Page 54 of The Amendment

It was like a fever dream.

For so long, I’d brought bodies to the woods alone, buried them alone, reveled in these moments alone. I thought bringing Ainsley into the process would take some of the enjoyment out of it for me, but as I stared at her, panting and sweaty, flecks of blood in her hair and eyelashes, knowing what she’d done… I could only wonder why I hadn’t brought her into my world sooner.

There were two versions of myself. The version I showed the world: the father, the architect, the husband, the friend. Then there was the version that existed underneath all of that, the one only my victims, Jim, and now my wife knew: animalistic, vengeful, insatiable.

Seeing her come into that world, come to know that version, had once repulsed me. Terrified me.

Now I couldn’t think of anything more natural.

Of course she should know me in this state.

The protector.

The animal.

Stripped down to my basic, primal needs.

Herbeing one of them.

Maybe this was the solution to my desires, after all. Maybe she was right.

She swiped her hand across her forehead. “Where to?”

She needed me here. She was helpless for the next part. She couldn’t dig the graves, couldn’t bury the bodies.

She needed me.

She needed me.

She needed me.

“Peter,” she said, her tone pointed, and I snapped out of my thoughts.

“Sorry. This way.” I jutted my head to our left and led her down the small path and past the gully. We went down one side and up the other, stopping occasionally to catch our breath.

“How much farther?” she asked when we stopped the final time between two large oak trees.

“It’s here,” I told her, wiping sweat from my upper lip.

“Here?” Her eyes widened, staring at the ground below her. She was standing just above the bodies I’d buried, though you couldn’t tell at a glance. I’d been careful, meticulous about their placement, making sure to keep the ground as undisturbed as possible.

I came back occasionally, even when I didn’t need to, just to check on them.

They were my trophies.

The pairs of underwear were one thing, but the bodies, those were the true prizes.

My victims were the only ones who knew what I was capable of.

At least, until now.

“I’ll go get a shovel from the garage,” she said, turningand rushing back toward the house. I nodded, then bent down, pulling back a bit of the tarp to look at his face.

Even through the plastic, I could see the dark, black line running across his neck. I grinned.

It wasn’t a method I would’ve chosen, but it worked.

It got the job done.

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