Her sister didn’t look this cruel in the picture I found online, the family photo Skylar posted years ago.
The one where her parents and sister were smiling, while Skylar was trying hard to tilt her lips up.
I could see it hurt.
Someonehurt her.
Judging from the way her sister talks about her, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were her.
Anger turns the world red. Knowing I won’t be the one who gets to kill Bronwyn pisses me off badly. But if I want to keep Skylar close, letting my family have her sister is a sacrifice I’m willing to make.
“Easton, do you haveanybars on your phone?”
I’m done listening to them and head over to track Skylar.
My footsteps are silent as I tread on centuries-old dirt. My gaze hunts for Skylar’s figure between each exhibit.
Then it happens. That loud thud in my chest.
One heartbeat, strong and violent.
She’s here. Crouched in the photo timeline exhibit, the one Ma thought was hilarious, even though her family was there too.
Mainly because of that.
I bet Skylar has no idea she’s staring death in the eye.
On the outside, it looks like the town just thinned out.
People dying of old age or leaving for someplace better, that’s the natural order of things.
Anywhere but here.
When my family got tired of raising livestock for leather and switched to people instead, there was nothing natural about the deaths in this town. There was intent. There was survival.
Our survival.
But as I watch over Skylar, they don’t concern me.
My mouth is hungry for something dark and depraved.
Teeth, tongue, lips. My hands, I’d eat her up with them.
I’m still a virgin, same as I was a week ago. Doesn’t matter. My body’s been waiting for her all along, gearing itself for this moment, for her.
Later tonight. When she’ll be alone with no one to protect her. No one to run to.
Only then will I make her mine in the most primal sense.
But since Easton and Bronwyn aren’t my family’s captives yet, I can’t take Skylar. All that’s left to do is give her that charm.
My lungs burn. My cock is so hard it might tear through my jeans.
Because of Skylar. She’s standing there, tilting her head at the photos.
Her skin. Christ. Especially where it stretches over her slender neck. A neck I already have plans for. I’d wrap my fingers around it—tight, tighter, tightest.
The thought of hearing her scream my name… Fuck.
