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Eyes gleaming with victory lock on me. He’s here.
I’m not sure when my priorities shifted. When protecting Freya became more important to me than catching Maxwell. But the realization tears at my heart. I feel like I’m betraying my mother all over again. And yet I still can’t fucking move.
“Do you realize that at nine-years-old you single-handedly stopped your sister from becoming a serial killer?”
“She hurt you. I–” He swallows. “I don’t even want you in the same state as her, let alone the same room.”
“You’re my asset. You’re supposed to do as you’re told.”
“Did you ever really think that was going to happen?”
“Never.”
We are tied together with rusted chains. Our lives fused with matching scars. Her cuts bleed in time with mine. No-one else knows what we went through. No one else lived it.
I decode the scribbles on the wall, my voice flat as I read the message out loud. “‘She looks like Eli’s mother don’t you think? What a shame you couldn’t save her too’”.
And now he’s gone. Again. Free to keep on killing and killing. And every single death will be on my hands because I failed. Again. I failed to tell anyone when I was a child. I failed to hunt him down after I was free. And now, even with a whole team of FBI agents on my side, I’ve failed again.
Freya is guilty of nothing. After seeing her break down in Maxwell’s basement all I can picture is a seven-year-old her being put through the same horrors over and over again.
“I’m offering you a job as a profiler for the Serial Crimes Unit. You’ll be on Agent Park’s team, your primary case will be to catch Maxwell, but the contract is permanent.”
“Your life is no longer yours to risk,” he says, his words a declaration. “You belong to us and if you ever put yourself in danger like that again we will be right back here until you learn your lesson. Until you understand that your life is worth something. Is worth everything.”
He knows who I’m with and who the guys are. This is a game to him, and if we’re going to catch him, we have to play.
