Page 139 of Bake the Town Red

“We’ll stay together for hours. Later.” Impatience and nervousness swirl in my veins. “What’s going on? Do you have a lover? Who do I have to kill?”

“Another woman…” Tyler doesn’t move one second. I blink, and his lips are on mine.

The kiss is surprising. It’s soft and full of devotion. He’s giving me himself. Telling me through the sexy swipe of his tongue on the seam of my lips that there’s been no one else. That he wasn’t lying when he said that before.

His dark eyes are tortured once he pulls back. “Someone’s hunting me.”

My lips part to tell him it’s been me. Before I say a word, he offers me a short, knowing smile.

“Another person. Another killer.”

“The one you’ve been provoking on your blog?”

“Yes.” How and what and who are meaningless questions. Ones Tyler doesn’t bother bringing up. “You’ve been busy tonight, so I don’t assume you read the last post.”

“I haven’t.” Dread lines the pit of my stomach, heavy and, quite frankly, annoying. I don’t fear anyone anymore. I kill them. I grip Tyler harder. “Did that fucker dox you?”

“No, he won’t publish my home address. That is, if he has it.” The rage building in me bleeds out and infects Tyler. His eyes harden, his jaw tics. “He’s furious that I fucked up his plans. He’ll want to settle the score in person. And since you live here now, since you’remine, he could come after you to get to me.”

“He’ll see us together. Might already have,” I finish Tyler’s train of thought. Run my hand through his damp hair. Tilt my head to the side and bite his wrist. “Fun times.”

“Figured you’d say that.” Tyler grips my thigh. Places it over his. “You need to have your guard up until we’re done making a plan to catch him.”

Image upon image flash before me. Tyler and I wearing black clothes. Having masks on. Strolling down stranded alleyways and back streets. Both of us hiding butcher knives beneath our coats.

Taking turns on slashing the FyndUsHere Killer.

Blood everywhere.

“I love that.”

“Me too, little savage.” His eyes darken. His voice, however, softens. “I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else but you.”

“The past bothers you.” My enthusiasm deflates at the sadness in his eyes. “How we weren’t together then.”

“I think about how I wasn’t prepared. How I focused on the now. How I didn’t see further than that, how I didn’t save the three of you.” His tormented expression turns somber. He realizes he couldn’t do anything with it. He blames himself regardless. “That day you called me from work, about Ian breaking down doors and killing our neighbors from the first floor and up, I ran home so fast. I needed to save my grandma and you. I needed to catch Ian and save him too. None of this was his fault. All of it was Al’s fault.”

This confession. These words. Tyler only told me that being together would ruin us. He hasn’t opened up. Never told me what it was like for him.

By the time Tyler made it to the apartment building, there was nothing left to save. Mrs. Price had taken her last breath minutes ago. The gray matter of Ian’s brain was splattered on my shirt. My face. My hair.

Tyler found me in his apartment. Sobbing and screaming. Baring my teeth to any police officer who tried to get near Ian, Mrs. Price or me. They couldn’t take them from me. They couldn’t.

Then Tyler. He stormed inside. Shocked first. Shouting second.

“You gripped the three chairs in your dining room and smashed them against the wall.” I search his face for answers.For something to reconcile what I witnessed that day and what he’s telling me. “You were so mad. My heart bled for you. It was worse than my own pain.”

“I hurt, Dahlia, because I couldn’t help you. Any of you. Watching the three of you there tore out the last shred of hope I had. Took my sanity with it.” He leans in to kiss my forehead. “I had to fix it. Salvage what’s left. And that was you, love.”

“Separating yourself from me was your solution,” I finish his sentence. Repeating the part I already know. “That’s why you did it. That’s why you clung on to it.”

“Nothing else made sense. Nothing could explain this tragedy.” Deep breath. Confident gaze. He’s sad, but not torn. We’re finally whole. “Your parents being shot at a mugging gone wrong. What your uncle had put you and Ian through. Your meltdowns. Me falling in love with a seventeen-year-old. Thenthat. I had to make sense of the world. Had to think and think fucking fast about how to protect you.”

“What made this year special?” My fingers trail to his neck, index and middle finger pressing on Tyler’s pulse point. The simple joys in life—reveling in the fact that he’s alive. “Why’d you come for me this year?”

“The pull between us.” His hand on my thigh pins me to his body. “You feel that, don’t you, little savage?”

“Always.” I murder people to silence the voices in my head. And for fun. I’m ruthless and unapologetic as fuck. But with Tyler, I’m softer than melted butter. “Always.”

---