Page 22 of Taming Seraphine

I’d murder a room full of men again in a heartbeat.

But next time, I’d save him for last. Maybe even turn one of his body parts into a trophy. Or a snack.

Whatever he says next is lost on me as I drift into unconsciousness.

* * *

I wake to find myself wrapped in a soft, fuzzy blanket in the backseat. There’s a rolled-up jacket beneath my head that smells of him. Of Leroi. He must have picked me up and finished digging the grave. Warmth seeps into my heart. Maybe he isn’t so bad.

Leroi drives in silence, save for the rumbling of tires on the road. Sunlight peeps out from behind the tall buildings, coloring the sky a delicious shade of orange and the ends of his hair mahogany.

“Where are we going?” I mumble.

“Awake now, princess?” he asks with a tiny smirk.

My lips tighten. Does he actually think I fainted on purpose just to avoid digging the rest of that pervert’s grave? My mind conjures up a hundred rebuttals, but I can’t even muster up the courage to utter a single one.

I don’t know this man. Leroi is a mass of contradictions. He’s kind, annoying, and not a creep, but he’s also a killer more dangerous than either of the twins. They only had the balls to come at me while I was drugged or incapacitated by the collar. Leroi looks like the kind of man who doesn’t need tools to inflict pain or get me under his control.

“You try digging a grave after five years in a basement,” I mutter.

The car slows. “Did you say five years?”

“Yes.” I sit up and clutch the blanket.

“Shit.” He exhales. “God, Seraphine, I’m sorry?—”

“I don’t want your pity,” I whisper.

With a nod, he pulls into a gas station. My heart flips and I draw in a sharp breath. Is he going to leave me at the side of the road, now that he knows the extent of my damage?

“Where are you going?”

“Filling the tank,” he says without looking into my eyes. “Want me to get you anything?”

“No,” I rasp. “Thank you.”

“Be back in a minute.”

Leroi steps out and closes the door without giving me a backward glance. All traces of the man who delivered snide remarks are gone, replaced by someone carrying a burden they want to offload.

I gulp, my throat knotting, every ounce of me wishing I hadn’t blurted the truth. I can only imagine he’s thinking I’m a liability with a compulsion to kill men. That’s not entirely true. I didn’t harm any of the clean-up crew, even if they spoke loudly and their voices grated on my nerves. I haven’t been tempted to harm Leroi or his red-haired side-kick. Much.

In the side mirror, I watch him fill the tank before walking into the gas station and disappearing through the door. I open the door, slip into the front passenger seat, and buckle up. Then I close my eyes and try to calm my racing thoughts.

Maybe I’m overthinking the situation. Leroi could just be overwhelmed with what I said and feeling guilty for making me clean up and dig that grave. After all, he had a crew of men handle the other corpses. The only reason he wanted me to do the clean-up was to be petty.

Two sharp knocks sound on the window, shaking me from thoughts, and my gaze snaps to the side. A man in a baseball cap motions at me to wind it down. When I don’t respond, he points at the other side of the car, like he wants to come in.

I press the button, and the window whirs down, letting in the scent of stale cigarette smoke and gasoline.

The man sticks his head through the gap, his eyes flickering to my meager chest. “Hey baby,” he says, his breath reeking of booze. “Want a ride? You look like you could use a good time.”

He reminds me of another old man who used to leer at me, but then I was tied up or threatened with a shock from the chip embedded in my neck. My nostrils flare. Nobody gets to look at me like I’m a piece of meat.

Before I can stop myself, I’ve pushed the button to raise the window and trapped his head in the car. Using one of the stolen steak knives, I stab him up to the hilt in one of his beady eyes.

I pull back the knife at his loud roar, cutting through his skin and releasing a spray of blood. It soaks the front of my shirt and face. His screams and the blood coating me breaks me from my stupor, and I open the window and set him free.

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