Haven leans in to kiss me, soft and sweet. “We know.”
“Now,” Kai says, his grin returning full force as he reaches for my half-hard cock. “How about you show usexactlyhow grateful you are?”
I pull them both down onto the couch, the flash drive still clutched in my palm.
Outside, snow drifts over the Montana wilderness while inside, three monsters are about to make love by firelight…and possibly plan their first kill together.
At least…that’s what we wereaboutto do.
Thud-thud—thud-thud
We all three jerk at the sound, sitting up to stare at the cabin’s door.
“Um…” Haven whispers. “What the actual fuck?”
Chapter 59
Haven
DeputymotherfuckingThatcher is standing on our porch.
He’s not in his uniform—unless it’s hiding somewhere beneath his beanie, scarf, mittens, polar fleece puffer jacket, thermal pants, or insulated snow boots—but he’s still thedeputyof Agony Hollow.
On our porch.
In Montana.
“Good fuckinglordit’s cold out here,” Thatcher says, glowering first at Bastian, then Kai, then me. “Why’d you half-ass it when you could’ve moved to fucking Alaska?”
My heart is hammering so loud in my chest, it feels like it’s going to crack my ribs. “What…?”
Kai steps in front of Bastian and me, arms held out, and puts his body between us and the deputy, like shielding a serial killer and the girl who gutted a man with a carving knife is just another Christmas morning.
“I did it,” he says, voice flat and steady and completely fucking terrifying. “I killed all of them. If you’re going to arrest someone, arrest me.”
There’s a beat of silence.
At least, as much silence as there can be in the wilderness.
Then Thatcher laughs, glancing past Kai at Bastian. “So you kept it a surprise after all, did you?”
Bastian huffs out something that might have been a chuckle, and reaches past Kai to grab Thatcher’s arm. “You going to come inside, or freeze to death on the porch, Fox?”
“Freezing to death wasn’t on my bingo card this year,” he says.
I stare at Kai.
He’s standing like he’s grown roots—arms out, chest rising and falling, hands shaking.
He just confessed to murder on Christmas morning without hesitation.
Forus.
“Kai,” I whisper.
He doesn’t move until Bastian puts a hand on his shoulder and physically guides him aside. Even then, his eyes don’t leave Thatcher, tracking the deputy the way a dog tracks a stranger near its family.
“Haven. Kai.” Thatcher gives Kai a nod as he squeezes past him through the doorway. Me and Kai turn to watch him go inside our cabin, then turn to stare at each other.
