Page 217 of Soul So Dark
I cup the sides of his face and lean into his embrace, running my tongue over his with a deep kiss.
“But, more importantly,” he presses his forehead against mine, his tone turning serious, “are you alright?”
I know what he’s asking. Maybe this was irresponsible of me, and maybe I was blinded by my own vengeful ideations, but I still asked him to do it—to walk the razor’s edge and pretend to do what Bowen did.
“Yes,” I reply softly, “because I asked you to. And I liked whenyoudid it. I liked ita lot.”
“I’ll never say no to you, Dal,” Alex brushes his nose over mine, “and I’ll always listen to you. Because I love you.”
“I know you will,” I grin, “because I love you, too, AlexfuckingBarrera.”
And that’s the difference. I don’t owe anyone an explanation other than that. And when Alex says he’ll do something, he does it, including ordering me a ham and pineapple pizza from my favorite pizzeria and drizzling it with more chili oil than anyone has any business eating as soon as it arrives.
“Wow,” I murmur as I finish reviewing the edited video on the burner phone that I only use for communicating with Bowen.
Lower the lighting, change the pitch, adjust the speed, and neither of us look or sound like ourselves.
Alex watches over my shoulder. “An Oscar-winning performance right there.”
I peer up at him suspiciously. “You’re really good at this.”
“You forget, we’ve had three years practice pretending to be other people. And by the way,” he reaches down and tips my chin up, “I’ve never felt the need to be anyone’s Daddy, but I wouldn’t mind being yours.”
“Maybe you could do it again…later.”
“Mí Mariposita,” he drawls, “just say the word and I’ll use and abuse you all night if you want me to.”
The thought of it fills me with the most depraved satisfaction, amplified only by the moment I press the send button and shoot off my edited porno into the ether to entice Bowen to spill his guts.
I have no choice but to go to bed wondering if it’ll be enough. But I don’t have to wait long for an answer, because a text comes through while I’m brushing my teeth. I pick up the burner phone to read it, but there’s nothing but a photo. At first, I don’t know what I’m looking at. But, soon, the horrific image begins to register. I spit my toothpaste out and drag a towel across my mouth, my eyes glued to the screen.
His head is cut out of the frame, but I know it’s Bowen. He’s lying on his back with one arm behind his head while the other holds the phone above him. There’s something laying in the center of his chest that snakes all the way down his torso and ends just above the waistband of his sweatpants.The stark contrast of the disembodied rope of vibrant ruby hair against Bowen’s abs is unmistakable. And what’s more, it still holds a sheen in the light as though it’s remained untouched for six years.
I set the phone on the vanity, grabbing the edges to brace myself as I try to breathe. But all I can do is stare in horror while I try to stop the room from spinning.I don’t know how long Alex has been standing behind me when I finally notice his shadow cast over the white marble. He doesn’t say anything, only stares over my shoulder with the same menacing look he gave Austin at GalactiCon.
My voice cracks with dread. “He has…he has her hair,” I rasp as tears blur the grotesque image before me.
Alex wraps his arms around my stomach and shoulders, enveloping me in a tight cocoon. I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting the urge to collapse into a blubbering pile on the floor while he presses me against his chest.Once my head stops spinning, there’s only one question running through my mind.
“Where is it?” I murmur. “Where does he keep it?”
I’m no idiot; Bowen’s face isn’t in frame and even if I sounded the alarm now, I don’t know where he keeps his macabre treasure hoard. Does he text me from his real phone or is he smart enough to cover his tracks, too?
I look up at Alex. “It’s not enough.”
“No,” Alex agrees, “if he gets spooked, he could destroy everything. He has to give you more.”
But, still, this is a big deal.
I scowl at the phone, its screen having gone dark by now. “Austin—thatfucking asshole,” I sneer, “saying I ran back to you because Bowen rejected me or some shit.” I get angrier the more I think about it. “As if I’d knowingly look at Bowen to begin with! Austin just—"
But then I go silent. Staring at the screen, an unsettling feeling skitters over my skin like a thousand spiders. Everything stops, sounds mute, and my pulse thumps in my ears as the realization hits me like a freight train.
“What?” Alex’s voice breaks me out of my trance. “What is it?”
How would Austin even know about Bowen?
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
