Alison tilts her head, scanning me over like she’s analysing me. “Have you ever heard Ava Max’s, Sweet but Psycho?”

  My nose twitches. “Um, yes, why?”

  “The song reminds me of you. I’m not sure if it’s the red hair, but you have a fire inside you.”

  “Isn’t that about a girl who poisons her cheating ex?”

  Alison laughs. “Not literally about you. Just parts. Although I could see you reacting that way if Drew cheated.”

  I can’t smother my laughter. “I wouldn’t need to. My family would get there first.”

  Drew gulps. “On that note, we are going to go and let you get back to your family.”

  Alison walks over and pulls me into her arms. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  The back of my nose burns. “Thank you.”

  She pulls back, gives me a reassuring smile, before hugging her brother. “Love you.”

  “Love you too,” he tells her before she leaves, her husband pulling her into his arms.

  We head back to the car and I stop at the door, grimacing. “I’m sorry.”

  He presses my back to the door, brushing my hair over my shoulders. “Don’t ever apologise because of them. This has been a long time coming.”

  I grip his waist. “Still, that was a lot.”

  “I’ll get over it,” he tells me, before leaning down, pressing his forehead against mine. “What I won’t ever unhear is that you wanted to die.”

  I tense, my blood freezing. “I couldn’t stop the thoughts.”

  “Promise me,” he croaks out before clearing his throat. “Promise me if you ever feel like that again you’ll come to me.”

  I smile, running my fingers through his hair. “You’ll never have to worry about those thoughts again.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes, because the morning after, I realised I had a lot to live for, even if I didn’t know what that was.”

  “Good,” he breathes out.

  I hike my leg up, running it up his leg. “Now we have the night free, what should we do.”

  His eyes darken as he runs a hand up my thigh, stopping to cup my arse. “We have most nights free.”

  I pout. “But we’re all dressed up.” His muscles tense as I run my finger down his hard abs. “It would be a shame for that to go to waste.”

  His fingers tense on my arse as he leans down, his lips a breath away from mine. “What I have planned doesn’t involve clothes.”

  I grin, glad the disaster of tonight has been somewhat washed away. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yes,” he replies, his voice like silk, rich and dark. “Get in the car.”

  I drop my leg and turn to pull open the door, and before I can get in, Drew pulls me back, running his hands over my stomach. “Thank you.”

  “For what,” I whisper. His breath against the sensitive area under my ear has the tiny hairs standing on edge.

  “For what you said, for how you see me. Thank you.”

  “You never have to thank me for telling the truth.”

  He runs his nose along my neck, a small groan passing through his lips. “No, but I will.”

  He helps me into the car, and before he can shut the door, I see the appreciation on his face. It’s deep, strong, and it makes the back of my throat burn. My words hadn’t just meant something to him, they had meant everything to him.

  And I realise, I’m not the only one who has insecurities. He has them too.

  People see my size and find me intimidating.

  Women are sometimes scared of me.

  I remember him saying those words; how he hated that he couldn’t get them to see him differently. I close my eyes, stopping the tears from flowing. For as long as we are together, whether that is for a day or forever, I promise to make sure he knows how special he is.

  Because he isn’t just my hero, my saviour.

  I swallow deeply as it hits me.

  He’s the man I was searching for.

  He’s the one.

  The love of my life.

  My forever.

  My dream.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  MADISON

  Life.

  It isn’t just the babies birthed or the essence we breathe. It’s all around us. Life is in the air, in the trees, in the weeds that grow in your garden. It’s in your home, in your work, and in those around you.

  For as long as I can remember, the earth has fascinated me. How a flower blossoms from a meagre seed, how fruit and vegetables grow from the ground or from a tree.

  All of it.

  And with each plant, each flower or piece of food, I became more fascinated, wanting to learn everything I could about them. Flowers come first. My aunt Teagan had taken me to the flower shop when I was little and seeing all those vibrant colours come to life, made into bouquets or arrangements, I had to know more. From there, I studied every one of those flowers. Some I remembered, some I didn’t. Either way, they all held meanings or sentiments.

  When Charlotte first admitted about the flowers she had been receiving, my attention to detail screamed at me to find out what they meant and where they had come from. It has been an obsession of mine since that day, and it’s killing me that I can’t find out where these plants have been coming from.

  Hayden turns down the radio that has been playing some crazy rap song. “Are you going to sulk all the way home or are we going to hash this out?”

  “Stop making it sound like you have hours left of the drive. We are going to be back within the next thirty minutes. If these arseholes learned how to drive, we’d have been back way before now.” I honk the horn when another dickhead cuts in front of me, forcing me to put my foot on the break sharply.

  Hayden grabs the dashboard, breathing heavily. “I love my life and I don’t want to die.”

  “I’m not the one driving like a race car wanker.”

  Throwing herself back into the chair, my feisty cousin lets out a breath. “I’m sure we’ll find someone willing to speak to us.”

  She’s on about the flowers again. I’m still searching for the person who purchased them, to no avail.

