Monster Of Ruin: A Dark Serial Killer Romance (The Dark Angels Book 4)

One. Two. Three.

Gunshots.

Four. Five. Six.

Gunshots.

My heart stops beating as I race to the basement door. I left her alone when I promised I’d be close. I promised I’d protect her until my last breath.

“Clara! Fuck!”

I can hear the guys behind me talking but I can’t make out what the hell they are saying. I have tunnel vision. I need to get to her faster, yet I feel like I’m moving in slow motion. My legs are heavy, making it difficult to run. My body feels weak as I fight to get to the door.

“Baby!”

Panic. That’s what I’m feeling. I haven’t felt it since I was a kid, but it’s something you never forget. I couldn’t protect my mother, or my sister, but I’m not a child anymore. I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve stayed on the stairs. I should’ve been close.

I’ve only loved three people my entire life. I already lost two. If I lose Clara there’s no reason for me to keep breathing. I can’t go on without her. Not for a fucking second.

I swallow the emotions trying to break through and rip open the basement door, running down the stairs. I’m terrified of what I’m going to stumble upon, and I jump down the last few steps.

I nearly fall to my knees when I see Clara standing there breathing heavily. The relief I feel has me scrubbing my eyes with my hands.

I thought I fucking lost her.

“Clara?”

She’s still pointing the gun at her dead father. Crimson red blood oozes from underneath him, creating a giant puddle. I stare at him. He’s dead.

“Baby?”

“He said I was weak,” she says, trembling as she continues to stare at him.

She’s in shock. She’s never killed someone before. Your adrenaline gets so high so fast that once it starts coming down you go into a state of shock.

“Give me the gun,” I say.

She’s frozen in place, unable to move.

I cautiously step closer to her and carefully pull the gun from her hand. It snaps her out of it and she covers her mouth, looking at her dead father before turning her head toward me.

“Oh my God, I killed him. Oh, my fucking God, he’s dead. What the hell do I do now?” she shouts with wide eyes.

I grab her, holding her close as I kiss the top of her head.

“What the fuck do I do, Elliott?” she whispers.

I press my lips against hers. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re kinda good at getting rid of a body.”

She looks up at me and I smile at her. “Oh right,” she says.

“It felt good, didn’t it?”

She bites her lip as her blue eyes bounce between mine. “A little too good.”

My beautiful, perfect girl.

My delicate flower.

She’s every bit as dark as I am, and I fucking adore it.

“I love you, Clara.”

“I love you, Elliott.”

I crash my lips to hers and kiss her with everything I have.

Relieved she’s alive.

Grateful she’s mine.

Thankfully, she understands.

I glance back at the guys who have been silently waiting. I nod toward Justin’s body and say, “Burn him.” I smile down at Clara. “Welcome to my world, baby.”

Clara

I’m despondent as they load my father’s body into the back of Trace’s hearse. Yes, I’m happy he’s dead, but still a small part of me wishes it could have been different. What happened to him to make him so evil?

Will it happen to me?

No, I’m better than that. I’ve got love now and there’s no going back. I think that was my father’s problem. He never truly opened himself to love.

Did my mother ever even love him?

Did I?

I don’t have any of these answers, and as they shut the back of the hearse I let the questions die along with my father.

My mother loved me.

Elliott loves me.

I got the ultimate revenge and thanks to this group of fucked up killers, I’ll get away with it.

As screwed up as it is, I understand Elliott better now. I understand the satisfaction he gets from killing someone who deserves it.

My father may have believed I was weak, but I know for damn sure that’s far from the truth.

I survived a childhood of neglect.

I survived death threats.

I survived being held hostage.

I survived it all and that makes me fucking strong.

Elliott wraps his arms around me and kisses me. “You alright?”

“More than alright.”

I guess my father did do one thing for me after all. If it wasn’t for him, I would’ve never been kidnapped and held hostage. I would’ve never fallen in love with my captor and found the happiness I’ve craved my entire life.

When I woke up that first morning to find out I couldn’t get out of this house I now call home. I didn’t expect this. It’s not how I thought it would go.

Falling for a serial killer—who’s brought me back to life.