Page 25 of Bake the Town Red

That was another thing she needed. To breathe.

“Nod, goddammit.”

She nodded. Finally. A subtle bob of her head. A barely perceptible one.

But she did.

Her face twisted the moment I ripped off the duct tape.

“Tyler,” she sighed, her voice void of the edge from before.

“I’m here.”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Her eyes were as wide as saucers. Sadness bled from her to me. “Al is dead.”

“Yes, he is.” Gazing into her pleading blue eyes made me realize things. It would be my job to be her guardian until we sort out this mess. Every bone in my body needed to keep her safe. So much so that it physically hurt. “You did it, little savage. You slayedthe monster. They’ll hunt Ian down for it, until they give up. They will. You’ll be okay. Both of you.”

Every word brought another wave of lucidity into her gaze. Rage swelled there now. Violence brimmed in her shining blues.

The lost part I’d witnessed in Ian’s eyes was gone. Thank fuck.

Then her chin wobbled, her lips pinched. “I did it?”

The sadness in her voice tore me apart. The ability to talk had left my body. Checked the fuck out.

I folded Dahlia into a hug. Let her arms sling around my torso. Allowed this tiny person to cry her eyes out.

When she was done, I got out of the bathroom so she could shower. I pulled out a pair of sweats, T-shirt and clean underwear and placed them on the sink for her.

I didn’t see her naked, never had. What I did was change the sheets in her bed. Clean the living room and kitchen area without moving the body. Called the cops.

“No, Ian didn’t tell me where he’s going,” I said with a straight face when they interviewed me. “He was here, with Al’s body and Dahlia for two days, I think? That was what she said, at least. Then he left.”

They never found him. I went to court and became Dahlia’s legal guardian. I was also the one responsible for my grandma’s death.

“Get out, Tyler.” Dahlia’s voice slashes through the painful memory. She’s so close to me that I feel her rage. A real rage?

Don’t think so. She’s faking it. Baiting me to argue with her. To stay.

“We’reclosed. Go. Away.”

My heart beats wildly, begging to be freed from the cold cage it’s been locked in for the past four years. Desperate to jump out of my chest and be united with its soulmate.

My hand can’t seem to release her, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. My cock is harder than it’s ever been. I need her, and fuck, I can’t release her. Can’t leave this place.

I’m losing this fight. I’m failing Dahlia. I need her, and I’m failing her.

The swinging door to the space behind the counter doesn’t squeak when I push past it. When I give in to the impulse. I’m right there with Dahlia, looming over her.

“Leave.”

I press her to the wall. Wrap her throat with my hand.

“I’m not going anywhere.” My tune changes, and I hate myself. I’ll be the end of her because I can’t resist this woman now that I’ve had her. “You’ve been a bad girl, and I’m here to punish you.”

She hasn’t been bad. I’m a lying motherfucker.

She’s everything that’s good in this world.

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