  “It’s pointless. No one is going to tell us. Maybe they’ll tell the police. I don’t know. It’s the only lead we have on who is doing this.”

  “Landon has gone with Aunt Kayla to visit that last girl.”

  “The one who kept putting it off?” I reply.

  “Yeah. Apparently, she saw the news with his picture and recognised him. She wants to help Charlotte.”

  “Help her how? They can’t stop the police looking at her as a suspect; not now they know who he is. We wanted their help searching for him, or at least to find out his real name. None of us knew he was fucking dead while we were searching for him.”

  She glances down at her phone. “He said it’s the same story as the others and she wasn’t much help with any clues as to who it is. None of them received any flowers after.”

  “Didn’t he say weird shit happened to them after?”

  She nods as I maneuverer the car into the next lane. “Yes. One lost her job. One of them were disowned by their family after a picture of her stripping was revealed. And I’m sure the last girl said she was broken into the week he left her.” I watch as she grips her knees, her breath shuddering. “He did the same thing to each girl. Charming, sweet, and attentive but the minute he got them in that bed, inside them, he turned into a brutal prick. He didn’t stick around after, leaving them lying there, broken and hurt as he hurled abuse at them, saying they were dirty and unclean.”

  “Charlotte said he didn’t do that. He tried to—”

  “Control her,” Hayden interrupts. “With Charlotte, he had a hold on her that I think he didn’t get with the others. I could be wrong but that’s my thought on it. He hurt her, I’m not disputing that, but it wasn’t the same as the others.”

  I clench my fingers around the steering wheel. I can’t imagine what she went through, how she felt. “I know.”

  Both of us cease speaking and I know, like me, she is thinking about Charlotte. Our kind, sweet Charlotte. She is the person who mediates conflict if one of us falls out. She is also the person who has unintentionally caused arguments. Every time one of us pushed her treats on another, we fought about it. And she’s the type of person who thought we were fighting over which one of us got to eat it.

  She hums tunes when things get tense. Heck, she feeds stray animals and some of them aren’t even friendly, yet she’ll smile and coo at them like they are a cute kitten.

  Even with all her kindness, she holds a fieriness inside her, one that only comes out when she is pushed.

  That’s our Charlotte.

  Knowing a monster had her in his grip has us all feeling guilty. We should have done more, should have seen it coming. The males in our life might be overprotective, and we had warned them off, telling them they had been ridiculous. Yes, they went over the top with it at times. What they did to Jaxon, and in turn Lily, had been horrific and none of us wanted to go through that each time we found a partner. But had we been too hard on them? Had they been right to worry? Seeing what Charlotte has gone through… I’m not sure I want to take a chance. The only reason I’m conflicted is because of how happy she is at the moment. She has always been happy but for those months with Scott, she wasn’t herself. She lost weight and questioned everything, even the clothing she wore. Drew brought her out of her shell once again and the bounce in her step, the twinkle in her eyes, it’s stronger and brighter than it ever has been.

  The silence of the car is broken by the ringing of Hayden’s phone. At a quick glance, she’s confused as to who is on the phone. “This is a call extension from work. Why would they be trying to put a caller through to me when I’m not due in today?” she explains before answering, putting the phone on loudspeaker. “Hi, Chrissy. Everything okay?”

  “We have someone on the other line wanting to speak to you. She said it’s important and about the library.”

  I pull over into a vacant space on a side street and stare at the phone.

  “How does she know I’m a relative or that I work at the station?”

  “She saw your picture in the paper and they mentioned the radio station.”

  “Put her through,” Hayden orders gently.

  We both share a look as the voice on the other line comes through. “Hello?”

  “This is Hayden. Can I ask who I am speaking with?”

  “My name is Milly. I’m calling about the library you spoke about in the paper. About the dead body they found.”

  “What do you know of it?” she asks, her voice gentle.

  A forced laugh echoes down the phone. “I know enough to know that what happened to that girl isn’t speculation, that she isn’t the reason for his death.”

  “Do you know who is?”

  “His wife.”

  My brows pinch together and Hayden and I share another look. As far as we have been informed, his wife didn’t even know about his affairs or that he wasn’t at work. According to the officer Charlotte spoke to, his wife is grieving and wants privacy.

  “His wife doesn’t—”

  “She’s unstable. Do not believe a word she says. If he’s dead, he pushed that crazy bitch too far.”

  Hayden lowers her voice, her hands trembling around the phone. “How do you know all of this?”

  “Because the two are a match made in heaven. He hurt my sister. Jade was nineteen, had her whole life ahead of her, and he destroyed her.”

  “Had?”

  “She killed herself. She couldn’t cope with what he had done, what his wife had done.”

  “What happened?” Hayden asks, as I struggle to stop myself from firing questions at her.

  “Jade met Scott Parish whilst studying at school. He was five years older. They hit it off and as months passed, she seemed more and more withdrawn. I went up one day to visit and I found her; her sheets bloody, her body covered in bruises and cuts. I stayed with her until she recovered. She wouldn’t go to the police or seek medical attention. He had her so brainwashed that she blamed herself. Her friends told me they saw it coming but nothing they said to her registered. She would ignore their opinion and advice and they had to watch as he belittled and made her the shell of the person she once was.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hayden whispers. “So sorry he put her through that.”

