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25

HOW SHE BLEEDS

DIYA

A fter completing the paperwork, and leaving Asher in his room, I walked to my cottage.

The dead rat was gone, along with the note.

After a quick shower and changing into something comfortable, I sat down and opened my laptop, looking through online archives, obituaries, and news articles for young girls who had committed suicide in and around Hollowhaven.

Most of them were too young to die before they could properly live their lives. In the pictures, they were laughing, eyes lit with smiles and dreams, and someone broke those dreams, and built a nightmare for them.

It was cruel, so fucking cruel.

Asher came when the night turned fully dark, with a bunch of flowers.

“Flowers?” I stared at the beautiful purple wild lupine , wondering if he knew that behind the beauty was something deadly.

“Poison, Diya. Just as beautiful and lethal as you are,” he whispered, his eyes softly caressing my body.

“So you know,” I said with a smile, placing it carefully to the side.

“I’m learning. I see why you love them. They’re too beautiful to be dangerous. Too innocuous and innocent. Like you.”

“It’s also called bluebonnets because the flowers look like a woman’s bonnet,” I said. “So beautiful.’

He sat on the couch, leaning back with a sigh.

“But beauty is deceptive.” His eyes darkened. “You’re deceptive.”

I joined him on the couch. “So… I was looking through online archives for suicides,” I said. “There are a few here in Hollow Heights. I think we should look at the towns around, as well.”

“That’s a good idea. We should start with girls around fifteen to twenty. Focus on those who died after Millie was admitted and before Riley’s death first, and then widen the search.”

I nodded, looking through the dates and years scribbled on the paper. “That should help us find a connection.”

We spent the next few hours searching through more news articles, coroner reports, until our eyes burned. Asher stood up and came back with two cups of tea.

“Chai. I added ginger.”

I took a sip with a sigh. “Thanks. I needed it,” I said with a smile.

“Something funny?”

“Whenever we used to plan… you know…” I trailed off with a chuckle.

“Plan what?”

“To kill?” I said with a shrug, looking away from him. “We drank tea.”

“How do you choose who to kill?”

“Men who don’t deserve to live. Like the ones who did this to Millie and Riley,” I said with a sigh. “There are so many like them, Asher.”

“Your sisters, are they like you?”

I smiled. “What do you think?”

“They are like you, and you love them.”

“Yes, and I’m alive now, because of them. I survived the horror only because Layne and Trina were there.”

His eyes turned pensive as he ran a finger along my brows.

His finger went to my nose before he pressed his thumb against my lips.

“Maybe someday, you’ll learn to…” He closed his eyes as if he was considering whether to say what he wanted to say. He didn’t. His fingers slid down my shoulder, over the tattoo of a twisting snake, before he pressed a kiss on my neck. “It’s okay, you know, to let others worry about you, too. It won’t kill you.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“You love danger, don’t you?” he asked.

“Only when I know I can win. I don’t like to gamble.”

“Life’s a gamble, and…” His eyes never left mine, as he leaned in, pressing his lips against mine. “I’m all in now, Sharma.”

I gulped, my heart hammering, when he pulled away. He didn’t kiss harder, he didn’t touch me, he didn’t try to make it sexual. Fuck. I wanted him to, but he turned back to the laptop as if he hadn’t just almost… confessed .

He did, didn’t he?

Shaking my head, I grabbed my pen and started listing the names, one after another. The details on why these girls had ended their lives were frustratingly sparse.

“I’ll start reaching out to their families. See if anyone’s willing to talk about what happened, or if they remember anything unusual.”

We worked for another twenty minutes.

He yawned, stretching against the couch, and closed his eyes.

I took his hand in mine, grazing my fingers along the veins in his arm until he relaxed under my touch. He groaned when I pressed a kiss against his palm.

“You can choose how you want to pay me tonight,” he whispered, eyes closed.

I stared at him, the hunger steadily taking over. My need for him was just as inescapable as the need for murder had once been.

He blinked, staring at me, waiting.

This man made me reckless. Logic told me to walk away, to keep my heart distant, to not let him become anything more than a passing moment in a life already too complicated. But logic was dead the second he looked at me like that—like he saw something in me, something worth protecting, worth keeping.

This was self-destruction.

And I wanted it.

“I want blood,” I whispered, and his eyes widened, his breath coming in a shallow gasp. “I want to control you this time, and I want to…”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t even let me say what I wanted.”

He removed his shirt, throwing it down.

“Yes, to whatever you want, Diya, yes to every fucking thing. Use me, break me, brand me.”

“Should I?” I said with a smile, standing up from the couch. On my way toward the bed, I grabbed a knife from the drawer. It was new, and I had been waiting for the right moment to use it.

I slid my hand up his chest. He was warm, a stark contrast to the icy steel in my hand. He shuddered, and I smiled. “Interesting,” I murmured, pressing the blade softly into his skin, and pushing him toward the bed.

He moaned as he fell on the mattress.

I leaned over him, my lips brushing his chin as his fingers dug into my ass.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Pussycat.”

He groaned again when I let the blade trail lower.

