The rain fell in steady sheets, blurring the world beyond Asher’s windshield. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. The rhythmic swish of the wipers did little to quiet the storm inside him. It had been weeks since he packed his life into boxes and moved to a soulless rental across town, fleeing the ruins of his marriage. Rachel had obliterated the life they’d built with her betrayal, and while Asher had walked away from her, he couldn’t leave Delaney behind. She was the only reason he returned to this house. The only tether to the man he once was.

He killed the engine in the driveway, staring at the townhouse as the rain drummed against the roof. The dark windows stared back at him, lifeless and cold. He took a steadying breath and stepped out, the rain soaking through his jacket as he trudged to the door.

Asher didn’t knock. He still had his key, though each time he used it, it felt more like trespassing.

The metallic tang hit him the moment he stepped inside, freezing him mid-step. He knew this smell, had tasted it in the back of his throat too many times during his years in homicide. Fresh red blood.

His hand instinctively brushed the holster that was no longer there. He stepped forward cautiously, the dread in his chest coiling tighter with every step.

“Rachel? Delaney?” he called, his voice taut and sharp.

The living room came into view, and his world shattered.

Rachel lay sprawled on the floor, her lifeless eyes wide and glassy. Blood pooled around her head, soaking the fibers of the rug. Across the room, Delaney was slumped against the couch, her small frame too still. The sight of her favorite stuffed rabbit, its matted fur stained with blood, twisted something deep inside him.

His legs buckled, and he fell to his knees. The coppery stench of death overwhelmed him as he crawled toward Delaney. “No, no, no,” he whispered, his voice cracking. His trembling hands touched her face, her cheek cool beneath his fingers. A broken sob tore from his throat.

A creak of wood snapped his head up.

In the doorway to the kitchen stood a man, the knife in his hand dripping red. His face was hidden behind a ski mask, but his posture was relaxed, almost casual. The knife’s tip hovered idly over Rachel’s body, and as Asher watched in horror, the man crouched down, dragging the blade along Rachel’s arm in a sickeningly slow caress.

“She was beautiful, wasn’t she?” the man murmured, his voice low and rough. His gloved hand brushed Rachel’s hair, pushing it behind her ear. He smiled at her, a twisted, intimate expression.

“You son of a—”

The man’s head snapped up, his grin widening. “She didn’t love you,” he sneered, his voice taking on an edge of possessive venom. “You should’ve seen the way she looked at me. Like you never existed. Like you were the mistake.” He stood slowly, the knife gleaming as he pointed it at Asher. “She was mine. All mine. She just didn’t know it yet.”

Asher’s chest heaved, his fists clenching at his sides. “You killed her,” he snarled, the words trembling with fury.

The man tilted his head, his tone pitying. “I set her free,” he replied. “She didn’t need you. And that thing?” He gestured to the small, still body of Asher's daughter on the couch with a flick of the blade. “She was nothing but a distraction. A barrier to the love we were supposed to share.” His grin widened as he glanced at Rachel’s body. “Now she’s mine forever.”

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Something inside Asher snapped. He roared, a guttural sound ripped from the depths of his soul, and charged at the man.

They collided, the impact slamming them into the coffee table. The knife came up, slicing across Asher’s arm, but the pain only fueled his rage. He grabbed the man’s wrist, slamming it against the floor until the knife clattered away. His fists came down in a torrent, each strike fueled by unrelenting fury.

The man bucked beneath him, managing to twist free and land a punch that sent Asher reeling. Blood dripped from his split lip, but Asher lunged again, tackling the man into the wall. His hands wrapped around the killer’s throat, squeezing with the strength of a man who had nothing left to lose.

The man’s gasps turned to gurgles, but his laughter broke through. “She screamed your name, you know,” he rasped, his eyes gleaming with deranged satisfaction. “When I slit her throat.”

Asher’s vision went red. He slammed the man’s head against the wall, once, twice, until the plaster cracked. Blood spattered in thick arcs, his hands slick with it. When the man’s body finally went limp, Asher didn’t stop. His fists pounded into the unrecognizable face until there was nothing left but silence.

He staggered back, chest heaving, his knuckles raw and dripping. The room swayed, the coppery stench of blood suffocating him. He stumbled to Delaney’s side, collapsing next to her.

Shaking, Asher fumbled for his phone and dialed the only number that mattered.

“Hayes,” came the voice on the other end.

“Vicky,” Asher choked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Asher? What happened?”

“They’re gone,” he gasped. “Rachel… Delaney… I couldn’t save them.”

The silence stretched for an eternity before Vicky’s voice returned, calm but thick with emotion. “Listen to me, Ash. I’m on my way. Just hold on, okay? Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I don’t know if I can…” His voice broke, his tears spilling freely. “I can’t live with this, Vick. I can’t breathe. I can’t—I don’t want to hurt you, but I need this pain to stop.”

Her voice was urgent now, fierce but breaking. “You didn’t give up on me, Ash. Not when I was at my worst. And I’m not giving up on you now. Please, just hold on.”

Asher closed his eyes, the phone slipping from his hand as her voice faded.

Asher sat on the floor, the gun trembling in his hands. Delaney’s stuffed rabbit lay at his feet, a silent witness.

The weight of his memories crushed him—Delaney’s laughter as she hugged his leg, Rachel smiling at him in the glow of a summer morning. It was all gone. Torn away.

He raised the barrel to his chin, his finger curling around the trigger. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his tears mixing with the blood on his face. “I’ll see you soon.”

The deafening roar of the gunshot shattered the silence. Blood sprayed across the wall as Asher’s body fell limp, his final breath escaping in a quiet sigh. For a moment, the world stood still. Then the shadows in the corner shifted, dark tendrils curling like smoke as they reached for him.