”

“Stop,” I whisper. Even though I already know what he’s saying is true, it still hits my chest like a fiery arrow to hear it from the outside, not just in my own mind. It’s that easy for someone who barely knows me to see what I’ve grappled with for these last weeks. The evidence is that obvious.

Hayes’s hand lays on my shoulder, a hot brand that soaks through my shirt and into my skin. I try to shrug him off, but he doesn’t budge. “Let me go.”

“You’re the Slayer’s only survivor. Do you know how precious that makes you as a prize for someone like Jack?” Hayes leans down, trying to force me to meet his eyes. His hot breath spills over my face, flooding me with the scent of coffee and stale sandwiches. I want to vomit in my lap. “But you have to understand: you are nothing more than a trophy to Jack. He is extremely dangerous, Kyrie. We have to break you away and get you somewhere safe. And we can stop Jack together before he kills anyone else.”

My head lifts only far enough to pin Hayes with my furious, feral glare. “He’s not. Fucking. Coming.”

I twist my arms until they’re rubbed raw and bleeding, the plastic cutting into my wrists as I scream with rage, hoping someone will hear me. I scream until that cloud of darkness descends with a thunderous clap.

“Hush now, don’t scream, baby,” the Slayer whispers in my ear, his cheap cologne wafting through the room, “or I’ll cut out your mama’s tongue.” 

I thrash in my chair, nearly toppling it over until Hayes steadies it in his grip. I’m vaguely aware of his presence, as though it’s behind a curtain upon which my worst nightmares are projected.

“Shh, shh. Quiet now, baby.”

I’m still writhing, still screaming, phantom pain tugging at the edges of my scars when a foreign sound slices through the images and cuts the room into abrupt silence.

Beep. 

Beep. 

Beep. 

“He’s here,” Hayes says.

Something cold presses to my temple. I blink to clear the black haze, glancing up at Hayes where he stands to my left, the barrel of his Glock pistol trained on my head. The Taser is clutched in his other hand. My chest heaves with every breath as I follow the aim of the Taser toward the hallway leading to the lower-level rooms.

“Stop where you are. I have a gun aimed at her head and I will take the shot if I have to,” Hayes says to the dark hallway. There’s no sound, no motion. But I know Hayes must see Jack on the monitor.

Silence.

I glance up but he doesn’t look at me. Hayes hasn’t released the safety on his gun.

“Toss your weapons into the room,” Hayes orders.

“I’m unarmed. Let Dr. Roth go,” Jack replies from the dark. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

“Not good enough.”

“What do you want, I’ll give it to you.”

I shake my head as my breath catches in my throat. “No—”

“Quiet,” Hayes hisses, pressing the muzzle tight against my temple. He directs his voice to the hallway when he says, “A confession.”

There’s another moment of silence, and then Jack appears at the mouth of the corridor, his hands raised.

Jack glances between us. One look that explodes through my heart like shrapnel. The flash of a furrowed brow. The tic in his jaw as his molars press together. A tormented slash of silver in his eyes. He’s desperate.

“Let her go and I’ll show you.”

“No, Jack—”

“It’s all right, elskede,” he says, turning his gaze in my direction with a resigned smile that does nothing to reassure me. When he looks at Hayes, it’s with cold, polished determination in his eyes. “There’s a room. It has everything you want.”

“Where?”

“Let her go and I’ll tell you.”

A huff of a laugh puffs from Hayes’s chest. “Dr. Sorensen, the trouble with your kind—”

Hayes pulls the trigger on the Taser. The leads strike Jack in the chest, and he falls to the sound of crackling electricity and my desolate cry.

“—is that you think you hold all the cards, even when you’re empty-handed.”

Hayes approaches Jack and kills the power for the device. He holsters his Glock to withdraw cable ties from his suit jacket. He starts with Jack’s hands first, then his ankles before checking for weapons, pocketing his phone. Jack is still stunned from the shock when Hayes pulls the two leads from his chest and hauls him to a sitting position against the wall, but his eyes find mine like iron shards to a magnet.

“You were right,” I say as Hayes adjusts his Taser and holsters it at his belt. “You were right about Jack all along.”

Hayes glances over his shoulder at my tear-streaked face before shifting his attention to checking Jack’s cable ties.

My gaze slides to Jack’s when Hayes’s back is turned.

I drop my attention to my lap before Hayes faces me and let my shaking shoulders fall, defeated. “How did I not see it? How could I not know?”

Tears hit my thighs. Measured, steady footsteps approach until a pair of black boots stops in my peripheral vision. A heavy hand lays on my shoulder, and then Hayes crouches into view.

“It’s not your fault, Kyrie.”

I shake my head, pressing my eyes closed. “I’ve tried to be someone new, and I’m still the same girl, trapped in the same nightmare. I’m still Isobel.” When I raise my eyes to Hayes, my look is pleading. “I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.”