That I would never tell anyone what he did. That as ridiculous as it is, the time we spent in the cabin, in the snow…
Well shit, it’s probably been the best few days of my life.
17
STREETER
“No killing Remi,you hear me? I want to keep that eager twink.” Just thinking about what he asked me to do and what other ideas he got from books that he wants to recreate has my dick hard. There’s no way I’ll allow Camden or anyone else to take Remi from me.
He’s mine.
“You sure?” he asks.
I growl, my hands becoming fists at my sides. If my friend were in front of me, I might have socked him in the face for thinking he could touch what was mine.
“Yes, I’m fucking sure. Fucking drop it.” My voice is low and deadly, capable of scaring an ordinary man, but Camden barely acknowledges it.
“Yeah, okay,” he says. “Fine. You should have called me for this outing. It’s been a while for me.”
I chuckle, anger draining from me. “This shit wasn’t planned. Though it is your fault. You fucked my day up early with that fucking Mariah song on my Baddies playlist. I was already out for blood.”
Camden grunts, then inhales deeply. I can imagine him sitting on his couch, toking up. A blunt would be nice right now. It would help me calm down so I can plan how to get rid of these bodies. As it stands, I got fuck all besides taking them further into the woods and hoping the animals devour them. That’s not a good enough plan.
The speaker rumbles with his exhale and he says, “Yeah well, next time, fucking call me, dude. We could have made it a party.”
“Whatever. Listen, I swear I’ll get you all the free shit at the general store without getting fired,” I promise when Camden tells me what he wants. “Just get your ass up here and help.”
“I want that fucking gas card for my damn snowmobile. For a fucking year, Street, you hear me?”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “I fucking hear you. If I get fired, I want it back.”
Camden’s laughter rings in my ears as I hang up. It’s always good to know another psychopath who’s willing to help get rid of bodies. Who else would I ask? Remi? He’s so small, so delicate. Sure, he can help move them, but dig graves? Maybe dismember frozen bodies? I doubt he has the strength for it.
“Remi, come here,” I say over my shoulder as I rummage through his dead boyfriend’s things. What else does he have in here? Clothes, shoes, two fucking boxes of condoms?
I grunt and throw them against the wall. What the fuck did this shithead have planned for my sweet Remi?
Maybe it’s a good thing that fucking song blasted through my damn speakers. I wouldn’t have come up this mountain and saved him from his ruin otherwise. Maybe I’ll add Mariah back to my list. I think she’s earned her place there after all my years of hatred.
“Remi,” I call again, dumping the items from another duffle bag onto the bed. More fucking condoms and lube. Thesefucking guys were animals. Sick fucking freaks that deserved to be put down. I kinda wish I’d made them suffer more.
After a minute of rummaging through bags and pocketing expensive watches, I realize that the cabin is silent. Too fucking silent.
Where the fuck is Remi?
Stepping over bags, I tear out of the room and look around. The front door is wide open, soft snow drifting inside. Why is the door open? Where does Remi think he’s going? The snow might be melting, but there’s still a few feet on the ground. He’s in a thin sweater and jeans, no boots to keep his feet warm and no jacket to keep him from fucking shivering.
“God damn it,” I grit out. I hunt for his jacket and pull my own on, then dash out of the cabin.
The headless body of the man I didn’t get to is just visible under the snow melt, and I curse. I should have taken that fucker to the back with the others and tossed him in the ditch, but it was too much trouble. Now, with the prospect of someone coming to see if we’re still in the cabin days after we were supposed to leave, I wish I hadn’t been so fucking lazy.
Then again, Remi was on my cock, and nothing was taking me away from that.
His footsteps leave deep fissures in the snow, and I follow them, seeing his haphazard path down the mountain. How long has he been out here? I wasn’t on the phone long, but this weather takes nothing but a moment to freeze you down to your core. If he only has that light sweater on, he’s probably frozen to the damn bone.
“Remi! Where are you?” I shout.
He can’t have gone far. The sun is shining, but the temperature is still low. The snow has somewhat melted, but not enough to walk in for long without the legs of his pants getting soaked through.
