What the—“What the actual fuck?” I groan and hit my head against the shower wall.Why does he always have to fuck things up when we have something that works?No feelings. No attachments.
The only way this works. The only way that I survive him.
My throat burns around the lie I choke down daily as if my feelings for him have just vanished over the years. Hell, all of this would be easier if Iactually hated him.
I lean my head under the water and let it rinse the shampoo from my hair. He’s always so stubborn, always has been. I don’t know why I’m surprised.
He said he doesn’t understand the point of anything right now. But he keeps doing it anyway.
That’s the part I don’t understand.
The look on his face before he masked it—it was agonizing. Heart-wrenching.
I know what it’s like to not know where you stand.
But he makes hard decisions every day. He always has.
And he still chooses them.
This is on him.
My phone starts to ring in the other room, and I let out a breath.What could possibly be happening now?I quickly rinse my body off, turn off the water, and grab a towel. I wrap it around my body and shimmy into the bedroom just in time to catch the call before they hang up.
“Thomas,” I say, pushing the phone to my ear.
“There’s another body.” My stomach drops.
I close my eyes. “There’re always bodies, Thomas. What makes this one so special?”
“This one is another ritual killing. Just meet me in the woods.” He hangs up the phone.
Well, that was rude.I toss the phone onto the bed and finish drying myself off. There’s no telling if this is an actual ritual killing or not. Thomas doesn’t know his face from his ass most days.
Once I’m dressed, I grab my keys and head for the door.
A putrid smell fills the air as I walk through the woods toward where Thomas stated. Bird scatter through the trees as they fly away from me.Good. I wouldn’t want to be near this aroma either.The sun is high in the sky, and the temperature is in the high 80s right now, which only makes it worse.That putrid odor is the smell of death.
Most people fear the woods I peacefully walk in now. That’s because I’m not afraid here. The green leaves and brown bark bring me the comfort I always sought as a child. I grew up in these woods, and the smell brings back memories I cherish. I run my fingers along the wood of the closest tree and feel the ridges of life beneath them.
These trees have been here for longer than I’ve been alive and will still be standing long after I’m gone. For some fucked up reason, that brings me peace.
Finally, there is a break in the trees and I know what I’m about to see before I even step into the clearing. The sun shines directly onto the corpse in the middle of the woods. Birds chirp in themorning light, and the chatter of the rest of the group nearby echoes in the small space. The scent hits me in the face, and I hold back a gag. Fresh. Not even a full day old. A tree branch breaks under my weight, drawing the group's attention, and all eyes are now on me.
Thomas walks over to me. “Oh, good, you’re here.” He pulls me by the arm toward the pentagram and then points. “Five bucks says this is a rage killing.”
I look at the flesh carefully severed from its bones and roll my eyes. “What on earth about this screams rage kill?” I point at the mangled arm. “Look at how the skin has been meticulously cut away from the bones on every single limb.” I swat his arm. “You are such an idiot sometimes.”
He chuckles. “That’s why you’re a part of the team; without you, I would be useless.”
That is the truth.As I study every aspect of the body, something feels off.Familiar.
Thomas strolls toward the rest of the group and leaves me in peace.
I categorize each slice of the blade, how deep the pentagram is in the stomach, and the fact that the face is in perfect condition, almost like someone fixed her face to make her seem peaceful after she died. Doubt there was anything calming about being butchered to death.
I grab the candles to determine their weight and then place them back down individually. This is most definitely a ritualkilling. What remains of the woman’s shorts are tattered and hang from her hips.
I pull the waistband to expose her hip bone and see the signature I’m looking for and my stomach drops. A perfectly carvedX. There is only one person who does this. And I just let him touch me.