“Safe word?” I said.

He moaned. “I don’t need one.”

I winked. “You never know. How about… Foxglove for when it’s getting dangerous, and Belladonna for when you really want me to stop?”

“OK,” he breathed.

His eyes were half-closed, his jaw clenched. “The tension in your jaw, the way your hands flex against the bed sheet. You want to let go, don’t you? You want to touch me.” His lips parted, but no words came. I leaned closer, my breath warm against his neck. “Cat got your tongue, Pussycat?”

A strangled breath left his lips. “I’m allowing you to…”

“Allowing me?” I whispered, laughing. “How adorable. You think you let me do anything?”

He swallowed hard. “No.”

I pressed the blade just under his jaw, light enough not to break the skin but firm enough to make him tilt his head back instinctively. “Right answer. What do you want now, Asher?”

His pulse raced. The knife thrummed in my hands, alive, burning for a taste of his blood just as I burned. He licked his lips before answering, his voice quieter now. “You. It’s always you.”

“You know what happens to good boys who know the right answers?”

“They get rewarded?” he asked, his smile cheeky, his eyes glazed.

I grinned, shaking my head. “Oh, no. Not tonight. Good boys still have to squirm a little. It’s only fun then.”

I dragged the knife down his throat, over his collarbone, then across the wings on his chest, along the que serà, serà written under the left wing.

His breathing hitched with every touch, every kiss of steel, and it made me wet. To feel him aroused, alert, needy.

“Such pretty skin,” I whispered, caressing the other side of the tattoo with my fingers. “So smooth. So tempting. It’ll be a shame to leave a mark.”

He arched his brow. “Do it. Cut me. Mark me. I want to think about you whenever I look at it. I want to see it and know I…” he trailed off.

“You never finish your thoughts, Asher.”

“I belong to you.” His grin was crooked but slightly nervous.

“Tonight?”

He didn’t answer.

I bit my lips, studying him.

“Asher? I…”

“Write your name, Diya. Please. Claim me.”

That would be foolishness. Once this revenge was over, once… I’d no longer crave Asher Maddox, I’d move on with my life, and he’d move on with his.

But I didn’t stop as I carved D just below the left side of the tattooed wing. Blood pooled around in a sharp line, and he winced and groaned, his eyes hazy and filled with lust.

“Diya.”

I softly pressed a towel against the blood before tracing I next to it, but this time, I just let the blade graze his skin, not cutting, before tracing Y and A.

He jerked, his body seeking, his fingers twitching.

“I want to touch you.”

“No.”

I put the knife away, pressing a kiss to his throat, before pulling his pants down.

My breath snagged when I saw the look in his eyes. I undressed and straddled him, slowly taking him in. He moved beneath me, guiding me in and out.

“Shit. I…”

“I know,” I said. “It feels so fucking good.” I moved faster, making him moan. His fingers curled around the sheet, as mine went to his throat.

“Diya, I’m about to come. Fuck.” He slammed his hands against the mattress, trying to get me off of him. “I… Foxglove?” he said, shaking his head.

I chuckled.

His teeth sank into his lips as he closed his eyes.

“Should I stop?”

His body strained against mine, burning for release.

“No? Oh shit, I-I don’t think I can… fuck, Diya, I want…”

I closed my eyes, moving faster. He dug his fingers into my hips, gasping, begging.

My body tightened around him, and his fingers trailed down, finding my clit.

“If you don’t come now, Diya…” he gasped, biting his lips. “Fuck.” He whimpered when I chuckled. “It’s not funny.” His jaw clenched as he looked up at me, eyes wide, desperate. I bit back my laughter.

“Don’t worry about me. You can come if you want to.”

“Fuck. I’ll kill myself if I climax before you.”

“It’s not that serious, Asher. It happens when…”

“Stop being a psychiatrist when you’re riding my cock,” he grunted, and I laughed. He took a breath before he flipped us around. His muscles tightened as he pushed my knees apart. “I refuse to come before you do.”

“I appreciate your fervor, but you…”

“Hush. I’m trying to concentrate.”

His thumb grazed my right nipple before his lips closed over it. I sucked in a deep breath as he swirled his tongue around, and his teeth grazed my breast, and my body tightened.

“Hey, Little Poison…” He looked at me, eyes burning. “I have never wanted a woman as much as I want you, and I’m sure I’ll never want anyone else like this, even after this is over.” His voice was soft, his eyes softer as he trailed his fingers lower, flicking it against my clit. “Now, my darling, now…”

He moved faster and faster, even as his finger against my clit somehow remained soft.

“Scream my name when you come.” He pulled out before he thrust in and the pieces in me that had been once broken came together in a marvelous abstract of colors. Everything turned dark, except Asher Maddox. I gasped, and then I came, screaming his name, the orgasm breaking over me like a flood.

He stayed there, his eyes never leaving me as he watched me drown.

When I finally resurfaced, he moved inside me again, now taking everything he had just given until he broke with a growl, filling me to the brim, cum sliding down my thighs.

He pulled out, tracing his cum along my thighs and then over my breasts… writing his name on me.

