Page 172 of Property of Necro
Abort. Abort.
“Nothing. I said nothing,” I recover in the worst recovery of the history of the world. My voice shakes, and I step back, knocking my leg into the desk chair.
“Red.” He advances on me in the tiny space, and I skirt past him to stare at the wall. It’s a nice wall—purple and stuff. Wood. It’s made of wood.
“I didn’t say it,” I whisper, clutching the overly nice chicken to my chest like a lifeline.
Sliding up behind me, fitting his front to my back, Rot’s heat seeps through my dress, but it does nothing to calm my frazzled nerves. “You did.” He rests his hands on my shoulders and rubs them, gently, patiently.
“It was a slip of the tongue.”
“Hey,” he soothes. “That’s okay. I love you, too. I love you so fuckin’ much. I want this for you. Coffin and Necro do, too. Even if Coffin’s dogshit at showin’ it.” Rot spins me around to face him, and I do, reluctantly.
“You love me? Like for real?” A single tear drips down my cheek. Nobody has ever said that to me before, and not used it as a weapon to hurt me. This doesn’t feel that way. Rot wouldn’t do that. His eyes are soft around the edges. His lips tipped in a sweet smile.
“Yes. Of course.” He brushes the backs of his fingers across the apple of my cheek, and I shiver. “I wouldn’t have jumped in that grave to save you if I didn’t.”
“But that was your fault.” I arch a brow to deflect from what’s going on.
“Sorta. Yeah.” Rot’s smile spreads until it lights his entire face. “But I still did it. Because I love you, and I want you to be alive and stuff. Listen, I know we can be a lot. So, this is yours.” He lifts his chin at the shed. “You can escape us anytime you wanna come here, commune with nature, and play with your chickens. Doug already said he’d help look after them. Mama will love the fresh eggs.”
Wow. They’ve thought of everything. This is a lot, and I don’t deserve any of it. Not really. I’m just a girl—a girl who was given to them what feels like forever ago. But I can’t say that to Rot. He’d find some way to prove I’m wrong, and it would include his mouth and cock, and a yearlong scolding for ever believing I’m not worthy. So, I deflect instead, for both our sakes.
“Can we not feed them dead rapists?” I plead, jutting out a pouty bottom lip, in hopes my poor chickens don’t have to endure the horror.
Grinning at me, Rot pats the chicken’s head. “They’ll be fed whatever Doug decides.”
“Ugh. Fine,” I relent. “‘Cause I don’t know shit about taking care of chickens.” If they eat the dead men and I eat their eggs, does that mean I also eat the men, too? I’m trying to avoid this, but so far it hasn’t worked out all that well.
“Yeah. Neither do any of us. Which is why Doug’s the man, and they’re your pets.”
“Is this what you meant about owning chickens last night?” I ask.
“Yep. It kinda slipped out. Thankfully, you were too distracted by our cocks to ask me about it.” Rot winks.
I roll my eyes, and he swipes his thumbs underneath them to remove the stray tears before jerking his chin toward the exit. I follow him out.
Necro and Coffin are both holding chickens when we join them, and it might be one of the cutest sights I’ve ever beheld.
“I’m namin’ this one, Big Booty,” Coffin announces, turning the chicken around to show us how fluffy her rump is. Is that what they call a chicken’s butt? I have no idea. But he is right. It’s big, white, and fluffy.
“What is it with you and butts?” I tease.
“Have you seen yours?”
“In the mirror.”
“Then I rest my case.”
“Wait. What case?”
He likes your ass,Necro signs.
“I gathered that.” I chuckle.
“I don’t like it. I love it,” Coffin announces.
“Then tell her.” Rot takes Big Booty from Coffin’s arms and nudges him toward me.
