Thirty-three

Annabelle was choking, her face was turning red as Tristan’s grip on her neck tightened. He had her pinned to the wall and his face looked like a raging bull, his veins were nearly popping out.

“Where is she?” he growled in an ominous tone.

“W—who?” she asked in fear, but still trying to maintain her fake voice.

“You know damn well who I'm talking about Annabelle! What have you done to Angela?”

Annabelle's terrified gaze turned deathly cold as she had already been discovered. She pushed him away from her roughly and adjusted her scrunched up clothes. She hesitated, then said with a smile.

“You don't need her…”

“I said where is she?” he roared.

“Dead! And you will never see her again”

Tristan's whole body paled and he felt the blood draining from his face as her words echoed and replayed in his head. He was overwhelmed with so many emotions at once. Anger rolled into grief, grief turned to sadness, sadness gave way for pain and pain turned into rage all over again.

“What do you mean d