Page 11 of Buried Beneath Sin

“Dinner will be ready soon,” I say without looking over my shoulder.

I can tell at once that it’s Sagan by the energy around the man who steps up beside me. His six-four height dwarfs my five-nine frame. His looming presence is a comfort I bask in often. Sagan’s hand comes up and he cups the back of my neck in a possessive hold. For a fraction of a second, I stiffen. The touch isn’t unexpected and it's in a safe zone, still… The tension is there and gone so swiftly I doubt Sagan even noticed.

“Who are we eating tonight?” he asks.

“She said her name was Barbie, but you know strippers—they’re not very forthcoming with their real names.”

The rest of her organs were left to rot in her body on the side of a road somewhere since we don’t have a freezer. It’s a shame really. I hate letting food go to waste, but that happens more times than not in our line of work. Especially given our nomadic lifestyle. It’s hard to lug around a deep freezer and expect its contents to stay cold. Hopefully, with this next move, that will change.

“It smells good, Pretty Boy,” Sagan says.

A compliment—how rare. As much as I would like to revel in it, I know he’s thrown me this praise because he’s about to tell me something I don’t want to hear.

“You’ll have to save me some since I’m headed out for the night.”

And there it is. The bad news. I freeze as anger uncoils in my gut. My head jerks up to glare at the Hunt twin staring down at me. His dark bangs fall into his face, practically hiding his eyes, but I can feel them as they travel over my face. To anyone else, he might look like someone you’d want to give a wide berth. Not because of his clothes, which are understated despite their expensive cost. But because ofwhohe is. With a face void of any emotion, eyes that track your every move, and with the malevolent aura that vibrates around him, Sagan certainly doesn’t give off ‘let’s be friends’ vibes. I love it. That heady power he carries around with him so naturally isn’t something I care to fight as it lures me in. Right now, however, I want to lean in and stab the guy right in the damn face.

“Excuseme? You can stay and wait, I just said dinner will be ready?—”

“Not tonight, Pretty Boy,”

My grip tightens around the tongs. Sagan swoops down to plant a kiss against my temple. It’s supposed to placate me. Usually, any type of affection coming from Sagan does, given that he rarely ever shows any to begin with. It doesn’t work this time. Not when I know where he’s going.

“What’s the point of spying? We have all the information we could possibly need,” I snap.

Sagan doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to. I know why and I hate it. I throw the tongs into the motel’s parking lot with a snarl and step out of his grip.

“I can’t wait to fucking gut that bitch,” I hiss, crossing my arms over my chest. “And to eat her heart.”

Sagan’s mouth twitches. “You’re fun to be around when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!”

Yes I am. Fiercely so. Why he has any interest in the simpleton, small-town bland bitch is beyond me. Sagan is a black void filled with only wrath and mild contentment. Nothing fazes this man, and over the past four and a half years of knowing him, nothing has ever captured his attention so wholly except for me. Yet suddenly this Starr girl pops into his life, and it’s like he’s a fish snagged on a lure that doesn’t try to escape.

“Can’t you just stay here and hang out with us?” I ask. I’m whining but I can’t help it. “It’s two days before Christmas, you should be spending it with your family. Yourrealfamily, Sagan. We can go into the city later and stir up some trouble.”

“We’ll go out tomorrow,” Sagan promises as he steps away from me.

“If you leave,I’mgoing to leave and run away forever!” I stomp my foot in frustration.

With his back turned to me, Sagan shrugs. “That tracker in your ass still works. I check it from time to time. I’ll just come find you and drag you back.”

“I hate this!” I shout at his back as he moves toward the motorcycle parked beside my old green sedan.

Rather than respond to my outburst, Sagan drags on his helmet and throws a leg over the bike. I flip him two birds as he pulls out of the parking lot and heads toward Chasm, leaving me behind. My teeth grind together in frustration.

He’s leaving me forher. My heart clenches painfully in my chest. Most days I can pretend I don’t have one. It’s not hard. All my smiles, jokes, and teasing are a disguise to cover up years of trauma. I know that. Iacceptthat. And most people—other than the twins—are none the wiser. But Sagan knows I care for him, and he knows I’m a jealous, needy bitch. The fact that for the past two and a half months he can leave my side so easily to drool over someone else hurts.

The twins and I have never really talked about exclusivity. I don’t necessarily have the right to be upset by Sagan’s interest in the Starr girl. But given that I’ve been their central focus since I forced myself into their lives, I just figured it was us three against the world. Hell, the reason we’re even here to steal Patrick’s house and business is because the twins want to do more for me than drag me across the country on a lifelong murdering spree. They wanted to give me something special.

“You deserve to have a place to call home, Pretty Boy,” Sagan had when they’d brought the idea up to me.

Home. That's something I’ve never had, not really. I’ve never belonged anywhere except by their sides. I’ve never wanted something so badly as I did a place to call my own, and the twins knew that.

“We can’t keep running forever, so let’s settle in a place where you can flourish. What better business for killers like us than a funeral home? This way, you’ll have a house to decorate and renovate to your heart’s desire and we’ll have a consistent income. We’ll be set for life.”

And by we, I thought they meant us three. Except somehow, the Starr girl managed to wrap Sagan around her little finger. I thought we’d see more of him if I agreed to move into this rink-a-dink motel a town over from where we want to end up rather than continuing to travel the states and hoping he can catch up to me and his brother. But Sagan’s been gone more than he’s been around ever since we got here. Since I joined the Hunt twins, we’ve been family unit. Sure, we do solo hunts here and there but each night we come back to one another. For one of the twins to completely up and leave for days or a week at a time was simply not done. Sagan’s absence feels like a slap in the face. He’s put someone else over his family. Overme.

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