“Careful, beautiful girl—you’re starting to look dangerously close to brave,” I snarl against her lips, my teeth exposed.
Her eyes dance with laughter, then I release her with a small shove. It’s strange—almost fucking irritating. Instead of cowering in the corner like she should, trembling at the sight of the emotionless monster I have exposed myself to be, time and time again, she’s becoming braver. Wrapping me around her little finger, tighter and tighter.
Her boldness isn’t born of innocence or ignorance; no, she’s seen the darkness, the burden of what the fuck I am. But she stands taller, her eyes sharp, as if challenging me to continue trying to break her and show her more of what I can do.
I draw my eyes away from hers and lean down, scooping Midnight up before handing her to Raven. As she takes her, I lift the suitcase, and we leave this mansion behind.
Chapter Thirteen
Raven
As we step out of the rotting, ghostly mansion, the night wraps around us like a shroud. The full moon hangs high above, radiating its cold, silver glow over the overgrown path ahead. Ty’s fingers are locked around mine in a hold that’s almost bruising, dragging me behind him without a word.
“Whose mansion was that, Ty?” I ask, my voice hesitant but edged with curiosity. “Do you know who lived there?”
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even look back, but his reply is sharp, laced with a hint of disgust. “My grandparents.”
My brows shoot up in surprise, his confession catching me off guard. “You’re from this small town?”
He finally glances at me, his black ski mask now pulled up over his nose, revealing only a glint of his brown eyes in the moonlight.
“Not really,” he mutters, his tone flat but heavy. “My parents grew up here. Did a lot of… business in this shitpit.” The word rolls off his tongue like venom before he pauses for a second, “They lived in another small city not far from here.”
I try to think back on the details from his file, but now, when I reach back for them, they slip through my fingers like smoke. It feels like years have passed since I read it, though I know it hasn’t been long. It’s only been days. Time feels warped aroundhim, distorted, like he bends it to his will the same way he does everything else.
Maybe, eventually, he’ll open up to me. Maybe I’ll earn a glimpse inside that labyrinth of a mind and find out the truth behind his actions. I need to know why he’s doing all of this. Why he chose me. Why he’s killing again. I can’t believe he’s just some mindless murderer who kills for the rush. There’s something more behind it, a purpose I can feel in every calculated move he makes, in the unspoken burden that shadows his eyes.
But I know that purpose—whatever it is—won’t make it right. Killing isn’t right. It can’t be justified, not really. Yet, I can’t stop myself from wanting to understand. To hear his reasoning. To unravel the dark strings tying him to this madness.
Psychopaths are intelligent, frighteningly so. And Ty… he isn’t driven by a frenzy. There’s no mania clouding his thoughts. Every step, every act, is deliberate. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
I shouldn’t care about the answers. They won’t redeem him, won’t undo the horrors he’s unleashed, but for some stupid, desperate reason, I need to hear them anyway. I need to understand the why, as if that information could validate something—anything—about this twisted connection between us and I hate myself for wanting it.
As he drags me through the woods, Midnight claws at the front of my hoodie, trying to anchor herself as I stumble to match his long strides. My breath comes out uneven, but not just from his pace, but from the filth swirling in my mind.
I can’t stop thinking about the way he fucked me. I can still feel him between my thighs. How his big body felt against mine, like he was claiming me in ways I didn’t know were possible.
My mind is a confused wreck over him, torn between disgust and a pull so strong it’s like I can’t say no—even when I want to, I still find myself wanting to spread my legs for him.
The way he degraded me, his words vicious and disgusting, yet they ignited something dark inside. And then the look on his face—the sheer pleasure in his eyes as he first entered me—I’m sure that altered my fucking brain chemistry. Or maybe it built something. I can’t even tell anymore.
It all felt so riskily right, like we fitted, like I was born to be tangled in his darkness, even as if know, deep down, I should be running as far away from him as I can.
I’m fucked.
There’s no other word for it. Something is seriously wrong with me, and the worst part is—I’m not sure I even want to fix it anymore. I don’t even know if I can.
…
As we break through the graveyard’s stifling silence, I see my car waiting where I left it, parked outside the house I’d been staying in. Leaves cling to its surface, and the sight feels oddly distant, like it belongs to someone else. Ty doesn’t reduce his pace while he pulls me along.
“Is there anything in the house that you left behind? Because you won’t be coming back here again,” he murmurs as he faces me, his voice low, almost intimate, his dark eyes searching mine.
I swallow hard, glancing back at the house with a small headshake. “I think you got everything,” I reply, my voice tight.
With that, he unlocks the handcuff from his wrist and slips his warm hand into mine before leading me to the driver’s side of the car.
“Where’s the keys?” he asks, his tone steady but demanding. I lean down, fumbling with the side pocket of my suitcase until my fingers close around the cold metal.
