After I Got Out, He Begged Me to Keep Him

The iron gate slammed shut behind me. Clang! The grating roar sounded like a careless, mocking period placed at the end of my year in prison. I was released from prison. A year ago, I drove a paring knife clean through my childhood sweetheart, Lucian Blackwell. Because he wanted to move overseas. Because he wanted to leave me. I loved him. I loved him so much I wanted to chop him into pieces and swallow him spoonful by spoonful, bones and all. That way, he would belong to me forever. During the 365 days I spent in prison, not a single day passed without me thinking of him. I thought about the way his face had gone pale as he stared at me in disbelief. I thought about the way he had clutched his wound while blood poured through his fingers. The feeling of destroying the thing I loved with my own hands had thrilled me until my whole body trembled. Now, I was out. The wind in Blackridge was as cold as a blade. It cut across my face until it hurt. But every drop of blood in my body was boiling. I hailed a cab. When I spoke, my voice came out hoarse, rough as gravel. "Cresthill Estates." The driver studied me through the rearview mirror. The contempt and disgust in his eyes weren't hidden at all. I didn't care. Only one thought remained in my mind. I was going to kick down that gilded front door of his. I was going to fasten the thickest dog leash around his neck and break every proud bone in his body. I was going to make him look at me, think of me, and see no one but me. If he dared to resist, I would kill him again. Then I would die with him. After all, I, Evelyn Mercer, had been born a hopeless madwoman. My parents had given up on me long ago. They called me the shame of the Mercer family, a monster they could never tame. There was nothing in this world I cared about. Except Lucian.