Page 169 of Unwrapping Deviance

“Clem, come here,” I shout over the low hum of chatter.

Clem’s head pops up, her expression bemused, but she starts towards me. Barely two steps when her arm is caught.

“We’re busy right now,” Lucy says, sounding amused like I’m being ridiculous. “We have to find Mira.”

“Clem, now.”

She says something to Lucy and shakes the talons from her arm.

I know Lucy won’t do anything with so many people around to see it, but my first and only concern is getting Clem to safety.

“Baby, you okay?” Clem hurries to me.

I reach into my pocket and pull out my key. I press them into her palm.

“Go home. Don’t argue,” I cut her off when she opens her mouth. “Home. Straight home, understand?”

She nods, her eyes wide with confusion. “What are you—?”

I kiss her brow. “I’ll explain everything when I get back. I promise. Lock the doors.”

I can see the questions swirling around inside her pretty head, but she’s a good girl. My good girl. She’s not perfect, lord knows, but who is? She’s perfect for me and that’s all that matters.

My girl listens. She hurries to the truck and climbs in.

I wait until the taillights are bobbing out of sight before turning to destroy what’s left of the Carr name.

“You’re all looking in the wrong place,” I announce loudly.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

MIRA

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No amount of stuffing my hands into my mouth stifles the stupid whimpers escaping my throat. In the hollow chamber of the cellar, they are loud. Atomic bombs exploding over the desert.

Even without the whines, my heart is a jackhammer in my chest. There is no hiding from the long legs stuffed in filthy boots descending the stairs with a flashlight.

I scrunch harder against the wall, sliding as low to the ground as I can humanly allow myself without digging a hole. His thick beam of light sweeps along the bodies, outlining them in a golden thread before dropping them back into their darkness.

“I know you’re in here,” he drawls, taking another step deeper into my tomb. “You’re not stupid enough to run into the woods at night covered in my brother’s blood.”

His tone is calm, level. But there is a vibration beneath it, a taut thread of rage he’s trying to conceal. I know when he finds me — because he will — he will not go easy. He will not show mercy and all I keep thinking is how gentle and thoughtful my boys had been just the night before. How careful they’d been to take care of me.

I want my boys.

I want to be home with them entwined around me, pulling me out of this nightmare.

But more than anything, I need to tell Christian how much I love him. If I die, he will never know. I don’t even give a shit about the curse anymore. How can anything matter when Iwasted so much time being scared when I could have spent every second with them, loving them and letting them love me. I just want another chance with them. I will do better. I will tell them every day how much I love them.

If I make it out.

But the foul perfume of death and fear leaves no room for such fantasies, especially when he’s moving through the row of bodies straight in my direction.

Biting my lip, tasting my own blood, I consider scampering sideways, moving along the walls, away from his searching halo of light. But the thought of moving, of giving away my location has me paralyzed in place.

“Come out, come out wherever you are, dead bitch.”

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