  “It’s not him who did the worst. It was the wife, Sophia. She showed up during Jade’s class, screaming at her for being a homewrecker. He had been trying to contact Jade for weeks but I kept her from the phone, deleted the messages, and the calls. And his wife must have seen them. I don’t know. The school asked her to leave for the day. She was embarrassed, upset since that was the first time she had found out about the wife.

  “Her depression got worse after that. She was being bullied by people spreading the rumours going around from that incident in class. Sophia didn’t give up terrorising her. She called once to tell me someone put tomato sauce in her bed, and left threatening notes. Men would try to rape her then claim it’s the service she charged for. She’d leave class, and Sophia would be there, watching, taunting. It didn’t matter that Jade had told her she hadn’t spoken to or seen him since that night they slept together, this woman didn’t believe her.

  “I went back up one week, hearing the anguish and depression in her voice. She was so skinny and frail. I’ll never forget that image. I wanted to talk her into coming back home with me. His wife turned up at the house that first night, banging down the door screaming, and I answered. I threatened her; I told her that if she ever came back, I’d go to the police. I went home a week later; my job wouldn’t let have any more paid time off. I shouldn’t have left.”

  “What happened after you left?”

  “Sophia beat the ever-loving crap out of her. Her friends called me and said they were going to take her to the hospital so I got in the car and headed down. I got a call halfway saying my sister had slit her wrists.”

  My hands shake, tears streaming down my cheeks as I listen. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” she chokes out. “I know that isn’t the worst she had done to her. I knew she was keeping things from me and from her friends. But the two of them destroyed her. He deserves to be dead, but she deserves to rot.”

  “We’ve not even been allowed to know who she is. Someone was sending my cousin, Charlotte, flowers the night he hurt her. They’ve continued to send them since, all with threatening poems. But the police seem to believe her story. We don’t even know where she lives or who she is.”

  “I have a picture.”

  Hayden gulps, and her fingers tighten around the phone. “You have a picture?”

  “I can send it to you. I gave it to the police years ago but the image is a little blurry and they never found her. I only knew her first name but when I saw his image in the paper, I knew it was the same couple. I had only met him once and it was over a phone call, but I’ll never forget it.”

  Hayden rattles off her number. “I swear, we will make sure she gets what’s coming to her,” Hayden promises. “Leave your number with my assistant. I’d like to keep in touch if that’s okay with you.”

  “Thank you,” she croaks out.

  “What for?”

  “For believing me. I might not be able to see your face, but I can hear in your voice you want justice for them both.”

  “I want justice for them all,” Hayden declares.

  Milly’s breath hitches. “All?”

  “There have been loads more, but I swear to you, it will never happen again. I really do need to go, but I will call and explain the rest when I get time. I just think the police officer and my cousin need to hear this.”

  “I understand. Thank you for taking my call and listening to me. And I really hope your cousin sorts everything out.”

  “Me too.”

  They say their goodbyes and moments later, her phone dings with a message. I watch as her eyes widen. “So that’s Sophia.”

  I lean over the parking break, and my heart begins to race as I snatch the phone out of her hand. “Oh my God,” I breath.

  “What?”

  “I know that woman.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. Although her hair is a different colour to that blonde.”

  “Who is it? What do you mean?”

  I turn to her, my pulse beating rapidly as I think of what this means. What it means for Charlotte.

  “It means we need to get to Charlotte. It means she’s in danger. She knows this person too.”

  Hayden takes the phone back, her lids squinting at the picture. Her eyes widen as she slowly turns to me. “Fuck.”

  My thoughts exactly.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHARLOTTE

  I twirl around the kitchen, humming along to Katy Perry’s, Roar. Life is so good. The smell of brownies fills the air; love fills the air.

  I still haven’t made up my mind on when to tell him. He told to me to wait until everything has calmed down, and that the stress of the case isn’t hanging over our heads. However, last night, after hours in bed together, I wanted to tell him then. I wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

  I pick Katnip up from the counter, moving her away from the food before she gets a chance to steal it. “Not for you, kitty.”

  Meow.

  She swats at me, trying to play with a strand of my hair, but I tusk, placing her down on the floor. “Nope. You aren’t chewing on my hair either.”

  I have spent hours curling my hair into stronger curls than the thick, bouncy, loose ones they normally are. I tied most of it back from my face in braids, putting those pieces into a bun at the back of my head, leaving the rest to flow down my back. My makeup is already done too. All I have to do is put on some lipstick, throw on my dress, and spray on some perfume. And I am good to go.

  We still have two hours until we need to leave for the wedding, three until it starts, but I was so excited, so full with life, that I couldn’t keep still and wait around. I didn’t need to go into work like Drew did. And I didn’t want to lose track of time by baking first. So I compromised and did my hair and makeup before I began baking. All I’ll have to do once it’s time, is slide on my dress.