“This is me marking my territory. Remember…”

“My body belongs to you until the debt is paid,” I said.

“That’s my girl,” he said, pressing a kiss on my shoulder.

Why the hell did my heart stop for a second before it restarted?

I woke up with a smile, stretching and groaning. I showered and dressed, before calling the number that belonged to the mother of a girl who had died a few months after Millie came to Hollowhaven. Tabitha Kelsey. She lived in a small town next to Hollow Heights.

The voice that answered the phone sounded weak.

“Hello.” The single word carried the weight of sleepless nights and unspoken grief.

“My name’s Diya Sharma, I’m a doctor at Hollowhaven,” I said. “I called to talk to you about Tabitha.”

There was a long pause as if the woman didn’t know what to say.

“I’m Tabitha’s mother, Mercy. Why are you asking about her now? It has been years.”

This was hard to do on the phone, but I didn’t have time to waste now.

“Do you believe that she killed herself?” I asked, knowing very well I was bringing a world of pain to this woman. “I was looking through some old case notes, and it looked like her death was suspicious.”

There was a sharp, broken intake of breath from the other side.

“They said she overdo-overdosed?” the woman said, her voice a fragile whisper.

She had been waiting for someone to listen. To ask the right questions, and from how she sounded, no one ever had.

“Did you believe that?” The guilt gnawed at me, but I couldn’t stop now. I had to hear her say it.

“No,” she said, her voice cracking. “No, I didn’t. I never believed that. She became worse after she went to Hollowhaven. She kept talking about spiders and ticking clocks… and lavenders. I didn’t understand anything. They didn’t allow me to visit her often and the visits we had… they were supervised by a doctor.”

Now, I knew we were on the right path.

“She went there to get better. She wanted to… graduate, and be a normal teenager. She was nineteen when she died, and I failed her.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. Iknew it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. “Can we meet, if that’s not too much trouble? I don’t want to do this on the phone. I want to know more about what happened to Tabitha.”

“Yes. Yes, doctor,” she said, voice breaking. “Yes. Yes!”

“When will you be free?”

“Today? Tomorrow? I can come to Hollow Heights right now. Please!” I understood what she was asking. If I was right, and if Tabitha was, in fact, one of his victims, her mother needed closure.

“I’ll meet you tomorrow. Do you know the Hollow Inn?”

“Yes.”

“Can you book a room and message me the room number.” I gave her my number. “Keep it a secret.”

“Are there any problems?”

“Not yet,” I said. “Just be careful.”

“I will be.”

“Thank you. See you tomorrow.”

I hung up.

This was beginning to sound a lot bigger than anything I had ever dealt with… and a part of me was scared just as a part of me hungered to end this madman for once and all.

“I called Tabitha’s mother. I’m going to town to meet her tomorrow,” I said when Asher came in for his one-on-one session.

“What did she say?”

“She thinks her daughter couldn’t have killed herself. She said Tabitha got worse after she came to Hollowhaven. She became increasingly paranoid, and she talked about spiders. Like Millie and Riley. I’m meeting her tomorrow.”

“We don’t know who he is, Diya, but he might already be looking for us. If he finds out we’re digging…”

“This isn’t my first rodeo,” I said. “But I’ll be careful.”

“You’re at a disadvantage here. If he has hunted here for years, he is either a local, or he’s lived here for a long time. He knows this place betterthan you do, Diya. Better than I do. Please, please.” His eyes were soft as he subtly ran a finger down my hand. “Stay alive.” His voice hitched.

He looked desperate, he looked like he wanted to lock me in a room and keep me safe.

“I won’t die, I promise. I’ll be extra careful. Did you look into the hunting cabin? Find anything?”

“Nothing about the cabin yet, but I found what you asked for,” he said, pulling a piece of paper from inside his pocket. “I saw Millie’s sketchbook and this… I stole it from her. You’re right. Millie is his first victim.”

My heart froze as I stared at the picture, eyes wide. Row after row of men stood behind tall, gnarled trees, their postures rigid, almost inhuman. Each one of them had four eyes, and horns grew from their forehead like gnarled branches.

In the middle of the woods, a dead girl lay on top of leaves, her body unnaturally twisted. She was faceless, but I could somehow sense her pain.

“This…” My voice caught, thick with unease as I spoke. “This is horrible.”

“This is just one of many. But this one reminded me of Riley’s letters. The monster in the woods. The horns.”

Was it a fragment of something Millie had seen or was it just her mind exaggerating the horror of what had happened to her years ago?

It could be either.

Of course, there were ways to get Millie to remember what happened to her, but even after years, she was still barely holding on. She might not survive remembering it. Not when… he was still alive.

If she did survive mentally, I’d be putting her in danger by exposing her to her tormentor again.

“Poor Millie. She—” I stopped when I heard a knock.

“Yes?”

“Doctor, your friend…”

I opened the door with a smile.

“It is okay, Oswald. She’s the one I told you about.”

The guard walked away, after throwing one last bewildered look at Layne.

She walked into the room.

“Hi. I suppose you’re Asher, the sexy psychopath?”