Page 50 of Bloody Desecration

The smile Brett wore only deepened, and he glanced around before wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He turned me around and walked us away from the crowd and the ongoing sermon. We reached the outer edge of the football field, where the fence’s gate sat open, the trail to the parking lot just outside it.

“I told you,” he whispered, “you inspired me, Brianna.” His arm was tight around my shoulder, his forearm and bicep almost crushing, like he wanted to remind me that he was bigger than me—bigger and stronger. “You should take it as a compliment. Most people are so boring. But you… as much as I hate to say it, you’re interesting.”

Now that we were away from the crowd, we could talk a little louder without drawing attention to ourselves, and Brett finally lowered his arm from my shoulder, which let me take a quick step away from him. When I sent him a death glare, he chuckled.

“Take, for instance, why you’re here,” he said while gesturing at me and then the crowd we’d moved away from. “Why are you here, knowing I’d probably come for you? I’m surprised you’re not at Montgomery Manor, plotting with Alistair to get Gareth out of this.” He flashed me a set of pearly whites, and it would’ve been a perfect smile in every way had it not been so dangerous. “Believe it or not, I didn’t plan that. Not yet, anyway. For them to have enough evidence to arrest him on those charges… it’s almost insane, when you think about it.”

Anyone else might feel uncomfortable being alone with someone like Brett, but I’d had my fair share of psychopaths lately. He was just another one, baring his teeth and wanting me to cower.

I wouldn’t.

“Almost,” Brett paused, taking a step toward me and boxing me in against the fence, just beside the open gate, “like it was planned, which would mean… what, Brianna? That I was supposed to come here and find you, alone?”

So he’d figured it out. Hmm. I had to play this differently, if the plan was still going to work.

“Neo wanted to take the Montgomery family down,” I told him. “It wasn’t your plan, even if you helped. This is about me now, not Gareth, not Alistair, and not Rick.Me. So why don’t you and I just finish this already?”

Brett laughed again. “I can see why my cousin liked you. You’re fun. Too bad we had to meet in circumstances like this. Maybe things could’ve been different between you and I… but you killed my cousin, so I have to return the favor.”

I pushed off the fence, hearing the metal rattle a bit as I stepped closer to Brett. I angled my head back; he was as tall as Neo had been—towering. “Then do it,” I hissed out.

“Right here? Please. I don’t want a hundred witnesses saying I fled the scene after strangling you. No.”

His hand shot out, wrapped around my backside, and right when I thought he was copping a feel of my ass, he pulled out my phone from the small back pocket of my leggings.

“What we’re going to do is go somewhere nice and quiet, and we’re going to leave this here so your stepfather and that dirty sheriff can’t track you.” Brett dropped my phone onto the grass, near the fence. It was immediately swallowed up by weeds and shadows.

“And then,” he paused as he took hold of my right hand, gripping it so tightly my fingers immediately felt bruised, “I’m going to show you a little present I’ve been working on. It’s my best work yet, I have to say.”

Before I had the chance to say anything in response, he pulled me along. Away from the vigil, away from the crowd, away from the group of girls who were upset with me. Away from it all, and even as he tugged me toward the dim parking lot, not a single soul around to witness us leaving the vigil early, my head spun.

A present? What kind of present could he have for me? Obviously, it had to be another body, another work of art, or so he’d claim, but who?

My stomach sank to my feet when we arrived at his car, a nondescript, small, black vehicle, the kind that only had two doors, not four. It was a car that would easily blend in to its surroundings, no matter where it was. Not overly rusted, but not shiny and new, either.

He pulled open the passenger door for me, and then he shoved me in. Brett never lost his smile, not even as he shut the door and hurried around his car to get in. I didn’t try the door, though I could’ve; it might’ve been my only chance to get out of this.

How many eyes did Alistair have on me right now? Did his private investigators see this whole thing? Would they follow us?

No. I didn’t try to get out of his car because I had to see. I had to know who Brett had killed for me. My curiosity had always been of the morbid variety, and lately it had certainly gotten its fill. There were some things in life you were better off not ever seeing, but I’d never gotten that memo.

Nothing was too much. Nothing was off-limits. Not to me.

Once he was in the car, he pulled out his keys and started her up. We were out of the parking lot within the minute, and with a glance in the side mirror, I couldn’t see anyone tailing us. No other cars that had recently started up and pulled out of their parking spots. We drove out of that lot alone, no one on our tail.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d come this willingly,” Brett said, both hands on the wheel. He tossed a joyless smile my way, a wolf wearing a handsome face. Neo 2.0. “I thought you’d fight me once I took your phone, try to make a scene or something.”

Though my heart had begun to beat rapidly in my chest—we were farther down the road now, and still I didn’t see anyone pulling out of the school to follow us—I kept my cool, simply saying, “I just want this to be over with. I’m tired of this game.”

Brett checked the rearview mirror. “Oh, this game ain’t over yet, Brianna. We still have the final play. Don’t worry, though, it’s a good one. The best play ever. Like I said, it’s my best work, and I owe it all to you. Who would’ve ever thought my hunting and dressing skills could be put to use like this?” He laughed at that.

I said nothing, though I did continue to glare at him.

“It’s how Neo and I stayed in touch, you know. Once I stopped coming by in the summer, when gramps got put in the old folks’ home, we made sure to see each other. We had a hunting trip every month, in season or not. It’s where I first learned that my cousin was a lot like me. He wasn’t bothered by blood or death at all. A lot of people around here aren’t bothered by that stuff, hick central, but there’s something different about being unable to look away when you watch an animal take its final breath. Watching their eyes glaze over and their struggling slow—”

“Did you hunt deer or humans?” I asked, unable to help myself.

That got him to chuckle. “Depends on the trip.” His fingers tapped the wheel as we made a left turn. Still I saw no cars following us. “Everyone always wants to think it’s the people with shitty upbringings that turn on society, but that’s not true. Sometimes it might be, but not everyone who’s been abused turns into a killer, just like not everyone that’s a killer had a shitty childhood. Sometimes, you’re just born wrong.”

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