Page 24

24

REMY

I watch Eden’s fingers dance across her phone screen as she posts the staged photo we took this morning. It’s a simple shot at the carnival, making it seem like she’s still pursuing her investigation. It’s a perfect alibi. My plan is working flawlessly.

Last night’s blood-soaked encounter revealed something deeper about her—a deviant side that mirrors my own. The way her eyes lit up at the evidence of violence on my body, how she tenderly cleaned my wounds while thrumming with excitement. I’ve never met anyone who understands this part of me.

“You can walk the grounds today,” I tell her, watching her expression brighten. “The carnival’s closed, so stick to the back areas.”

Eden’s eyes widen with surprise. “Really?”

I step closer, towering over her. “If you even think about running...” My voice drops low as I trace a finger along her jaw. “Remember our little chase in the forest? How I hunted you down, tracked your every move?” I feel her shiver at the memory. “Next time won’t be nearly as fun for you.”

She swallows hard but holds my gaze. “I understand.”

“Good girl.” I pull back, assessing her reaction. There’s no fear in her eyes, only acceptance and that familiar dark gleam that first drew me to her. “Stay within sight of my crew. They’ll be watching.”

Eden nods, already moving toward the door with barely contained excitement. I know she won’t run. She’s too invested now, too fascinated by the dark side she’s discovered here. More importantly, she’s mine.

I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Ty’s message is brief.

Office. Now.

Leaving Eden exploring near my trailer, I cross the empty carnival grounds. The morning sun casts long shadows between the rides and game stalls. My boots crunch against loose gravel as I approach Ty’s office trailer.

Inside, Ty sits behind his cluttered desk, fingers drumming against the worn wood. His expression is grim.

“We need to talk about your little pet project,” he says.

I lean against the wall, arms crossed. “Eden’s under control.”

“Is she?” Ty’s eyes narrow. “Because letting her wander around seems like the opposite of control.”

“She won’t run.”

“That’s not the point.” He leans forward. “She’s a liability. A true crime podcaster who’s seen too much. The smart play here is to make her disappear. Clean. Simple.”

The suggestion hits me so hard I want to murder Ty. My hands clench into fists, and I push off the wall, looming over his desk. “That’s not happening.”

“Remy—”

“No.” My voice comes out as a growl. “Eden’s off limits. She’s mine.”

“You’re thinking with your dick instead of your head.” Ty stands, matching my stance. “One anonymous tip from her and everything we’ve built here crashes down.”

“Touch her,” I snarl, “and you’ll find out exactly how much control I have over my impulses.”

The threat hangs heavy in the air between us. Ty studies me for a long moment. “You better know what you’re doing.”

I turn and yank open the door, pausing only to look back over my shoulder. “I do. And Eden stays alive. End of discussion.”

I stalk away from Ty’s office, my blood still boiling. The morning sun does nothing to calm the rage coursing through my veins. My hands clench into fists, staving off the urge to wrap them around his throat for suggesting we harm Eden.

The familiar itch creeps up my spine—that burning need to hurt, to destroy. I’ve controlled it for years, channeling it into the carnival’s criminal operations. But threatening what’s mine? That awakens something far worse.

I spot Lars working on the Ferris wheel and redirect my path. He tenses as I approach, likely sensing the danger radiating off me.

“Need something broken?” he asks.

A harsh laugh escapes me. “More like someone.” I crack my knuckles, the sound sharp in the morning air. “Ty seems to forget who handles the messy parts of our operation.”

Lars sets down his wrench. “He’s business-minded. Clean and efficient.”

“Clean?” I spit the word out. “There’s nothing clean about what we do. He pretends his hands aren’t dirty because he doesn’t often do the dirty work himself.”

The memories flash through my mind of every throat I’ve crushed, every body I’ve disposed of. Ty gives the orders, but I’m one of the ones who makes people disappear. Not because I have to, but because I want to—because something inside me craves it.

“Ty’s never understood,” I continue, my voice dropping lower. “He thinks this is just about money. But some of us need this.”

Lars takes a small step back, and I realize my hands are clenched into white-knuckled fists. The predator in me recognizes his fear and feeds on it. This is what sets me apart from Ty.

Now I have Eden. Someone who sees the monster and wants to embrace it rather than run from it, and I’ll kill anyone who tries to take her from me.

Lars takes another measured step back, his eyes fixed on my clenched fists. “You’re right. Ty doesn’t understand, but Eden does, doesn’t she?”

The sound of her name cuts through the red haze of anger. I inhale sharply, forcing my fingers to uncurl.

“That’s why you’re protecting her,” Lars continues. “She sees the real you.”

“She doesn’t just see it.” I lean against the Ferris wheel’s metal frame. “She craves it.”

Lars picks up his wrench again, seeming to sense the immediate danger has passed. “Then Ty’s wrong about her being a liability. She’s an asset.”

A harsh laugh escapes me. “Since when did you become so insightful?”

“Someone has to be the voice of reason around here.” He shrugs, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Can’t all be unhinged psychos like you, Gage, and Cade.”

“Watch it,” I warn. The rage has subsided, leaving behind its familiar dull ache.

“Hey, at least you found someone who appreciates your particular brand of crazy.”

“Just like you pursued Alice, and somehow she has accepted your unhinged ass?”

I watch Lars’s face soften as I mention Alice.

“It’s different when you find that one person who fits,” he says, a rare smile crossing his features. “Alice gets me. All of me. Even the parts I tried to hide.”

The tenderness in his voice catches me off guard. Lars, usually reserved and calculated, transforms when he talks about her. His shoulders relax, the ever-present tension melting away.

“She doesn’t try to change me,” he continues, adjusting a bolt on the wheel. “Just accepts who I am and makes me want to be better without forcing it.”

I think about Eden, how she doesn’t flinch from my twisted side but embraces it. How she sees the monster inside me and wants more, not less.

“Never thought I’d find someone like that,” Lars admits. “Someone who makes the chaos in my head quiet down.”

The words hit closer to home than I’d like to admit. Eden has the same effect on me, not taming my violent urges but understanding them and accepting them. She makes them feel less like a curse and more like a shared secret.

“Alice grounds me,” Lars says, his voice low and intimate. “Makes everything make sense.”

I nod. Some people just fit, like missing pieces we never knew we were looking for.