Killer (The Company Book 2)

VANESSA

The next day …

In the police station, I stare at the wall, drinking water from a plastic cup, thinking about Phoenix. He’s been on my mind for ages … ever since I saw him at the party … the moment I knew he was back in my life.

Yes, I’ve known Phoenix longer than just a few days. Longer than weeks … months … even years. Our history goes way back, except back then he wasn’t a ruthless killer going under the name Phoenix Sullivan, and I wasn’t the coldhearted bitch that I am today.

When I said he was a stranger, I meant it. I don’t know him the way I used to, and neither does he know me for how I am today. However, I have a feeling this is far from over.

Even though he is in a cell right now, it only takes one moment for him to escape. Now that I’ve seen what he’s capable of, I know this is just the beginning of the end.

It didn’t always used to be like this. There was a time when he was just as innocent as I portray myself to be. But like everything else in this world, we changed as time passed, and so did our personalities … our appearance… our goals.

When I saw Phoenix at the party, I knew he was a changed man. I didn’t know to what extent, but it didn’t matter to me. I was still attracted to him … like I’ve always been. We’re like magnets, two opposing forces clashing with each other again and again.

Only this time I came out on top.

The police found the girl’s body in the sand, and ultimately traced it back to his apartment, where conveniently the poison that also killed my husband was found, stashed underneath the couch. Put one and two together, and you have a murder case solved.

My name was cleared, even though one might argue that I’m sleeping with my husband’s brother and had therefore planned everything with him in order to get rid of Phillip. However, it turns out the case of the curious killer, aka Phoenix Sullivan, is a much more believable plot. Especially when combined with photos that I took of my husband with his girlfriend. His motive became unquestionable.

How fortunate for me.

But here’s the truth: I’m as much conniving as this supposed killer.

One could argue who of us two is the real killer.

I guess things like that will always stay inconclusive.

As I walk through the hallway of the police station, still drinking my water, I take a peek through one of the interrogation room windows; the one Phoenix is in. And for a moment, he gazes into my eyes, which are filled with delight upon seeing his hands chained to the table. He screams, “Vanessa! I’m going to kill you for this!”

Smiling at him, I wink and blow him a kiss. Then I turn around. Throwing my plastic cup in the bin, I can’t help but think ‘let him try.’