Page 49 of Entombed In Sin

Me: I’ll take care of them

Jakob: Give me the info, Angel

Rather than respond to the leader of the macabre gang, I flip the phone shut and shove it into my back pocket. I’m not afraid of Jakob or his crew. They don’t know who I am or where I live. The occasional reminder that I know wheretheyreside, and what I’m capable of, keeps them under my control.

I lick my dry lips. My heart hammers away as thoughts of the Hunt twins drive me into a murderous rage.

I let these serial killers play house for far too long while I let mine fall to the wayside. My Old Lady is upstairs, wasting away thanks to my failures. I can’t keep letting her down. I won’t. All I need to do is get rid of these four, and I can go back to the peaceful life we’ve had and focus on making my ShayShay happy.

How did the Hunt twins manage to get everything they’ve ever wanted? The answer comes easily. They wished upon a shooting Starr. Maybe that’s what I need to do. Maybe the Starr is exactly what I need to focus on. She’s been the center of their attention since they arrived. I can see why now. She’s a young woman, sweet and unsuspecting. She balances the trio perfectly.

Young and sweet…

Those words echo in my head. A light bulb flickers on in my head. It disperses the dark rage and brightens the path to a clear future. A smile pulls at the corners of my lips. It’s slow in coming, but is pinned firmly into place once it arrives.

I hurry through the house, too excited to keep still. When I get to the landing of the stairs, I call up, “Shannon, darling, I just figured out the answer to our prayers!”

There’s no response. I didn’t think there would be. Not with how deeply depressed my Old Lady is. But I’ve figured this out. My idea will drag her out of her despondency, fix our problem, and make our future brighter. I just need to get everything set up.

“I’ll be in the basement if you need me!”

I don’t wait for an answer. My feet are already moving toward the basement door as excitement sizzles in my veins.

17

KNOX

The coffee reaches every part of my soul and wakes me up, causing my body to tingle pleasantly. Or maybe it’s all the sugar I’ve poured into it. Either way, I needed this.

“We should make having breakfast delivered here every morning part of our routine. You know, like an employee benefit or some shit. We can write it off as an expense. Maybe then I’d be down here with all you morning people more often,” I tell Starr Girl as I kick my feet up on the desk in the office down in Bright Starr. “Hell, I’ll even be the one to place the order the night before.”

“I think that’s up to Thatcher,” Beatrix murmurs as she uses the company laptop to read over the morning’s emails from vendors and clients. While she works, she picks at a blueberry muffin, eating small bites like a bird.

I snort. “Thatcher can shove it. If we want breakfast like this, we’ll just do it. And if he wants food, he’ll just go along with it.”

“I bought it this morning—this isn’t company money. Thatcher laid out a budget?—”

“Budget-smudget,” I cut her off. “Thatcher can readjust the numbers.”

A reserved, sweet smile curves the corners of her mouth as she works. “Then you can be the one to bring it up to him.”

I study her face. Last night, her smiles were the biggest I’ve seen her wear. The shy young woman with a somber energy has a wild side I thoroughly enjoyed. She said she didn’t forgive me, but there doesn’t appear to be any animosity lingering between us now or any hostility in her expression. That’s got to be a good sign, right?

“You know, we can go out again tonight,” I offer, then suck down the rest of my coffee. I groan as the warmth of it seeps into me. “We didn’t get you a kill.”

She glances up at me, her eyelashes fluttering as she studies my face.

“I didn’t know if you’d be up to going out again so soon,” she says.

I wave a hand dismissively. “Trust me, nights are my thing. Well, no, that’s not true.Killingis my thing. But being out at night is a close second. I want to make sure the slate between us is clean and that we’re good.”

Pushing the laptop away from her, Starr Girl leans back in her seat and meets my gaze. “May I ask you something?”

I place my empty cup on the desk and throw my arms out wide. “I’m an open book. Ask away.”

Starr Girl doesn’t voice her question right away. Instead, she folds her hands into her lap and looks down to stare at them. I lean back in my seat. My shoulders and legs feel heavy today. Maybe we shouldn’t go out to kill tonight. If I’m not at my best, the tables could turn and a night of fun could quickly go in another direction. The victims could fight back and win. Or worse, they can escape to finger me later for the crime. I willnotbe going to jail. I can’t imagine a life that consists of bar soap, a five thread count for sheets, and a bunk bed situation. I’d rather take death.

“Why did you go looking for Thatcher and Sagan after they tried to kill you?”

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