Jill The Ripper Novels & Stories

But I didn’t care. All I knew was that I had to get out. Out of the church, out of this dress, out of this twisted life I had been dragged into. By the time I reached the garden behind the chapel, I was shaking. My hands gripped the railing of the stone balcony and I tried to catch my breath. I heard footsteps behind me. “I said don’t follow me,” I snapped, turning around. But it was Jillian. He looked furious—and yet not at me. “She did this to ruin us,” he said, his voice low, dark. “She planned it.”