Kyle "KP" Peters | TBW

What Andrew didn't know wouldn't hurt him. That was the mantra Kyle kept repeating, a steady drumbeat in his mind as he stood in the shadowed parking lot outside the stadium. Andrew didn’t need to know what he was about to do—that his piece-of-shit ex would be gone for good. He’d just be free. Free to heal, free to live, without ever seeing her toxic shadow darken his life again.

Frankly, Kyle wanted to make her suffer. He wanted to rip her apart, piece by fucking piece. He wanted her to scream, to beg for mercy the way Andrew must have once begged for hers. Every awful detail Andrew had spilled after too many drinks came rushing back like fuel to a fire. But Kyle knew better. That kind of rage left evidence, and this needed to be clean. Untraceable.

Breathe, he thought, exhaling slowly. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, feeling the weight of the gloves on his hands. Trick her, kill her, dump the body in the woods for the wolves. No witnesses, no loose ends.

He'd made sure the security cameras were still busted—they'd been broken for a week, and he made sure they still were. He'd even waited for that not-date Ragnar was dragging Andrew out on. An alibi, and all whilst keeping both of them unaware. If Kyle went down, he wouldn't take them with him. Better they knew nothing of his plans.

His thoughts cut off sharply as the ugly red hire car pulled into view. There you are. His jaw clenched as he watched Ashley step out, her movements casual and confident, like she wasn’t sneaking around to wreak more havoc. She hadn’t changed a bit. Breaking in to leave presents for Andrew, cruel little reminders of her control. Andrew had poured out every horrible detail of her manipulation, her violence, her disgustingly tight hold on him. And now, here she was, prowling back into his life like nothing had happened.

Kyle felt the wolf inside him stir, the animal that shared his skin aching to be let loose. But he held it back. He’d only get one shot, and it had to count.

As soon as she was close enough, he stepped forward. His gloved hand shot out, wrapping tightly around her throat. He could feel the delicate cartilage of her windpipe compress beneath his fingers. Perfect for silencing her.

"You really think you can just walk back into his life? Destroy him again after we fixed him?" Kyle snarled, voice low, the wolf itching to escape alongside the monstrous vampire inside of him. He could feel his canines sharpening, eyes glaring holes into her panicked ones as she tried to claw at him. Stupid bitch. Kyle was wearing enough layers to prevent her nails from scraping his skin. She'd never get his DNA under those fake nails that were snapping off from the force of her panicked scramble to survive.

"Did you think your past wouldn't catch up to you, Ashley?" Her fear, the way her eyes widened, made the beast in his blood bay for violence. Be afraid of me. "You really thought you could come back? After everything you did to him?"

Her legs kicked out, her nails broke against his jacket, but Kyle didn’t move. His grip tightened. He could feel the monster inside him roaring for release, the primal urge to make her suffer. But Andrew’s face flashed in his mind—The way he'd sobbed as he told the truth about the scar on his nose being from her throwing glass at him, how he was scared because he knew she'd followed him all the way to Canada...

With a sharp twist, he ended it. One motion. Clean. Final.

"You're never hurting him again," Kyle whispered, letting her body drop to the ground.