Carmen didn’t black out this time, but she wished she had. The pain was so sharp she feared that Ronnie had broken her jaw. At the very least he’d knocked a tooth loose.
Not that the physical pain could come close to the ache of her broken heart.
Cupping her chin, which was covered in blood from her busted lip, Carmen glared at the man who was jerkily pacing from one end of the bay to the other.
“You killed them,” she spat out. “I lost everything because of you.”
Ronnie gave a dismissive wave of his hand, his previous fury replaced by a weird calm.
“I told you, it was their fault,” he said.
Carmen cautiously began to inch her way upright. Her skin prickled with a sense of danger. She didn’t know what was going to happen, but she knew she wasn’t going to like it.
She needed to be up and ready to run.
“If you truly believed you were innocent, then you wouldn’t have gone to such an effort to cover up your crime,” she said, still hoping to prolong whatever fate was awaiting her.
“I didn’t try to cover it up,” he denied, glancing over his shoulder with a scowl. “That was my mother’s decision.”
Carmen leaned heavily against the wall. She was upright, but her knees felt like rubber.
“Ellen knew what you did?” She didn’t bother to hide her surprise.
She’d thought Ellen was devoted to her parents. How could the housekeeper have concealed her son’s cold-blooded murder?
“She came in just a few minutes later,” he said. “She made it look like my father killed your mother and then himself.”
Carmen opened her mouth to protest. Even if Ellen was willing to stage the gruesome scene, why hadn’t the cops realized that something was wrong? They had to have done a thorough investigation, right?
Then her lips snapped together. Lawrence Jacobs.
She didn’t doubt for a second that he would have swooped in the minute it was discovered that his brother and sister-in-law were dead. He would also have ensured the cops wrapped up the case as quickly and with as little fuss as possible. The last thing he wanted was the scandal to continue to dominate the headlines.
“It wasn’t enough that you killed my father? Your mother had to destroy his memory?”
He shrugged. “She wanted to protect me.”
“By letting you walk away from a double murder?”
He abruptly pivoted to glare at her with eyes that were glittering with a dangerous light.
“She didn’t let me get away with it. She sent me to a psychiatric hospital.”
Carmen stiffened, abruptly recalling that he’d told her a bogus story about leaving the estate.
“You lied,” she accused. “You didn’t go to your aunt’s to live.”
“The polite term is that I was institutionalized,” he said in mocking tones. “I was locked away like an animal.”
Did he expect her to feel sorry for him? Not a chance in hell.
“You should have been in prison,” she said. “You murdered my parents.”
With quick, angry strides he was standing directly in front of her. Carmen flinched, but this time he didn’t hit her. Instead, he glared at her, a sneer twisting his lips.
“I should have known you wouldn’t understand. And it doesn’t matter.” He waved his hand, his pale eyes still glowing with a strange light. “I wasted years trying to earn the love of a man who was unworthy. Once I was away from that house, I could finally see clearly.”
“See what clearly?”
“You had all been stifling me.” He held up his fingers, ticking off the people who he believed had stood in his way. “My mother, with her insistence on treating me like a child. Andrew, with his assumption he could control me with his fists. My father, who treated me like a nobody.” His hand dropped and he took a small step back. Carmen released a small breath of relief. Having him so near made her skin crawl with revulsion. “They blinded me to my true worth,” he continued, his voice becoming louder. He clearly was enjoying telling this part of his story. “But at the institute I could finally accept my true self.”
“I’m happy for you.”
He either didn’t notice the edge of sarcasm in her voice or decided he was willing to overlook it.
“I didn’t have to please anyone. And do you know what I learned?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“Absolute honesty.” He held her gaze, a weird smile curling his lips. “I admitted to myself that I didn’t feel guilty for killing my father. Or your mother.”
Fury raced through her. He’d destroyed an entire family. Then he’d been allowed to go to a hospital instead of being thrown in jail. And now he wanted to gloat that he was proud he didn’t even feel guilty.
But even as her lips parted, Carmen was swallowing her impulsive words. Had she heard a door open? The sound had been faint, as if it was far across the warehouse. But it was enough to send a flare of hope through her.
Maybe Griff had managed to find her.
Or maybe it was a security guard. She hadn’t seen one since she’d woken up, but it was possible there was one who was roaming around the huge building.
Either way, she needed to be ready to take advantage of the situation.
She pushed an inch away from the wall, relieved when her knees held her weight. Progress, she decided.
“I thought you claimed you didn’t mean to kill them,” she said, anxious to keep him talking.
The last thing she wanted was for him to realize they weren’t alone and panic. She didn’t have to be psychic to know that wouldn’t be good for her life expectancy.
“I didn’t, but knowing they were dead and that I had the power to end their lives was . . .” Ronnie gave a dramatic pause, a slash of fevered color staining his cheek. “Intoxicating. I wasn’t a nobody. I was a predator.” His smile widened. “A hunter.”
Her mouth went dry. The childish, petulant Ronnie was gone. Standing before her was the animal who’d hunted helpless women and bashed in their heads with a crowbar.
“A hunter?” She took a slow, cautious step to the side.
“Yes. I began to fantasize about pulling the trigger again. Only this time it would be someone who I’d chosen, and spent time stalking before I made my kill.”
He shivered. Not with fear, but with excitement. Was he recalling the pleasure of killing those poor women?
She struggled not to gag.
“That’s awful,” she breathed.
He sent her an annoyed glare. “No, it’s truthful. I’d become who I was meant to be. And even better, I found other people just like me.”
Like him? That was a horrifying thought.
“In the hospital?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not the same one as me, but the Internet made it easy to connect with other potential hunters,” he revealed. “We created a Kill Club.”
Nausea curled through the pit of her stomach. It was . . . insane.
He was insane.
“Kill Club?” She shuddered in horror. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I am.”
“What did your . . .” She struggled to force the words past her stiff lips, taking another step to the side. “Kill Club do?”
“At first we exchanged messages on the best way to choose our victims and the most satisfying way to murder them.” He studied her closely, obviously savoring her horrified expression. “We even created chat rooms where we could role-play how we would lure our prey into our trap.”
She pressed her hand to her stomach, the queasiness continuing to roll through her. What sort of pervert crouched over his computer as he lived out his revolting fantasies? And just how many of them were out there?
“The hospital let you chat with other patients?” she demanded in disbelief.
His features twisted with a smug arrogance. “They didn’t know anything that was going on. As long as I didn’t cause problems they didn’t care what I was doing in the privacy of my room.”
She took another step, sliding along the wall. She didn’t really know where she was trying to go; she just wanted space between her and Ronnie Hyde.