The Last Shadow (Shadows and Strings #3)

Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Damien

After my talk with Francesca this morning, all I want to do is to see Olivia. I don’t know if Francesca is going to arrest me because she hasn’t said a word to me since our little chat.

Olivia’s progress means everything to me. I can’t let anything, or anyone interfere, but she needs to know in case I get locked up for life. I know it could still happen, but Francesca is my wife, and unless she secretly recorded me, which I don’t think she did, it’s her word against mine.

Would she want the world to know she’s been fucking a serial killer so intimately that she said, “I do?” While searching for said serial killer?

I don’t think so.

I step into Serenity House, donning my charming brother persona. Tara’s radiant smile hits me like a breath of fresh air in this otherwise suffocating place.

“Mr. Wolfe! It’s so good to see you.”

“Tara.” I nod. My actions this morning have made my heart race, but I need to ensure that Olivia is taken care of forever.

“You’ll be shocked at her progress,” she says with a smile, but my mind is so preoccupied that I can’t even manage a smile back.

I linger in the doorway, unable to step inside just yet. Seeing Olivia like this—light in her eyes, a small but genuine smile as she talks to Dr. Atkins—is almost too much to process. She’s come so far, and part of me doesn’t feel like I deserve to see it. After everything I’ve done in her name, all the blood on my hands, here she is, more at peace than I ever expected.

Dr. Atkins catches sight of me and gives a small nod before leaving, allowing me a few moments alone with my sister. Olivia’s eyes follow his exit before they settle on me, and the smile on her face widens just a bit.

“Hey, big brother.” Her voice is soft but steady, and that alone sends a jolt through my chest.

“Olivia,” I say, stepping forward, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “I hear you’ve been doing… really well.”

She chuckles softly, a sound I haven’t heard in years, and it nearly undoes me. “So they say. But you know how it is. Some days are better than others.”

The understatement doesn’t go unnoticed, but there’s a clarity in her gaze now that wasn’t there before. She’s really here with me at this moment, and I don’t know if it’s relief, guilt or pure fear that’s weighing heavier on me.

She pats the bed beside her, and I take a seat, feeling my heart race with every second. I know she doesn’t know the whole truth about why those people who hurt her can’t hurt anyone else ever again. She doesn’t know about the real monster sitting beside her, masked by a brother’s love. And I can’t stop wondering what would happen if she did.

“Remember when I couldn’t even look people in the eyes?” she asks, breaking the silence. “And now I’m talking to therapists, working through all the darkness.”

Her words hit deeper than she could ever know. The darkness she’s conquered is nothing compared to the darkness I carry. She’s fought her way out of it, while I walked right into it willingly.

And I’d do it again for her sake.

“Yeah, Liv. You’re stronger than anyone I know.” My voice is raw, barely more than a whisper. I can’t bring myself to say anything else because I’m not sure if it will come out steadily.

Olivia reaches over and squeezes my hand, a simple gesture that almost undoes me. She has no idea what I’ve done, what I’d do all over again to protect her. And now that I’ve told Francesca everything, how long before Olivia has to live without me?

“What’s going on, Damien?” she asks, her gaze searching my face. “You look, I don’t know, stressed.”

Her question catches me off guard. Her eyes narrow a bit, as if trying to read me more deeply. I drag my hand back slowly, running it through my hair in a weak attempt to ground myself. “Just a lot on my mind, I guess.” I force a small smile. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“But you’re always here, Damien. All these years, you were here.” Olivia smiles, and I look down, swallowing hard. I don’t have the heart to tell her I may go to prison.

“You deserve to be safe,” I say finally, my voice almost too quiet to hear. “You deserve to be happy.”

She leans in, resting her head on my shoulder like she used to when we were kids. “I am. And it’s all because of you.”

The simplicity of her words, the way she says them with such certainty, makes me want to scream. She’s whole, she’s healing, and all I can think of is that I might be ripped away from her because of the things I’ve done. I wonder if she’ll forgive me, or if she’ll even want to.

But Francesca—what if she tells? What if, after everything, my confession drives her to turn me in? I told her I’m done hiding, but the truth is, I’m terrified. For me, yes, but more for Olivia, left to pick up pieces of a life that’s already cracked and fragile.

Olivia must feel the tension in me because she lifts her head, peering at me with clarity in her eyes. “Damien, are you really okay?”

For a second, I want to tell her everything, to let the whole truth spill out and fall between us, raw and unforgiving. I want her to know what I’ve done, how far I’ve gone for her, the sacrifices I made that tore pieces out of me until there was almost nothing left. But I can’t. I won’t taint this moment, this fragile peace she’s worked so hard to find.

“Yeah, Liv,” I manage, barely meeting her gaze. “I’m proud of you. More than you’ll ever know.”

She watches me, not entirely convinced but willing to let it go, and she leans back against her pillow, looking out the window.

After a long moment, she turns back to me. “Thank you, Damien. You’re the only reason I’m getting better. I’ve got a long way to go.”

“I’ll always be here for you, Olivia. No matter what.”

Just as Olivia’s words settle over me, my phone vibrates in my pocket, jolting me back to reality. I glance down and see Francesca’s name on the screen.

This is it. The end of my life as I know it.

Francesca: I need you to come home. We have something to talk about.

I shove my phone back into my pocket and look at Olivia, sitting here with hope in her eyes.

I stand and say, “I’ll be back,” trying to keep my voice steady. I want to come back. But I don’t know if I will.

She pouts like she did when we were kids, and it makes me smile. “Promise?”

My throat tightens, but I nod, giving her the best smile I can manage. “Yeah. I promise.”

I turn away before the lie settles, before it digs in and feels real, because for all I know, Francesca’s waiting with a squad of officers at the cabin, ready to end this chapter of my life for good.