Page 97 of Entombed In Sin

“Put her on the floor,” Knox demands, grabbing it. “Let me just do some temporary patch work. I can do the stitches back at the house…” He grimaces as I kneel to place Beatrix on the ground and more blood wells up and out of her body. “Or in the car.”

The softest groan of pain slips past my stepsister’s lips, but then she falls silent. My heart shudders in pain, as if it's trying to absorb it from her. I wish that was possible. I would steal all of it if I could.

Sagan's footsteps are heavier than normal as he returns to the first floor. Rather than join us in the kitchen, he moves around in the other room. I ignore him. Whatever he’s up to can wait.

“Hold these,” Knox shoves some gauze at me. “I'm gonna try to clean the wounds out.”

I nod, watching as he gets to his feet and grabs a towel hanging off the faucet. It hits me then that he’s practically naked other than his sweatpants. Of course, I knew that. It’s hard to miss. But it’s hitting me now that he’s probably been partially dressed—easily accessible—this whole time. My eyes land on Beatrix’s completely naked body next. The burn of the bile slowly creeping up my throat is scalding. They both have been so vulnerable. As Knox wets the towel and lowers himself on the other side of Beatrix, I shove off my black hoodie. I throw it at Knox and he takes it only to toss the sweatshirt to the side.

“Later,” he murmurs, focused on cleaning Beatrix’s body.

“Did he… touch you?” I ask, my voice low and grim. I know his past wasn’t great, that people hurt him. It sickens me to think that he’s gone through that all over again.

Knox shakes his head. “They were using Beatrix’s body to try to start a family. They didn’t touch me except for this.” He points needlessly at his eye.

Knox's words don't process. At least not right away. They tumble and roll over in my head as I try to translate them. A full-body flinch ripples through me as I recoil from their meaning when they finally sink in. I stand in one fluid movement. For a second, I think I might throw up.

“Theywhat?”

Knox doesn’t repeat himself. He just finishes wiping the blood away from her wounds before grabbing the tape beside him and lifting a hand without looking at me.

“Gauze,” he orders.

I hand them over and he gets to work patching up my stepsister.

“If she’s…carrying—” I spit the word out with disgust. “—we’ll take care it.”

Knox nods, but remains silent. I don’t linger by his side. Fury and insanity collide, spurring me on to dosomethingto retaliate. My feet move, taking me toward my brother. It sounds like he’s lugging around a heavy suitcase or something as he moves. When I step into the family room, I find Sagan setting a body on one of the worn recliners. Judging by the dress, it’s Shannon’s, but without a head, I guess I can’t betoosure.

Sagan reaches down to pick up chains and a bloody mop of red hair resting by his feet. Oh,there’sShannon’s head. My brother works quickly. In less than a minute, he has Shannon’s head wrapped in the heavy metal links and dangling from the ceiling fan.

My brother looks at me, his gaze full of death.

“Turn it on,” he says in a deep growl.

I look over my shoulder and find the switch on the wall. My chuckle lacks any true amusement as I reach over and flip it on. Above us, the fan starts to turn. Blood leaking from Shannon’s head begins to fling against the furniture, floor, and walls. Sagan and I both grin at one another. Ok, maybe I feel just a tiny bit better.

Just as I turn to head back into the kitchen, the ring of a cell phone catches both of our attention. We freeze.

“It's in here!” Knox calls.

I hurry into the kitchen. Knox points with a bloody hand from the floor to the vibrating device sitting on top of a short bookshelf full of recipe books. Snatching it up, I read the name “Ronny” with a little heart emoji as it flashes on the screen. My heart flutters with cruel excitement.

Without hesitation, my thumb brushes over the green button and I bring the phone up to my ear.

“ShayShay, honey, can you give me a hand out here? I think I tweaked my back the last time I visited Beatrix.”

An icy blast of malice and revulsion erupts from the middle of my chest and reaches every inch of my body. I shiver under the wrath that pummels me. Hatred tastes like poison on my tongue. Heviolatedmy little stepsister and carved up my Pretty Boy.No onegets away with that. I glance at Sagan, who’s standing in the threshold of the kitchen, watching me. I nudge my head toward the family room and he nods, turning while he pulls his knife out and stalks toward the front door.

“Hello, Ronny, or should I call you Angel Eyes?” I greet, keeping my tone light.

There’s a short pause. I’m almost positive I can hear his gasp of horror before he asks, “Who the fuck?—”

“Oh, I think you know exactly who I am,” I cut off with a dark chuckle. “Or at least I would hope so, given you’ve been watching me and my family for a while.”

There’s another pause. I wait, patiently enjoying how I can almost hear the gears in his head turn as he panics. While I listen to the heavy silence, I saunter back into the family room to join Sagan, who’s lingering by the window, peering out between the blinds, watching our victim. As I come to stand in the middle of the room, a splatter of Shannon’s blood gently slaps across my face. The sound of a car door slamming shut in my ear is echoed just outside the house.

“Was there something I could help you with?” I ask after a moment when Angel Eyes says nothing.

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