God of Wrath (Legacy of Gods #3) by Rina Kent

Jeremy killed him. No doubt about it. He sliced his throat open, left him spasming on the floor and then took me to the hospital.

Ilya or one of his guards probably took care of the corpse and the cleaning, because Annika told me they found nothing in the shelter, and the surveillance camera footage was erased.

Despite knowing that Jeremy is the type of unhinged to send people to the A&E and prison, I thought I would feel disgusted that he killed someone.

I’m not.

Not in the slightest.

Zayn was a serial rapist, even worse than Jonah, and he hurt so many other girls aside from me—girls who probably have it harder than me because they don’t remember. I can’t imagine the pain they went through if they woke up and found out they’d been raped.

People like him don’t deserve human rights or the regulated justice system. They deserve brutal execution that only someone like Jeremy would deliver.

I’ve spent three days in the hospital. They’re keeping me under surveillance in case of a concussion since my head hit the floor, and I’ll probably leave tomorrow.

Jeremy hasn’t come to my room at all during these three days.

Ilya did once. I asked him how Jeremy knew I was at the shelter, and he bluntly said that they have a tracker on my phone and that was the last location it sent them before it was turned off.

I wasn’t even surprised. There were often instances in the past when Jeremy found me without having to call me.

When I keep staring at the door, Annika says Jeremy’s always outside. Not once has he come into my room, and I doubt that has to do with the fact that Papa is constantly by my side.

At times, I think it’s a good thing that he’s not here. At least this way, I can gather my thoughts and process the pain. Other times, I’m angry at him for not wanting to see me.

And I’ve had enough of this stupid in-between.

So tonight, after Ava and Mum fall asleep beside me, I sneak out of the room and quietly close the door behind me.

“What are you doing out here? Go back inside.”

My spine jerks at the very familiar rough voice, and I carefully turn around to be crushed by Jeremy’s handsome looks.

He’s wearing jeans and a black T-shirt that tightens around his muscular biceps. His hair is a mess, and his face looks tired, but his gray eyes are as dark and intense as ever.

He’s really right by the door, where Papa totally sees him whenever he goes in and out of my room.

And that pisses me off even more.

I cross my arms over my chest. “If you’re here, why haven’t you visited?”

A purse of his lips, a tightening of his jaw, a stroke of his finger against his thigh. “I thought you might need some time.”

“Some time for what? Oh, right, you let me go, didn’t you? You told me to run and never come back. Right before I was assaulted.”

He takes a step toward me, and I can feel my insides crumbling and smashing on the ground. “Cecily…”

I hold up a hand. “Don’t come any closer.”

Jeremy stops dead in his tracks, his hand balling into a fist by his side before he forces it open. The hall's silence beats between us like another being for several long seconds, nearly suffocating us.

I mean to organize my thoughts before I say them, but everything is so raw that it’s impossible to make sense of the chaos. So I let it all out. Emotions, desperation, and pain.

Everything.

“Do you have any idea how much you hurt me that night? How much you stomped all over my feelings as if they meant nothing?”

“I—”

“No, don’t talk. Right now, you’ll listen. I told you time and again that I’m over my crush on Landon. In fact, I remember saying that I realized it wasn’t even a crush in the first place and that he didn’t matter.”

“You called his name,” he says in a clipped tone.

“What?”

“That first night I fucked you on the deck, you called me by his name.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I know what I fucking heard, Cecily.”

“And I know what I was fucking thinking!” I take a few breaths, then speak in a more composed tone. “I was going to say that he didn’t matter at that moment. In fact, that’s when I realized my crush on him was shallow. I never chose him over you, Jeremy. And except for that foolish mistake at the initiation, I never helped him. You can choose to believe me or not, but I’ve regretted spying for him every day since. I thought we were at a point in our relationship where we didn’t keep secrets from each other, which is why I told you about that incident when I could’ve chosen not to. I wanted to start with a clean slate with you, tell you everything, and do whatever it would take to gain your trust. I was wrong. While I didn’t expect you to forgive me immediately, I didn’t expect you to disrespect me and ridicule my feelings.”

He slowly closes his eyes, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was in pain. But that’s only me projecting my feelings and principles onto an unfeeling man.

I’m crying again, tears streaming down my cheeks and blurring my vision until he becomes distorted lines and shadows.

When he opens his eyes again, they’re clearer and almost remorseful. “I’m sorry. I was in pain thinking you’d never choose me, and I took it out on you.”