Page 63 of Hide Me Darling

Abel steps closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Even the streets on this island have ears and eyes," he explains.

I frown as I realize the implications. There must be cameras in the beachfront area, watching everything and everyone. I sigh, giving them both a resigned look. "I don't suppose you might be willing to give me that footage?"

"Nope," Abel says, laughing.

Frustration wells up inside me, but I know that arguing with them won't get me anywhere. I rub my temples, already feeling a headache coming on. "Well then, if you aren't going to simply tell me who the killer is, can we get back to the man hanging from the wall of this cave?" I motion toward where Rye is still staring at us wide-eyed.

"That's right," Cain says, returning to the earlier topic. "As I was saying, Rye is an example of nurture. He also had an event that would be considered a trigger."

"Okay, I'll bite. What was his trigger?" I ask.

"Abandonment," Abel says, his tone subtly changing, almost as if he has personal experience on the subject.

I look at him curiously, noting the shift in his demeanor. "His dad died when he was younger," Cain continues, "but then his mother left the island to move south not long after he had become an adult and established his business, so he couldn't move. Which I'm sure would have been fine, until his wife left him too. That was the trigger."

I frown at Cain's words. "But there haven't been any other murders here. I checked as part of my investigation."

Abel scoffs, and Cain looks at him briefly before turning his attention back to me. "You're forgetting Rye has a particular hatred for city girls. Remember the cases you investigated that went cold, the random club overdoses?"

I had spent months investigating a string of dead women, the captain had pulled me from the case when I became too emotionally invested in trying to bring them justice. It was hard to look at the photos of women who had been raped and then injected with enough drugs to kill them without feeling a burning need to kill the person responsible.

The new lead investigator on the case had pronounced it cold when the killer stopped, but I felt that he hadn’t, he just got better at covering his tracks.

My eyes nearly bug out of my head as I realize what he means. Rage fills me, almost blinding me. Without thinking, I take a few steps toward where Rye is until both Cain and Abel grab onto my arms.

"Careful," Abel says, pointing to the ground where there are valleys and wells in the sand and rocks forming pools of water. “I like you wet, but let's save that for later, okay?”

"We normally don't kill in our own backyard, but then Rye decided to turn his attention to the wrong city girl," Cain says, his tone darkening.

Abel leans closer to my ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You," he says, before turning and walking closer to Rye. I notice this time that his steps miss the wells of water with practiced ease.

"Do you use this cave often?" I ask, wondering how many times they have killed here.

"You'd be surprised at how many hidden spots there are on this island. But this one is even more special," Cain says.

"Why?" I ask curiously.

Abel, now standing near another wall, responds without turning around. "Because the tide will come soon and wash all the evidence away."

I shouldn't ask, I already know what he is about to say, but I need him to say it. Deep down, I want him to say it. "What evidence?" I finally question, my voice barely above a whisper.

"The blood, the footprints, the DNA, everything," Cain says, almost casually. "The tide rises, and with it, all traces of our activities vanish. It’s nature’s perfect cleanup crew."

Abel turns to face me, and the item in his hands makes my heart race, but not out of fear. “Do you believe us yet, Hydessa? We will kill anyone who thinks they can touch you. And to us, knives are for the bedroom. When getting rid of people like Rye here, we prefer to make a statement,” he says as he twirls the barbed wire wrapped bat in his hands.

My lips part on a breath. Why is that the hottest, most possessive thing I’ve ever heard? And why is it such a fucking turn on?

Cain lets go of my arm, making his own way over to where Abel is holding a second bat also wrapped in barbed wire out to him. Taking it from his brother, he moves to where Rye is chained. He pauses for a moment, tilting his head as though he’s savoring the fear radiating from him.

“I’d remove the gag, except we wouldn’t want any tourist coming to find out what all the screaming is about,” he says.

Abel chuckles, the sound slightly disturbed. “Damn shame.”

Cain raises the weapon, adjusting his grip and preparing to swing it at Rye.

“Wait.” The word escapes me before I consciously think about it. I almost take a wrong step more than once on my way across to where they are standing. When I’m close enough, Abel makes a show of kneeling before me and raising the bat to me as though presenting a sword.

“My queen,” he says and I have to swallow my laughter.

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