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“What the fuck!”

I crawl to him in the trail of blood he left behind. He screams at me to get away from him, but his fight response is much less than his sister’s was. I’m able to use the palm of my hand and hammer the knife in further before he drops to the floor. The impact of his fall makes the knife finish its way through the top.

He tries to fight me away from grabbing at the handle again, but he’s becoming weak from quick blood loss.

“Your sister did this to my face!” I yell at him over his panicked screams as I grab hold of the slick handle and yank it out from beneath his flesh. “She did it when I killed her, too!”

The truth rolled off my tongue easily. Let him carry that into whatever hell awaited him.

“F-Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yells, trying to scoot away from me, closer to the door. His face is already turning white, covered in blood splatter and sweat.

“Your brother is what’s wrong with me!” I feel tears swelling, but they aren’t from sadness. They’re from anger; years of pain, finally finding an outlet.

I grab his ankles, dragging him to lie down on the floor. I climb on top of his stomach, my back to his face, and he lets out a pained moan. He tries to punch my sides, but he’s growing weaker by the second.

“You can thank Preston for this,” I tell him over my shoulder before I slide the knife back through the stab wound that already sits between his penis and his body. I begin sawing, working through the muscle until it’s released from one side. His yells have turned into breathy groans. I finish my work on the other side, until it’s completely removed from his body.

I sit there for a moment, panting heavily, covered in blood and feeling more alive than I ever have. Robert’s completely silent and still; the only movement is the river of red still gushing from the open wound.

Standing up, I survey the carnage. It looks like a slaughterhouse, which I suppose it is at this point. Now decorated in crimson and still naked, I grab Robert’s severed dick in my hand and find my way to the kitchen. The air is still thick with the metallic scent, but underneath it is the smell of dried flowers from dead roses, withered daisies, brittle baby’s breath hanging from the ceiling.

I tear down a handful of flowers from their resting place and arrange them in a glass vase with methodical grace, placing Robert’s member front and center with a single rose sticking out of the tip. I can’t help but double over with laughter at the ridiculous arrangement I made.

My turn to have fun.

I’ve got Ghost hunting on my schedule.

– Darling.

I return to the scene so I can take my phone from its hiding place and fast-forward to find the perfect spot to send to Preston. I take a screenshot of the moment I put Robert in my mouth, his head thrown back. His face is visible, and the expression is pure lust. Perfect. I sent it to Preston with a simple message.

|Me: Come find me.

When it’s delivered, I place the vase and the note out on the porch, just as he’d done for me time and time again.

As I expected, it took no time for him to respond. Like his brother, Preston is quick to fall into my game. He’s a moth drawn to a flame, always coming back for more.

|Preston: I’ll fucking kill him.

|Preston: You like to play dirty. I’m coming.

I smile, biting my bottom lip as I read his message. I nearly slap myself when I feel that familiar warmth stir deep in the pit of my stomach again. There’s no time for self-analysis. In the bedroom again, I step over Robert’s cooling body, just another obstacle in my way. I dress quickly in all black, imitating Ghost.

I grab the knife from the floor and wipe it as clean as I can on Robert’s discarded pants, grab the pack of cigarettes that had fallen, and tuck them both into my waistband.

The hunt is on.

17

Ghost

If Wynnie hadn’t already done it, I was going to murder my brother for laying a finger on my woman. What a stupid fuck.

The entire drive to her house is a haze as I drive nearly forty miles over the limit, and I don’t give a single fuck. My grip is white-knuckled on the wheel, my mind torn between fury and something far more dangerous.

That’s my brother.

But that’s the love of my life.