Page 78 of Grave Possession

“Mhmm,” she coos.

“I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be tied up here. Want me to text you when I’m on my way?”

“No. Surprise me.”

A tortured groan escapes me, “You’re sure?” I ask. If she agrees, she has no idea what she’s in for.

“Positive.”

“Just remember you asked for this,” I say, preparing her mentally for anything I could throw her way. “I’ll see you later, little siren.”

“Wait!”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have a colour preference?” she asks.

Truthfully, I don’t. She’s breathtaking no matter what she wears because it’s her. Jefferds’s blood has seeped into the earth around my boots, and I remember her drenched in crimson. Much like I am now. “You look stunning in red,” I reply, knowing her mind won’t go to the same twisted places mine has.

“Sounds good, stud. I’ll see you soon. Toodles.”

“Bye, gorgeous.”

Maybe I won’t tell her I know about her homicidal tendencies. It would be so much more fun for me to keep that information to myself, and use it to make her squirm. The mind games came to an end when I pulled off the mask, revealing myself to her. But I have to keep the spark alive somehow. She’s evolved from a timid shell of a human into a strong, resilient, lethal goddess, and I’ll have to prove to her I’m worthy of knowing her secrets. I’m strong enough to bear that burden, and keep her safe as well as satiated and happy. My blood thirst may not match hers, but I won’t hesitate to gut anyone who stands in the way of her living the life she wants.

Looking back to the ground, I sigh. Why did I have to make such a fucking mess? Cracking my neck, I scan the area, looking for the best place to bury a body.

My abdomen screams in agony with every laboured breath I take, each step is like hauling my exhausted ass through a mud pit. Clearly, it’s time for me to get back on the treadmill, or Mallory will catch me embarrassingly quick the next time we play around in the woods.

Dragging the blood-smeared tarp and shovel behind me back to my truck, I catch my reflection in the window. My eye is swollen, as is my cheek, which isn’t all that bad. But, the amount of blood covering me from head to toe is going to be a problem.

I pull off my soiled uniform, stuffing it into the locking toolbox in the rear of my truck, along with myvest, shovel, and tarp. Grabbing a bottle of water and stack of fast food napkins from the glove box, I prep for clean-up. Uncapping the water, I bend at the waist and pour some of the contents over my hair. My abdominal wound revolts in agony as the water runs red, streaming off my face and into the gravel parking lot. A bone fragment dislodges itself from my shaggy hair, and falls to the ground as I scrub my scalp clean the best I can.

I shake the excess moisture from my hair then wash my face and neck with the remaining water and paper towel, using my reflection to see the best I can. Once satisfied this is as good as it’s going to get, I redress in my spare clothes: the black hoodie I haven’t worn since I took a step back from stalking Mallory so thoroughly, and the dark black jeans from our first intimate night together. She watched me jerk off to her all wet and needy for me, and then I came, smeared it on the window, and left. The memory of her frustrated scowl still makes malicious intent thump to the cock between my legs. Fuck, focus, Graves.

I push my hair back from my face and slide the CCPD cap on my head backwards. Grabbing the jerry can from the back of my vehicle, I pour gas over the blood in the parking lot, corrupting any samples before they can be destroyed by the elements.

Content with my crime scene clean up, I slide behind the wheel of Jefferds’s Ford Mustang, and take off in the direction of Graham’s junkyard. While he runs a mechanic shop out of his house, he has a demolition and auto salvage yard not too far out of town. It’sconveniently close to this abandoned hiking area though, which works out great for me.

Before dragging Jefferds’s body away, I went to remove the battery from the vehicle tracking system, only to find out it was missing. Something told me he was up to some shady business, because why else disable the system that will help you find a stolen vehicle? I smashed his phone until it resembled a warped piece of metal. Popping the trunk to toss it in, I find my hunch was undoubtedly correct. Jefferds was a dirty cop in one way or another. Pistols, assault rifles, and other weapons litter the trunk. Examining them solidified my suspicion even more because the serial numbers are filed off.

Pulling out my phone, I call Graham. He answers on the first ring. Clearly very busy. “Hey, bud. You at the shop or the junkyard?”

“I just left the shop, headed to the scrap pile now. Why?” he asks.

“Great, meet you there.”

Click.

Thirty minutes later, Graham is pulling up behind me, his olive coloured Chevrolet 2500 dually pulling a large trailer with a destroyed SUV attached to it. He jumps out to unlock the gate, assessing me coldly as he passes. Aqua eyes narrowing, he frowns at me as the keys jingle in his heavily tattooed hand. His short, dark auburn beard doesn’t hide his sour expression. He’s not happy with me, and he doesn’t even know what I’ve done.

I slide out of the car, and make my way over to him, “Do me a favour and turn off the cameras?”

An exasperated huff leaves him as he pulls off his cap,running his rough hands through his dark, wavy shag. “G, what the fuck is this? Whose car is that?” He gestures towards the cherry coloured sports car, hat in hand, before slipping it back on his head backwards.

“I think it’s better if you don’t know anything.”

“Can you at least tell me why you’re here?”

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