“Sure, he may look for you, but he’ll never find you. And eventually, he will accept that you’re gone, as will everyone else.”
This is it. I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me.
A fresh shot of adrenaline surges in my veins, making me dizzy, but there’s nowhere for me to go, no way to escape.
“Please… please, Calder.” I rasp, willing him to see me, to hear me. “Don’t kill me.” I start to sob again, and through my blurry gaze, I watch him, waiting for him to do it.
To end me.
He doesn’t move, though. His mouth opens, then closes against my temple, and I swear he wants to say something. The fantasy of freedom pops when he transfers my wrists together in one hand and snakes his arm around the back of my neck to clutch me tighter to him.
Terrified, I whimper as air gets harder to drag into my lungs.
Using his body weight, he presses me harder against the wall, making it impossible to breathe, to exist.Is this it?Is he going to crush me to death? I get my answer when he shifts his forearms up, the movement making spots flash behind my eyes.
What the hell is he doing?I can breathe, but everything is foggy now.
“Shhhh. Don’t fight. It’ll be easier this way,” he says from somewhere above me.
My forehead pounds with the beat of my heart, faster and faster, harder and harder. Until everything shifts, and the pressure becomes unbearable.
Calder stares into my eyes, watching as I slip away, his face a mask of unreadable emotion. Right before I fall into the abyss, I swear I hear him say, “You’re mine now, Saint.”
Calder
Saint doesn’t struggle long.Not when her blood circulation is cut off.
Why didn’t I do it?I’m disgusted with myself. Snapping her neck would’ve been quick and painless. I had my emotions locked down, my feelings pushed to the back of my mind.
It would have been so easy.
I was ready to make peace with the fact that I would never get the chance to claim her, then she started begging, and the second she said my name…fuck.
I lost it. I caved. I knew I couldn’t do it.
Dammit. Now I have to figure out how I’m going to pull this off under Wayne’s nose.
Get a girl who clearly isn’t dead out of the house, and convince the man I’m working with to let me bury her elsewhere. I’m not a liar, and I’m just as loyal to the Bishop name as he is, but if anyone has the power to test my loyalty to the family, it’s Saint.
Adjusting my grip on her, I take her limp form into my arms, bridal style. She’s light compared to the hay bales we toss regularly. Strands of honey-blond hair stick to her tearstainedcheeks, her skin is pale, and she looks so innocent and at peace, though one look at her face and no one could mistake her for dead.
Fuck, what do I do?
End it.
There’s still time. One twist of my wrist and the problem’s solved. As if it were that easy. My fingers don’t move, and the thought makes me irrationally angry.
Frustration spikes hot and bitter in my veins. Keeping her alive is the stupidest thing I’ve done in years, and I know it.
She’s a risk, a witness, a liability I should’ve silenced on the porch beside Martin. Yet here she is, her breath ghosting against my collarbone, binding me tighter with every second I hesitate. The smell of copper and pine clings to her from my body, but there’s an undercurrent of something floral or sweet that lingers on her skin.
Wayne’s voice rips through the quiet of the night, startling me. “Calder! We need to move, now. You hear me? This ain’t clean!”
Don’t I know it?Martin’s corpse is cooling on the porch, there’s blood where there shouldn’t be blood, and I’m inside the preacher’s house holding the very thing I’m supposed to bury. My father would lose his shit if he knew about this.
I can already hear his voice in my ear and feel his fist against my jaw.
Shaking away the guilt, I walk over to the sofa and place Saint down on the cushions. Wrapping her in a blanket will make it less noticeable that she’s alive. I rip the quilt off the back of the sofa and wrap her in it, tight, until she looks small and still—more like a body instead of a living, breathing girl. Then I scoop her back up and step out onto the porch.
