Page 30 of The Hand that Frays

I’m the Butcher of Crows Hollow still, sure.

But I’m also the stupid man who fell for his nurse. A stupid man who fell in love with her as she crawled to him, his pills on her tongue, his madness becoming entangled with her own.

I can’t do this without her, and I’m unafraid she now knows that.

“Will you help me, stupid girl?” I ask her.

Her hands grip either side of the chair like a vise as she rides my fingers, coaxing her orgasm closer.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, Neo. You knowthat!” she breathes, barely getting the words out before she groans, her body nearing the climax it seeks.

I grin against her cheek, letting my tongue dart out and slip up her cheek as she lolls her head back into my shoulder.

“Scream my fucking name when you come. Let all of London know the Butcher and his wife are here to bathe their streets in red,” I taunt.

And when she comes, she does just that.

What I saw tonight was disturbing, even to me, but I’m balanced once more by the screams of my wife and the knowledge that we’ll end this shit together.

Then, we’ll stroll the streets of London as if we’re only tourists taking in the sights.

The plan comes together inside me, and my blood fizzles with thrill.

“Get on the bed, stupid wife. I haven’t had my dinner, and I’m fucking starving.”

Her hazy eyes roll over toward me as she shakily heeds my command.

In a world where the Hatts exist, I’m sure fucking glad Lyla does, too.

Or I’d lose my fucking mind.

More so than I already have, that is.

CHAPTER NINE

LYLA

“This is such a bad idea,” I repeat as I rifle through the file cabinet, looking for the last name Hatt.

Neo looks over from his own file cabinet with a slick grin on his face. “What, you don’t enjoy being back in the asylum, stupid girl? I thought you’d feel more at home here.”

I purse my lips. “If either of us felt at home here, love, it would be you.”

That earns me a snarl, and I grin, revitalized by the banter between him and me.

Another few moments go by, and then Neo lifts a file out. “Got it.”

Closing the drawer before me, I sidle up next to him, shining my flashlight down as he opens the file.

There’s a photo in the top left corner of it.

“Is that her?” I ask him.

He nods absently. “She’s younger here, but yes, that’s her.”

I replay what he said he witnessed in my head,confused as to why she would be so comfortable watching her parents in such a manner. I can’t figure it out for the life of me.

I know people have their kinks, but…

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