He froze at her words, feeling them as a lash across his back. Silently he sat in the chair he dropped into to put on his shoes, hands dangling loosely over his knees. When he spoke, his voice sounded dead in his own ears.

"We didn't kill him because of you. If you had been his only victim, he'd still be breathing right now. We killed him to make sure he added no more corpses to that charnel room of his, and for no other reason. And if you honestly believe it was game, then you truly haven't been listening."

His fingers clenched and released, clenched and released. "I don't expect you to react any way other than how you choose. How you must. Rage at me, think me as vile as he was, call me whatever you like, it's entirely your choice and always has been. I'm not demanding gratitude or anything else from you that you can't give. I only ever wanted you to be happy."

But you needn't bother ordering me to hell. His hands finally found a grip on his knees. I'm already there, thanks to him.