Hating You to the Grave Chapter 8

My consciousness floated above my heavy shell.

I watched Dr. Lee’s hand tremble as he lowered my lifeless arm. He turned away to wipe a tear.

The disease had eaten everything.

Continuing treatment meant tubes, baldness, skeletal limbs, and endless agony. A life without dignity.

I didn't want that.

On the wall-mounted TV in the hallway, Julian Devereaux was being interviewed outside the hospital.

"Mr. Devereaux, how do you plan to handle this hit-and-run? Will you show mercy to your old flame?"

Jules smiled cruelly at the camera. "Of course not. I'll break her bones one by one. Otherwise, my fiancée won't find peace."

He seemed to enjoy the thought. "Too bad she ran away yesterday. When I find her, I'll let Savannah break her bones personally."

Jules had her back. The camera panned to Savannah, who looked smug yet fragile.

Two monsters in human skin. They looked disgusting.

I suddenly regretted dying so easily. I should have reversed over them yesterday.

Jules’s phone rang. He frowned and ignored it twice. Finally, he answered impatiently.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mr. Julian Devereaux?" The voice was official.

"It is. Speak."

"This is the Central Hospital Morgue. When will you have time to identify and claim the body of Ms. Evangeline Dubois?"

Jules’s expression froze. Then he laughed, mocking. "Hiding is useless. Tell her to drag herself back here within three days!"

He hung up without waiting for a response.

Marcus leaned against the wall. "Eva wouldn't hide like this. It's not her style."

"Didn't you notice she was different this time?" Jules frowned, trying to convince himself. "She looked... wrong yesterday."

Marcus nodded.

Savannah leaned into Jules. "Finding her is easy. Her mom's ashes are gone, but her dad's grave is still there. We can go..."

She stopped. The atmosphere had turned icy.

Jules glared at her. "Didn't you learn your lesson yesterday?"

"Jules!" Savannah whined. "The Devereaux family owns New Orleans. Are we afraid of her?"

"Even if we own the city," Jules said, sounding frustrated, "Evangeline Dubois never bows her head."

...

I followed Jules to the hospital terrace.

It was night. Just him and Marcus. The fog from the Mississippi brought the smell of rotting plants.

"Marcus."

"Yeah?"

Jules drank from a flask of bourbon.

"Marcus."

"I..." He took a deep breath. "I don't want to fight Evangeline anymore."