The devil I know

Chapter 4

The night with Luke was everything I had forgotten we could have together—intimate, loving, and full of the tenderness that had once defined our relationship. The dinner date was amazing and also there was a beautiful performance by my favorite band. He ordered all my favorite food. When we reached our bedroom, the atmosphere was charged with a sense of closeness that had been absent for far too long. The soft glow from the moon filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle light across the room. It was at that moment, as we stood facing each other, that I realized how much I had missed this—missed him.

We kissed, slowly at first, as if we were rediscovering each other, then with a growing intensity that neither of us could resist. It had been too long since we’d connected like this, and the love we made that night was filled with a desperate need to bridge the gap that had formed between us. For the first time in what felt like ages, I held him close, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, the warmth of his skin against mine, and I knew, at that moment, how much I still loved him.

But the euphoria of our renewed connection didn’t last long. The next morning, reality came crashing back, as the case that had been haunting me for weeks was suddenly back on my mind.

The investigation had been dropped after the supposed culprit was apprehended. But only a week later, another body was found, the same disturbing pattern repeated. My instincts told me something was wrong, that the true killer was still out there. The discovery of another victim so soon after the case was closed only deepened my suspicions.

Then, the next day, Ema’s father was arrested for trying to steal a car. When we brought him into the station, he denied knowing anything about his daughter’s death. His tears—whether real or fake—didn’t sway me. There was something off, something that didn’t add up. But the case against him was shaky at best, and without more evidence, it was hard to justify keeping him in custody.

A few days later, I was home, enjoying a rare day off. Kelvin and his cousins were playing hide and seek, their laughter echoing through the house. It was a beautiful sound, one that I wished could drown out all the darkness that had seeped into my life. But that peace was shattered when Kelvin came to me with wide eyes, his innocent question sending chills down my spine.

“Mum, why are there pieces of blonde hair in the shed?”

My heart raced as I tried to process his words. The shed was Luke’s space, a place he used for his artwork, or so he had always told me. But now, dread gnawed at the edges of my mind. I hurried outside, my pulse quickening with each step. The shed door creaked open, and I stepped inside, feeling a cold sweat break out across my skin.

The box was already open, probably from Kelvin’s curious exploration. Inside, I found several small plastic bags, each containing a lock of blonde hair. My hands shook as I rummaged through the contents, uncovering a disturbing letter Luke had written to his mother—a woman I had never met, but whose presence loomed large in our lives. In the box, I also found an old photograph of her. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, just like the victims.

My mind was spinning, trying to make sense of the connection. Was this some twisted homage to his mother? A sick way of dealing with the trauma of his past? I was lost in thought when the door creaked open behind me, and I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat.

It was Luke.

LUKE

I came home and I knew it was Isabella’s free day, I was eager to spend the day with her. Getting in, I saw Kelvin and his friends watching TV. I asked for his mum and he told me she was at the shed. I panicked, I ran. The moment I saw Isabella in the shed, I knew that everything was about to come crashing down. My heart pounded as I closed the door behind me, the sound of the bolt sliding into place echoing in the small space. She looked at me with wide eyes, fear and disbelief written all over her face.

“Get away from me,” she shouted, her voice trembling with both anger and fear.

“Isabella, please, let me explain,” I begged, my voice cracking under the weight of my guilt. I had always known this day would come, but I had hoped—prayed—that it wouldn’t be like this.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped, stepping back as if the very sight of me repulsed her. “Luke, open the door.”

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My entire world was crumbling around me, and I knew that if I let her walk out of that shed, it would be the end. “Please, just listen to me,” I pleaded, desperation seeping into my voice. “I didn’t want you to find out like this, but you have to understand—I never wanted to hurt you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she shook her head, unable to look at me. “You’re sick, Luke. You need help.”

“I know,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. “And I promise I’ll get it. But you have to know—this isn’t who I am. I’m not a monster.”

But even as I said the words, I knew they rang hollow. The truth was, I had become the very thing I had always feared. And now, the woman I loved more than anything in the world was looking at me with a mixture of disgust and pity that tore at my soul.

ISABELLA

The man I loved, the father of my child, was a murderer. The realization hit me like a tidal wave, pulling me under into a dark, suffocating abyss. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All I could do was stand there, staring at Luke, trying to reconcile the man I knew with the monster he had just confessed to being. The man standing before me, the man I had loved and trusted, was a killer. I wanted to scream, to run, to get as far away from him as possible. But at the same time, I felt a twisted sense of pity. No one deserves to be abused, especially as a child. The pain he must have endured, the torment that had twisted his mind into something so dark and violent—I could almost understand it. Almost. But understanding didn’t make it any less horrifying.

“I’m so sorry, Isabella,” Luke whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just… I didn’t know how to stop.” His words were like knives, each one cutting deeper into my soul. How could I have been so blind? How could I have shared my life, my bed, with someone capable of such evil? I felt sick to my stomach, the bile rising in my throat as I struggled to keep my composure.

“You should have told me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “You should have trusted me enough to tell me the truth.”

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he replied, his eyes pleading with me to understand. “You and Kelvin are the only good things in my life. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you both.”

But now I was faced with an impossible decision. If I turned him in, I would lose him forever. Kelvin would lose his father, and I would lose the man I had once loved. But if I didn’t, if I kept his secret, I would be betraying everything I stood for as a policewoman. My career, my integrity, my very sense of right and wrong—everything would be compromised.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered, shaking my head as tears streamed down my face. “I can’t be the one to turn you in, but I also can’t live with myself if I don’t. What do I do, Luke? What the hell do I do?”

He reached out to me, his hands trembling as he tried to take mine, but I pulled away, unable to bear his touch. “Please, Isabella,” he begged. “We can figure this out together. I’ll get help. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. Just don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us.”

But deep down, I knew there was no fixing this. Some things were too broken to be repaired, too damaged to be healed. And as much as I wanted to believe that we could somehow find a way through this, I knew that the man I had once loved was gone, replaced by someone I didn’t recognize, someone I couldn’t trust.

“I need time,” I said, my voice hollow. “I need to think.”

Luke nodded, his face etched with sorrow. “I understand,” he whispered. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here, waiting for you, no matter what you decide.”

But as I walked away, I knew that time wasn’t the answer. The choice was already made, even if I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself. There was only one path forward, and it was one that I dreaded with every fiber of my being.

I spent the next few days in a daze, going through the motions of life but feeling utterly disconnected from everything around me. Kelvin’s laughter, once a source of joy, now felt like a cruel reminder of what I was about to destroy. How could I take his father away from him? How could I shatter his world like that?

But how could I not? How could I let a killer walk free, knowing what he had done, knowing that he could do it again? The weight of that responsibility pressed down on me, suffocating me, until I could barely breathe.