Page 16 of Entombed In Sin

Knox huffs angrily as he continues to talk. “I’m not going down for killing that bastard. If this bites us in the ass, we should pin this on your sister?—”

“Knox,” I snap, trying to shut him up, but it’s already too late. The damage has been done.

Beatrix comes to a halt at the start of the hallway. Her mask slips away as her mouth pops open, and her eyes widen with shock.

“Excuse me?” she whispers, aghast.

The other two whirl around while I internally groan. My pet’s eyes flash and her body stiffens dramatically. The dark, roiling storm of murderous fury that she managed to conceal earlier this morning is back, thicker and more potent than ever.

“Little Viper,” I start, stepping toward Beatrix.

She takes a step back—her nose wrinkling in disgust and indignation. Immediately, my cock twitches and glee wiggles through my veins. I suck in a deep breath and warn her this one time, “I would advise against running from me.”

“If I don’t run, then I’m getting pinned with murder charges, though, right?” she snaps back, taking another step away.

Knox takes two steps past me, toward Beatrix, and says hastily, “I was just joking, Starr Girl. That’s not how we do things. We won’t?—”

“Idon’t believe you!”

She screeches in a pitch so high I’m surprised the glass in the front doors don’t shatter. Knox flinches. Beatrix continues after glaring at the three of us. “I won’t go to jail because of?—”

“No oneis getting arrested or being pinned with this,” Thatcher says sharply. “Beatrix, Knox was just joking. It’s how he handles stress. No one is going down for a well-deserved murder. Knox.” My brother glares at him. “Tell our sister what our fallback plan is in case we do end up under the scrutiny of law enforcement so that she understands where we stand on this matter.”

Knox nods frantically. “Yeah, it's super simple—we off ourselves. We’ll drink the Kool-Aid together, and then we’re golden. No one gets dragged to prison or forced in front of a judge that way.”

Horror replaces Beatrix’s anger, at least for the moment. Her eyes bounce between the three of us. She sucks in a sharp breath, then slowly shakes her head.

“I need to get back to work,” she mutters, her expression shuttering off to hide whatever she doesn’t want us to see. She turns and scurries back down the hallway.

“Beatrix!” Thatcher calls after her.

He’s ignored and our stepsister disappears, deep into the heart of the funeral home.

“Fuck, why can’t I keep my big mouth shut?” Knox whines and throws his hands up in the air.

“I’m wondering the same thing right now,” I tell him, shooting him a dark look.

“Now she’s never going to forgive me, and my cock is going to be cagedforever!” Knox complains as he moves to go after her, but I grab his arm.

“You’re the last person she wants to see,” I tell him. “Leave her alone right now.”

Thatcher reaches up and rakes his fingers through his hair. “I’ll go talk to her in a bit.”

“What about our other problem? Someone knows we killed Trevor. We need to do something,” I demand.

There’s no way in hell someone followed me to the bridge. I would’ve noticed. Yet that’s the only plausible answer. How else would someone know to bring the eyes back here? I slipped up somewhere along the way. I need to make it right.

“We donothing,” Thatcher objects vehemently. “If someone wanted to hold this over our head, they would’ve left a note. The eyes were either a warning or a taunt. We’ll be smarter moving forward. First things first. Sagan, you're going to install cameras around the house and funeral home.”

I look at my brother, wondering when his final screw fell loose. Cameras? On the house? I might as well just murder a fucker in front of a police station.

“I can set them up on a special server. That way no one can hack into them,” Knox grumbles, shoving his hands into hispants pockets. “But for the record, having cameras on the place where we plan to bring back the bodies we want to dispose of sounds idiotic.”

Thatcher nods, but he holds my gaze, “Duly noted, Knox.”

“I don’t like this,” I tell him grimly.

Thatcher shrugs. “It’s the only way we’ll know if we’re being watched.”

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