Page 41 of Grave Love
“I just told you I fucked and killed my own mother, then fucked her corpse.”
It’s so far away from my own experiences that it’s hard to accept it as fact. Or maybe I’m numb to everything in this world, and I’m glad to hear his messed-up story. It’s comforting, in a way. We’re more alike than I thought.
“You aren’t disturbed by me,” he says.
“Why would I be?”
He chuckles slightly. “Youintrigue me, Ren.”
My throat tightens, my breath hitching in my throat. His pale eyes hold me, captivating me, keeping me pinned in place. I bite my bottom lip, longing for his mouth, for his hand around my throat.
His tongue flickers across his teeth as he watches me.
“At least I interest someone,” I say quietly, playing it off like a self-deprecating joke.
“Do you kill people while you fuck them?” he asks. I stifle a laugh, then shake my head. He grabs my chin, his eyes flickering across mine, making sure that I’m focused on him. “Then you’renotthat fucked up.”
He lets go. I rub my face, my skin melting from his touch. It’s unnatural how much I want him, even after this. There’s no judgment between us, because we’re both fucked up.
It’s liberating.
“I didn’t realize it was a competition,” I say, my voice raspy, a hint of flirtation mixed in my tone.
“You want your prize, little corpse?” he asks. “Will that make you happy?”
Happy.
The feeling always eludes me. Happiness is a construct of our society, and yet it’s what every person reaches for. Happiness. The ultimate dream. Success. A family. A life partner that will make you feel loved until the day you die.
The word “happy” coming from Blaze—it’s like he knows what I’m thinking about.
My fucked up, pleasure-filled death.
His eyes glimmer, like he’s holding my own torture in front of me. A reward. A treat for a pet. A trained animal. A rat collared and caged, bound to him.
I don’t care if that’s all I am to him.
I want to feelhimcome while I die. I want to know that I had something to give before I let go and never think again. I want to feel powerful.Free.Even if I only feel it as I’m dying.
Blaze steps closer, the distance narrowing between us. The air in my lungs thins, my pulse increases. His fingertips skim over my hoodie, and even though there’s fabric between us, goosebumps flutter across my neck, so in tune with his touch.
There’s something about Blaze that’s different. Something that’s mesmerizing. Even when I’m at home, I think about death, but I don’t only wish for it lately; I wish for Blaze too. I anticipate his next move. I wait forhisfinal touch.
I roll my shoulders and peer at the timer on the retort’s control panel. I want to pretend like he doesn’t have that much power over me. But inside, I know how much I want to surrender to him again.
“You’re such an asshole,” I whisper.
His fingers dance up my arm and snake past the opening of my hoodie, tickling my neck. My pussy constricts, and the bruises throb with pain. The core of my body heats.
Denise’s signature heels clack down the corridor.
“Ren? Have you seen Blaze?” she asks. “We need him in the garden.”
Blaze steps back with a wink, then disappears down the hallway. He greets Denise, chatting playfully with her, and he soundsnormal.Like he’s not hiding this screwed-up past. It’s confusing, and…intriguing. He doesn’t let those memories stop him.
I grab the mug of coffee; the steam is gone now.
I glimpse back at the empty doorway. Denise gives Blaze instructions, like this is any other day.
