Zade
There’s a black SUV in her driveway, parked behind her Camaro.
I force myself to drive up the street at a crawl’s pace, surveying the surroundings, looking for other vehicles parked close by or men lurking in the shadows. When I see no sign of anything out of the ordinary, I pull into an empty spot against the curb, four houses down from Sapphire’s.
My heart’s pounding, and my hands clench the steering wheel so tight my knuckles are white. If Romario has hurt her, he’s going to die the slowest, most painful death possible. I imagine cutting the man apart piece by piece, starting with the least vital pieces… toes and fingers, ears and eyelids. Then I’ll work my way inward, keeping him alive and conscious the whole time with shots of epinephrine.
He’ll beg me for death long before I
