Page 27 of The Devil and I
Heading back inside, I continue to function on auto-pilot as I clean the cabin. It takes several long hours, but I get it done. By the time I'm finished, it looks very close to how it did when I first arrived. There are some new stains, but all of this will one day burn to ash in a controlled fire. That's a problem for another day, however. Now, it's time to break the hold my inner darkness has on me and get back home.
I strip out of my hoodie and the pants I am wearing and head out back, tossing them into the fire pit and lighting it up. I stand here and wait while it burns away. Once it's done, I pour some water over the fire and let the ashes drain out into the grass.
I can hear the sounds of creatures moving in the shadows, out past where I dumped the body. The smell of blood is heavy in the air, and before the sun rises Mark will have drawn the local predators in.
I head back to my car and pull out a spare pair of pants, along with another dark hoodie. Clothes I've stashed away so that my car isn't soaked in blood during the drive back. I get dressed quickly, then get into my vehicle. The drive home will be relaxing, thankfully. I feel peaceful, lighter, and eerily content. The light of the sun is beginning to peek over the horizon, turning the inky blue of night to something a little brighter.
Chapter Seventeen
Rayna
The morning light that pulls me from sleep is beautiful, painting the bedroom in tones of blue and peach. When I open my eyes, I immediately search for Lucas. Finding his side of the bed cold and empty makes me feel exceptionally lonely. I have gotten so used to the heat of his body, and the way he holds me close, as if he is afraid I'll slip away while he sleeps. Waking up without him leaves me feeling lost adrift in an endless sea.
I roll over, squinting against the bright morning light pouring in from the window behind the bed. My hand reaches for the bed-side table, feeling around the cool wood surface in search of the cell phone kept there. Memories of our late-night phone call race to the forefront of my mind, and I can't help but smile in remembrance. I instantly remember his threats, and a responding heat rushes to the apex of my thighs.
I sigh happily, grabbing the phone. I sit up slowly, stretching out the stiffness from a night of deep sleep, as the silky bed sheets gather around my hips. When I flick the phone screen on, it vibrates, indicating a waiting text message. I open it up with another smile.
Almost home, baby.
Leaving the phone on the bed, I quickly slip out and make my way to the bathroom with a bounce in my step. I wasn't sure exactly when he'd be home, but I was grateful it was soon. I can't imagine spending the whole day hanging around his house without him, trying to make time pass faster until he got back home.
I use the bathroom, freshening up and brushing my teeth before heading back out to the bedroom. On my way to the bedroom door, I lean down and snatch the phone up to take it with me, just in case another message comes through.
Walking into the kitchen always makes me feel good in the morning. The light from the big window makes the kitchen look so open and inviting. The birds are already flitting around the feeders that Lucas left full for them, singing pretty songs I can faintly hear despite the windows being closed. I walk straight over to the kettle, fill it up, and turn it on to make some tea. I find my favourite brown mug, pop a tea bag in, and wait. I can't help but open up his message again, eager for him to get home, wanting to see what time it was sent. An hour ago. Hopefully that means he will be here any minute. As I wait for the kettle to finish boiling my water, I type a text back to him.
I'm waiting in the kitchen with some tea. Can't wait to see you.
I hit send and turn my attention out the window, wondering if Lucas has managed to get any sleep last night. One thing leads to another, and I am contemplating what business had him out of the house all night without being able to give me any details. Maybe he was working undercover, or taking out some big name criminal somewhere. The truth is, even though we've been together every hour of the day for the last week, we still don't know everything there was to know about each other. Lucas is an enigmatic man, and I'm sure he has a ton of secrets left for me to discover.
The sound of the kettle finishing its boil pulls me from my thoughts, so I fill my mug with water and float the tea bag so it can steep. I pull a second mug down and set it aside, in case Lucas needs some caffeine when he gets home.
Grabbing my mug to warm my hands, I walk around the island and set it down next to where I plan to sit. I hop up on the counter with my back to the kitchen so I can see down the hallway in the direction of the front door. Minutes pass by as I wait, my feet swinging as I sip my tea and watch the birds out the window.
The sound of the garage door opening pulls me from my quiet reverie, and my heart starts to beat faster. It doesn't feel like he has been gone for as long as he has, but I am still eager to see him again. I can recognize the co-dependency from a mile away, but I am helpless against it. It is easy to attach myself to Lucas. He is safe, he brings me nothing but pleasure, and he truly cares about me. Just how much is evident in the way he takes care of me every single day without asking for anything in return.
When the door leading from the garage to the house opens, a smile spreads across my face. It drops off immediately as soon as Lucas steps into view, his gaze cast towards the floor. He looks tired, his black hair is messy, as if he has been dragging his hands through it all night. He looks incredibly intimidating, dressed in all black. He is covered in what looks like dirt, but it only seems to add to his rugged and rough appearance. Despite looking like he just walked off the battlefield, he is unfairly handsome.
“Lucas?” I call out to him, since he seems a little dazed. When he lifts his eyes to mine, my heart nearly stops. His eyes are tired, but they are so intensely grey that they nearly glow silver. It's almost too difficult to hold his gaze. I fight the urge to drop my eyes. He holds me captive in his stare the same way he commands everything in his life, with unyielding authority. My fingertips ache to touch the rough stubble covering his jaw, but more than anything I want to offer myself up to him like a sacrifice. My lips part on a breathy sigh, and the subtle sound seems to flip some sort of switch in him.
Lucas drops the dark bag he is carrying and lunges towards me. When he reaches the island I'm perched on, he shoves my legs apart and forces his big body between them. The mug of tea I am holding falls from my hand and goes crashing to the floor. It doesn't shatter, to my surprise, but the remnants of my tea spill from the cup.
Without a single word, he wraps one hand in my hair and pulls my mouth to his. Our lips clash roughly, his tongue sweeping into my mouth mercilessly to take possession of me. I squeak from the sudden intensity, but it is chased away quickly by a throaty moan.
Lucas conquers my mouth and takes control of my body effortlessly, pulling me closer with his other arm wrapped around my body. His kiss is so intense my lips feel bruised, and when he finally pulls away, I'm panting from the vicious surge of arousal he's left me with.
The hand settled against the base of my skull holds me tightly, long strands of my hair wrapped around his fist. It's almost painful, but my pussy doesn't seem to mind. I'm already wet, desperate for him to finish what he started with his forceful kiss.
With him this close to me, the dirt scattered across his body no longer looks like dirt. I lift a hand to touch the splatter of reddish brown across his jaw line, and he watches me closely as I touch the marks. It's mostly dry, but when I pull my hand away there is some stuck to my fingers. I bring it to my nose, and a metallic scent floods my senses. Dried blood. I drop my hand and narrow my eyes slightly, concern painted across my features. Lucas's expression doesn't change, nor does his breathing even out.
“What happened, Lucas?” I ask softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
“He's dead,” he replies simply. His voice is roughened from lack of sleep, but there is something else in his tone that I can't quite decipher.
“W-who?” Fear creeps up from the pit of my stomach and promises he made to me in heated moments rush through my mind. Did he kill someone? Anxiety strikes like lightning, and I am suddenly trying to wrap my arms around myself for self preservation.
“Don't,” he growls, his voice like an earthquake threatening to turn my world upside down. Both of his hands abandon their positions to pull my arms away from my body, not allowing me to retreat into myself. “He deserved to die for what he's done.”
“N-now they'll t-take you away.” The idea of spending the rest of my life without this man, despite the short time we've been together, made me want to die all over again. One of my hands slips into the other, and I find my fingers traveling up my forearm to bother the edges of the bandage still covering the result of my suicide attempt.
