Page 10 of Entombed In Sin

But I didn’t see them to confirm that, did I? Thatcher tossed them and that had been that.

Unease knots in my gut. Those couldn’t have been Trevor’s eyes… right?

I pull back Trevor’s eyelid again and take a closer look. The optic nerve, or what’s left of it, sits shriveled in the socket.Inspecting it closely, I realize it’s been severed with one clean cut.

“Holy shit…” I let go of Trevor’s eyelid and step away from his body as I try to understand what I’m seeing. Or what I’mnotseeing. I need to tell the police.

No, wait, not the police. They’d look too closely into Trevor’s death then. Should I tell the twins? Resentment causes my metaphorical hackles to rise. I don’t want to talk to them. Not right now. Not if I don’t have to. An internal war rages as I contemplate what to do. If I tell them, then what? They’ll just… shrug? Laugh and dismiss me?

“I’ll tell them later,” I grumble to myself. It’s not like anything can be done about it now.

I take a step toward the small storage closet on the other side of the room—determined to use work to distract me from my misery. At the same time, the door to the preparation room opens. Just as I look up, Knox strolls in. Today he’s dressed in a deep burgundy suit and pants combo. Beneath it is a white, skin tight lace top, and under that is a white tank. Around his wrists are all those thin gold bracelets, clustered together, and around his neck are the pearls I gave him.

Like this, it’s hard to see the cruel side of Knox. Visually, he’s flawless. Especially when he shoots me that bright, friendly smile that makes me feel completely at ease in his presence.

But now I know better than to let my guard down around Knox.

The blood drains from my face as panic explodes in my chest. Instinctually, I take a few steps backward before I let out an ear-piercing shriek. The sound is cut off as I, in my haste, trip over my own feet. I yelp as I go down, falling on my butt.

“Hey, hey, hey! Enough of that!” he says. “I’m not here to hurt you. I promise. Your punishment is over, so we can go backto being besties. See? I brought a peace offering.” He lifts a white paper bag in one hand and a tall to-go cup in his other.

I’m immediately embarrassed by my reaction. Of course he’s not going to hurt me. Thatcher and Sagan have stepped in to call a timeout on this stupid game. But for how long? As my breathing returns to normal, I glare up at Knox.

“I don’t want anything fromyou.” My voice wobbles with a mixture of resentment and fading fear. I climb to my feet slowly, wincing as I use my bandaged hands to push off the ground. “Get out of here.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. I'm sorry about yesterday.” Knox groans dramatically as he saunters over to the desk. “This is my ‘I’m sorry I left you in the ground for too long and almost caused your slow and agonizing death’ meal. I went to that bakery place you took me to for those dessert croissants last week, and I grabbed us some breakfast. Sagan said you liked Earl Grey with some creamer in it, so I got you that too.”

I don't respond. My stomach churns just thinking about eating anything, especially from Knox. In this moment, I loathe him. I wish it was Knox on this table, cold and dead. Being in the room with him awakens all the anger and disgust I'd kept for the special people in my life. People like Patrick Hunt, Trevor Michaels, and Sebastian Heins. At least those three are dead. I still have to put up with this asshole and whatever torment he thinks I’m worthy of next. Being buried alive was never a fear of mine before, but now? I can almost taste the hot stale air as it grew thinner and hear the hum of the horrible silence bearing down on me. Nausea washes over me as I think about what Knox did to me.

To keep from spiraling, I make myself busy. Moving around the room, I head to the small storage unit and grab a flattened human-sized cardboard box. Carrying it over, I place it on thesecond embalming table—the one beside Trevor—and start to assemble it.

“I got one of those cheesy strudel things and ate it on the way back,” Knox says conversationally. “It was fucking delicious. So, I turned around and went back for three more. I have one left; I'll eat in here to keep you company. I already dropped off the others their breakfast. For future reference, Thatcher likes an everything bagel with jalapeño cream cheese and Sagan likes garlic bagels with plain cream cheese. Make sure to add a stick of gum to their breakfast because those are the smelliest?—”

“I’m not hungry. Now get out, I have work to do,” I cut him off sharply as the cardboard coffin starts to take shape. Once I’m done, I’ll use it to hold Trevor’s body while I roast him.

Knox sighs as he perches himself on the edge of the desk where I had been sitting only a few minutes before. He glances at the roses, sparing them a single appraising look before crossing one leg over the other and lifting a brow in my direction.

“Flowers, nice,” he says with approval. “Who was it? Thatcher or Sagan?”

When I don’t answer him, he heaves a heavy sigh.

“You’re seriously still pissed?” Knox tsks. “Come on, don’t be like this. It’s not like Thatcher didn’t warn you that there were rules, and you’d have to learn them the hard way. Now you know the one about privacy.”

“I didn’t realize that I’d have to nearly die to learn your stupid rules!” I hiss furiously between clenched teeth as I keep my eyes locked on my task. It’s better this way. With my eyes averted, Knox can’t see the angry tears welling up in them. “Why are you still here? What part of go away don’t you get?”

There’s a long, frustrated sigh before the rustling of a paper bag.

“I messed up, ok?” The next words are said through a mouth full of pastry. “I didn’t intend to leave you in there that long.I got caught up in my own head and didn’t realize how much time passed. I admit I went a little too far and I take full responsibility. What else do you want from me?”

It takes me a second to work the tension out of my jaw. When I do it’s to growl out, “I just told you what I wanted.”

“Besidesleaving,” Knox objects. “Doesn't a free breakfast sound like a great apology?”

“I don't want an apology. If I’ve learned anything living with an addict, I know words are hollow.” I shoot him a dark glare.

Knox’s eyes roll with exasperation. He opens his mouth to probably attempt to placate me, but I can’t deal with this right now. I just… can’t.

“This all might be a joke to you, or no big deal because—hey I didn't die—but it's a big deal tome, Knox. I've been fighting for so long—” My voice cracks as frustration and weariness combine to beat down on me. “—To just live a life where I'm not constantly looking over my shoulder to avoid being hurt. I thought, naively, that with you guys around it would be different. That I’d have people watching my back, but it looks like I’m back to square one.”

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