“His name is Kyle Penton. I can get you his address.”
I don’t tell him, but this is going a long way to me not breaking my promise again and killing Oakley. Especially when he ads… “Tell me if you need help when you’re finished.”
I know what he’s offering. “I know how to hide a body, Oakley.”
The confession spills out easily, and he snorts in response. “Maybe, but I’ll make sure it’s deep enough that it never touches Donovan.”
As deep as the water we dropped that body into together…
As deep as the way I feel about him.
As deep as I hope his forgiveness runs when I show up with bloodstained hands… I just hope that when I do, he’s okay.
I’m glad Oakley had an address for me, even though it came with the stipulation that he was going to call the cops if I didn’t get back to him in the next hour with information about Donovan.
I wanted to tell him that an hour isn’t a long time to cleanly plan a murder… but the truth is, I’m not going into this clean. I don’t care if I leave behind a mountain of evidence.
All I care about is getting Donovan back safely.
And honestly, as I approach his house I realize that for someone who managed to get the jump on Donovan, this asshole isn’t very good at making sure he doesn’t pay for what he’s done. From the little bit Oakley told me, he’s not even after Donovan.
Which makes me silently promise to myself that if something does happen, or something already happened and I’m too late… I’m going to make sure that cocky little asshole pays for letting his best friend get harassed by a freak like Kyle.
His back door is locked, but he has his fucking windows open like a complete dumbass, and it’s easy to slip in through one with my slight frame. Even better, I can hear movement deeper in the house.
As much as I want to go straight to him and put a knife in his side to twist until he tells me where Donovan is, I know it’s better if I find him first. I’m going to be distracted until I know he’s safe… and I can’taffordto be distracted.
Shit, ever since I met him, none of my kills have been clean. It’s all been chaos and unplanned bullshit. If I’m going to stay with him, I’llhaveto retire anyway before I end up spending twenty to life in prison.
Though they’d probably put me on death row.
I honestly think I might be willing to die for Donovan, but I’d prefer if it wasn’t like that.
I try to be quiet as I skirt my way through the open-plan kitchen and sweep my eyes around the house. If I were going to hide a gorgeous hockey goalie who was over six feet tall, I’d want to do it in a basement.
Since this house doesn’t look like ithasa basement, the best I can do is make my way toward the back and start carefully opening rooms.
The first one is just a bedroom, and my nose instantly wrinkles.
There are pictures of Oakleyeverywhereon the walls. Photos and candid shots, magazine cutouts.
It looks like an obsessed teenager’s room. The longer I look, the more I see.
Jerseys… food wrappers?
My nose wrinkles when I look at the table beside his bed. I’m pretty sure there’s a used condom in a plasticcase.Like he wants to preserve it.
What the fuck. I shut the door and back away.
“Idiot,” I breathe. Because who would be obsessed with Oakley when Donovan is rightthere.
With a frown, I go to the next room, really hoping that I’m going to find my boyfriend. The longer I don’t find him, the more the anxiety in my chest is starting to build.
I need to see him—to touch him and feel his warmth. I need to make sure he’s okay.
I need…
My thoughts trail off as I push open the next door, only realizing as I do that there’s a lock on theoutside.
