Page 20 of Entombed In Sin

I look over at Beatrix. Her breath turns to mist in front of her face as her shoulders come up to her ears. The riding jacket should be warm enough, but we won’t be outside too much longer.

“Do you suppose we’ll see a ghost tonight?” I ask.

“Stop it,” she hisses, but it’s followed by the softest of giggles. The sound is short-lived but the purity of it causes my chest to tighten and warm unexplainably.

Wanting to hear more of her mirth, I add, “I don’t think my knife would do much to stop it from taking us to hell, but I suppose I could take a stab at it.”

Beatrix laughs loudly. The sound bounces off the trees around us. I yank her into my chest and slap my hand over her mouth, hating that I have to cut such an amazing sound short. She peers up at me with amusement twinkling in her eyes. I don’t even realize I’m smiling until I open my mouth to speak.

“Stay quiet, Little Viper. There may not be ghosts haunting this town, but there are certainly a fewlivingindividuals who have remained and wouldn’t appreciate our snooping.”

This news sobers her up. Beatrix’s hand comes up so her fingers can wrap around my wrist. I allow her to move my hand away only so that I can wrap it around her neck.

“Whyarewe here, Sagan?” she asks me softly. The amusement in her eyes blinks out of existence as she studies my face. “Did you bring me here to kill me?”

Her question, spoken with solemnity and no fear, tells me just how far I’ve lost her trust. She expects her death by my hand. Has already accepted it. Fuck, it’s like a dagger in my chest. For a second, I can’t breathe. The thought of killing my pet is so repugnant that I’d rather gut myself before I snuffed out her life.

“Why would you think that?” I ask her, my voice strained.

Beatrix brows pinch together and pull upward. In her eyes sits devastation and heavy defeat. The steadfast adoration and undeserved trust that typically shine up at me are nowhere to be seen. A sharp pang strikes me straight in the chest. The pain of it is unexpected, and I choke down a grunt while my throat constricts. What is this feeling? It’s alien and uncomfortable. I don’t like it at all. Is it… guilt? Shame? Some combination of both? I’ve never let anyone who relied on me down before. Not until Beatrix. The foreign feeling in my chest grows.

Ah, I know what this is—it’sfailure.

The realization comes on swiftly and it’s a bitter pill to swallow. I might not be my pet’s knight in shining armor, but Iwas sure I could be the devil whose very presence could keep any danger to her at bay. I never considered that the danger would come from my inner circle, as small as it is.

Beatrix studies me closely. There’s no fear in her eyes. In fact, there’s a small flicker of a challenge there, as if she’s considering striking first before I can snuff out her life. Oh fuck… it’s so hot to see death simmering in her pretty amber eyes. I know then that I will forever rue the day I failed this deceptively sweet viper.

“Because I said I won’t take the fall for Trevor.” Her voice is low but steady as she answers me.

Fucking Knoxand his big mouth.

I shake my head and reply, “No one is taking the rap for that idiot. The cops will never know about our involvement, Little Viper, and whoever is fucking with us will get caught and be dealt with.”

I can see she doesn’t believe me. It's in the way her eyes slide away from my face and the stiff set of her shoulders. The pain in my chest intensifies tenfold. I pull Beatrix closer to my side. She looks back up at me, her eyes wide and wary.

“If we wanted you dead, you would be a rotting corpse by now, Little Viper. But you are one of us, and that means we look out for one another,” I tell her. “If something happens to one of us, it happens to all of us.”

Her lashes flutter as her expression closes off. The distrust we’ve sewn into my pet runs strong. It’s taken root and burrowed deep. Setting my shoulders, I consider the weeding I’ll have to do in order to remove it. There’s no way in hell that I’ll allow one mistake to fuck this up for all of us.

“Then why are we here?” she asks.

“To give you an opportunity to strike without regret.” Rather than answer the questions that begin to bubble up in her eyes, I cut her off. “You’ll see what I mean shortly, Little Viper.”

With that, I step away and continue onward. Beatrix sticks close but falls slightly behind. I don’t know if it’s from fear or trepidation. Neither one will do this evening. She’ll get what she needs off her chest and then can we move on from Knox’s blunder—both of them—and maybe help distract her from the pain of her friend’s cowardly confession. My pet has reached her limit. She will snap if I don’t help her now.

A few minutes pass before we get to the end of the woods. We stop just behind the last row of trees, lingering in the shadows. Across a poorly maintained front yard sits a small, uninteresting cookie-cutter suburban home. The lights in the back of the house are on, but the front is dark. There is only one car in the driveway tonight. The little pickup truck has seen better days.

“Wait here,” I warn Beatrix.

Without waiting for her to respond, I break through the trees, heading straight for the little truck. Pulling out my knife, I bend down and slash the first tire. I’m quick as I stab the others, making the truck useless. When I’m finished, I glance at the house. It’s still dark. I can’t detect any movement, but I don’t expect to see any. The two that live here are busy, as they always are every Thursday evening.

My head swings in the direction of the trees where Beatrix is lingering. Though where she stands casts her shadows, making her invisible, I can feel her gaze drilling into me. I nudge my head toward the house.

There’s a pause. I can almost imagine Beatrix standing there, wringing her hands together as she contemplates what sheshoulddo and whatIwant her to do. A moment later, she steps out of the darkest of shadows and hurries over to me. As she comes to my side, I place my hand along her lower back and guide her toward the front door. When we get there, I reach for the doorknob.

Beatrix’s hand shoots out and catches my wrist. She gives me an incredulous look as she tries to yank it back. I shake her off and open the door. The soft groan as it swings open causes my Little Viper to stiffen. Grabbing her wrist, I pull her into the house with me.

Inside stinks like mildew and food that’s been spoiled for months. I can feel Beatrix’s shiver of revulsion through the hand I hold as we slink through the living room and dining room where the stench grows more foul. The inside of the house is sparse, with little to no furniture in either room, no pictures on the walls or trinkets on end tables. The carpet is well worn but does a decent job of muffling our footsteps.

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