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The Last Housewife(112)

Author:Ashley Winstead

We stared at each other, Nicole with her gruesome smile, me with my heart pounding, wondering, Dare I?

I’d always known the investigation had an expiration date. I’d known the end would come eventually; that at some point, I would have to drop the pretense and act. Well, the sands were slipping through the hourglass faster and faster. It was time.

I laid my hands on Nicole’s shoulders, and the knowing smile wiped from her face. “You’re right,” I said. “I’m here for you. Because I’ve been where you are. Everything the Paters are doing… They did it to me first.”

She started to scoff, but I cut her off. “I know the Philosopher.”

Her face flooded with surprise. It was a cheap ploy, but I pushed. “I’ve done all of this before, with him. At first it felt thrilling—I’ll admit it—but eventually it got so bad I was either going to get out, or I was going to die. That’s where you are, Nic. You have to trust me when I say this isn’t normal, and you deserve better. Let me help you.”

This was it. Nicole would be the first woman I saved, and the others would follow.

Emotions flickered over her face: shock and distrust, yes, but also hope. “You know the Philosopher?”

“A long time ago.”

“What’s he like?”

“I won’t bullshit you. He’s charming. Brilliant, maybe. But he’s also a violent narcissist. Trust me, your dream about the Hilltop, and how wonderful it is? That’s a fantasy.”

The words hit like a slap. But she was practiced; she barely flinched. “You saving me is the fantasy.”

“Nic—” Over her shoulder, I saw him: Chief Dorsey, in a dark suit, walking with purpose across the grass, his eyes trained on the balcony. On us.

I leapt back, heart racing. Had he seen me?

Nicole whipped around to look; fear washed over her face. “He was supposed to be out of town with his wife.”

My knees turned to liquid. “Adam Dorsey is your Pater? The chief did this to you?”

She wasn’t looking at me. Her eyes were fixed on Dorsey, cutting like a knife toward the house.

“He’s here to punish you, isn’t he? For coming against his orders?”

She tore her eyes from Dorsey, who’d made it to the large stone patio at the back of the house. We had two minutes, maybe less, before he burst onto the balcony. “I can’t tell when he’s playing anymore…” She shook her head. “I can’t let him shut me up in his house. I need to see people. I have to get to the Hilltop.”

“Nicole, you have to leave. We can run together. I have money.” A lie. “I can protect us.” Two lies, but I’d say anything.

She gripped my hands. Her voice was hushed. “Listen, I’m more scared of Rachel than Adam. She’s the one who’ll kill me if I leave.”

The ground opened beneath me. “Rachel?” The words weren’t coming out clearly. “Who… Where is she?”

Nicole’s eyes swept the master bedroom, fixing on the door where Dorsey would appear any moment. I could feel her legs bouncing, aching to move. “The Hilltop.”

“With Don?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know who that is.”

“The Philosopher,” I said, resisting the urge to shake her.

“No…the Philosopher’s name is Greek. I heard Adam say it once.”

Greek? That wasn’t right. The Philosopher had to be Don. If it wasn’t, nothing made sense. I shook my head. “You’re saying Rachel… She hurts the daughters?”