Page 67 of Grave Love
He told me to beg himnotto kill me. He wanted me to beg for my life. If we bathe in anyone’s blood, it should be mine.
But right now, all I want is Blaze.
“Please,” I cry out. “Please. I’m begging you.”
“Give it to me, you little cunt,” he growls as he chokes me.
My vision goes blank. I forget about everything that led to this moment. About the fact that I was supposed to remind him. About the fact that I used to dream about dying more than I dreamed about the future. About the fact that I just begged to come and begged for mylife.I let go, giving into pleasure, knowing that this is what I need. This is exactly how I want to spend the rest of my days, doing horrible things with someone who sees me. Who wants me. The real me. Someone who needs me too.
Blaze won’t accept any less.
Chapter24
Blaze
I whistle to myself,my fingers thrumming with vibrations, telling myself everything is fine. That this was a part of my plan: bleaching the tiles, soaking up the last bits of evidence from that fiendish blood bath, letting Ren sleep back in the safety of her grandmother’s house.
But it’s a lie.
I’m cleaning up after our mess. It’s the exact opposite of what I wanted from her.
I need to get her out of my system. Right fuckingnow.
The day passes. Another shift. I ignore Ren, trying to convince myself that she doesn’t exist. By the time evening comes, I have a new goal.
My fifth will be a random woman. A stranger like Ren was supposed to be. Killing and fucking this worthless stranger will cure me of my madness. I don’t needRen.I need ahole.Any corpse will do. I could fuck a man’s skull for all I care. And if the bitch doesn’t part her legs, then I’ll rip them clean off.
So why is Ren still here?
I dismiss the thought and focus on my new purpose. I recline against a condo building across the street from the beach. A cigarette in my mouth, looking the part as I exhale into the night air. It’s too early for the true Spring Break crowds, but there are a few college co-eds gathering in the area, hoping to score better deals on the vacation rentals.
On the ground level, an oyster shack with two-dollar well drinks sits directly across from the condo building, right on the beach, which makes this particular set of rentals appealing to the younger crowd. The partiers.
Women like my first.
A set of college co-eds who aren’t old enough to be drinking stumble out of their rental. The brunette whistles at me, and I send a bashful smile back.
“You want to come with us?” the brunette asks. “We have a thirty-rack. You can—”
“Bitch, he looks like a murderer,” her blond friend says. “Let’s go.”
Laughter erupts from them, and I force a placating, nervous smile. The friend is blond, like Ithoughtmy usual type would be. The brunette is closer to what I’m looking for tonight. Not close enough though.
Hours pass. I smoke to pass the time. Then, around two a.m., a young woman with black, shoulder-length hair staggers out of her condo. An ice bucket clutched in her hands, her steps swaggering like she’s trying to be sexy. She passes me; coconut and hyacinth wafting in the air around her, her body spray too fragrant to truly entice me. She glances over her shoulder and bats her eyelashes at me, probably wondering if I can tell that she’s drunk.
It’s her. She’s my fifth.
She leans down, then stumbles slightly before resting her hand on the ice machine and pressing the red button. The machine rumbles. Ice spills out, clanking into the bucket. She doesn’t hear me coming.
I stab the needle into her neck. She crumbles into my arms like a rag doll. I scoop her up and adjust her head so that it’s resting on my chest, like a protective boyfriendoughtto carry his girlfriend.
In the parking lot, a security guard half my age points his flashlight toward me.
“Where are you two going?” he asks in a forced, gruff voice. “You two all right over there?”
“My girlfriend got real sick, sir,” I say in my thickest southern drawl. “Gotta take her back to ‘Bama, officer.”
The guard nods, pleased to hear me call him “officer.” A little flattery, and he’s willing to look the other way. What a goddamn joke.
