Page 75 of Savage Scream

My heart soars when he uses my real name. It somehow means more to me than ever before, and I grin, claiming his lips as our bodies quickly sync up, coming together in a wanton craze.

Over and over we thrust, and over and over our cries fill the crimson space of room eight as we turn frenzied.

I grind my clit over his pubic bone as we thrust, loving the texture of his hair covering that area, and I quickly feel myself spiral.

“Fuck. Yes.” Jared pants before he bites my neck lightly, and just like that, I start convulsing around him.

The roar that flies from him is loud and animalistic. The sound calling to me in a primal way before an ache settles in my chest.

I think I love him.

I think I’ve actually fallen in love with a guy I have to leave next week.

How fucking cruel is that?

23

JARED

It’s business as usual for Dee after we leave the Red Room, her lethal demeanour falling easily into place as we take one of Griffin’s cars and cross more names off that damn list she has. Eight names, to be exact.

Eight fucking names.

Eight fucking kills.

I don’t know how she does it. It’s almost like she detaches herself from what’s going on, which I guess is a good thing. If she enjoyed it too much, I’d probably be concerned.

On the way to the first kill of the night, we’d argued because I wanted to come inside each location with her, but she refused again saying I would be a distraction and she didn’t want to worry about me while she was trying to take a life. Then she also pointed out that she needs eyes outside in case there’s another ambush from who we assume are Carnal Unicorn members trying to protect their secrets.

I couldn’t really argue with that, so as she went into each building, I waited in the darkness of the shadows outside, keeping watch.

Did I obey that rule completely?

No, I fucking did not.

Why? Because I’m a nosey bastard, and also I can’t help but enjoy watching her kill.

It’s weird to think that way, I know, but I do. I really fucking do.

It’s almost like watching her dance. There’s an air of captivation to it. The way she moves almost like she is gliding, the precision in the way she wields that fucking Crocodile Dundee blade. It’s truly a sight.

So yeah. I stayed outside, but I still watched the few times I could, through a door or a window. And yeah, my cock was hard all fucking night.

After victim number eight, we drove the car back to the location Griffin had left it in, Dee changing from her kill clothes—that’s what she calls them—to her regular clothes.

Her kill clothes get shoved in a plastic bag and left in the car for Griffin to dispose of. Something that makes me fucking uncomfortable.

Who’s to say he actually gets rid of them? He could be keeping them to use against Dee later on. But when I bring this up to her, she shakes her head and dismisses it, trusting the criminal who blackmailed her, us, into doing his dirty work for him.

By the time we leave Redfield, where all tonight’s kills happened, and get back to the Rogan residence in Fox Pines, it’s nearly 5am.

Dee quietly takes a shower while I slide into her bed and wait, and when she joins me ten minutes later, we both lie in the silence, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“Where did you get the knife from?” I ask her, not able to sleep.

“Thana,” she says, and I frown.

“You got the knife from Thana? What or who is that?”

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