Page 28

28

REMY

T he crunch of gravel outside my trailer startles me awake, followed by hushed voices that don’t belong to my crew. My muscles tense as I slip out of bed.

“Stay here,” I whisper as Eden shifts, grabbing my knife and gun from the bedside drawer.

Exiting the trailer, I scan the shadows between the carnival rides. Three figures dart between the tents, heading toward Ty’s office trailer. My jaw clenches. Those idiots from the Martinez crew think they can strong-arm us by causing trouble.

“I said stay inside,” I growl, sensing Eden’s presence behind me without turning around. Her breath catches, but she doesn’t retreat.

The intruders pause behind the Ferris wheel, their outlines visible against the moonlight. One carries what looks like a baseball bat, another a crowbar—amateur hour.

“Go back to the trailer. Now.” I keep my voice low but firm.

“I want to help,” Eden whispers back, her stubbornness shining through.

“This isn’t one of your podcast stories.” I grip my knife tighter as the figures split up, two heading toward the storage containers. At the same time, one continues toward Ty’s office. “This is real, and you need to?—”

A crash echoes through the carnival grounds as one of them knocks over a stack of empty crates. My window of surprise is closing.

“Eden.” I turn to face her, meeting her determined gaze. “Last warning. Get inside and lock the door.”

She’s already shaking her head, that familiar obsessive gleam in her eyes. She’s not going anywhere, and I don’t have time to force her. The Martinez crew is here, and I need to move.

Cursing under my breath, I stalk forward into the shadows, knowing Eden will follow despite my orders. Her footsteps are surprisingly quiet behind me as we track the intruders through our carnival.

I corner the first guy behind the haunted house, catching him off guard as he tries to jimmy open our storage unit. My fist connects with his jaw before he can cry out. The satisfying crunch of bone beneath my knuckles sends a familiar thrill through me.

“You picked the wrong carnival,” I snarl, driving my knee into his stomach. He doubles over, gasping.

Movement catches my eye—the second intruder charging at me with the crowbar raised. I spin, using the first guy as a shield. The crowbar catches him instead of me, and his scream pierces the night.

I drop him and launch at the crowbar guy, my knife finding his shoulder. Blood sprays as I twist the blade. He howls, dropping his weapon. I kick his legs out from under him and slam his head against the storage container. The sound echoes like a gong.

“Remy!” Eden’s urgent whisper reaches me. “watch out!”

I whirl to see the last intruder running toward us, bat raised. Before I can move, Eden swings one of our carnival tent poles, catching him in the back of the knees. He stumbles, and I’m on him in an instant.

My fist crashes into his face repeatedly. Blood coats my knuckles. The wet sounds of impact fill the air, along with his choked gasps.

“Here.” Eden’s voice is steady as she hands me zip ties. Her eyes are excitedly bright, pupils blown wide as she watches me bind their hands and feet.

“You were prepared for something like this,” I say, noting how prepared she was.

“I saw them on the counter and quickly grabbed them in case.” She helps me drag them behind the storage unit, out of sight.

Her hands are steady as she helps me secure them, showing no fear or disgust at the blood and violence. When she looks at me, I see only satisfaction in her gaze.

I check the pulse of our three unwanted visitors. Two are weak but steady. The third... nothing. I press harder against his neck, but the stillness confirms what I already know. My last punch was too much for him.

“This one’s done,” I say, wiping blood from my knuckles. “I’ll need to handle disposal.”

Eden kneels beside me, her fingers trailing over the dead man’s jacket. Instead of revulsion, I witness her fascination. “Let me help,” she whispers, that familiar obsessive gleam intensifying. “I want to be useful.”

The sight of her like this, covered in someone else’s blood, eager to dispose of a body, takes my breath away. She’s not just accepting my rough edges; she’s wanting to dive deeper into my world.

“You’re perfect,” I growl, grabbing her face and crushing my mouth against hers. Her lips part under mine. When I pull back, her eyes are wild. “Absolutely fucking perfect.”

Her hands clutch at my shirt, smearing blood across the fabric. “Show me everything,” she begs. “I want to know all of it. How to clean up, where to hide the evidence, what to do next time.”

Next time.

She’s already planning for more violence, more shared moments like this.

I guide Eden through the process, showing her how to properly secure the zip ties on our two living captives. We drag them into the specially outfitted trailer behind the storage units, just behind where I kept Eden captive. We have an on-site torture chamber at the carnival for emergencies like this.

“Make sure the zip ties are pulled tight,” I instruct. “Even if they seem unconscious, they can still cause trouble.”

Eden absorbs every detail, her movements precise as she helps me secure them to the metal chairs. Her hands don’t shake, and her eyes focus on the task.

Once they’re secured, we return for the third one. I retrieve the old wheelbarrow behind the maintenance trailer, its rusty frame creaking under the weight as we load him in.

“Wait here,” I tell her, heading for the parking lot. Minutes later, I return to the spot with the panel van with clean papers. Eden helps me load the third one into the back with the wheelbarrow and two shovels.

“The cops will be watching the carnival,” Eden says as we pull onto the access road. “We need distance.”

“I know a place,” I tell her, turning onto the back roads. We drive for an hour, winding through rural areas I’ve scouted previously. Eden stays alert, watching for other vehicles, but we don’t pass a single car.

We pull onto an overgrown service road leading to an abandoned construction site. The development project fell through years ago, leaving half-finished foundations and pre- dug holes scattered across several acres. Nature has already started reclaiming the site, with thick vegetation providing cover.

“Smart,” Eden says, understanding immediately. “They’ll never connect this to the carnival.”

We back the van to one of the deeper foundation holes, roll the body in, and start the methodical process of filling the hole with the excavated soil in piles nearby.

“Cover his face first,” I tell her.

She nods, shoveling dirt over his head and torso while I work on the legs. As we finish, the moon slips behind clouds, leaving us in near-total darkness as we tamp down the loose earth.

“The construction company’s bankruptcy tied this land up in court,” I explain as we load the tools back into the van. “No one’s coming here anytime soon.”

Eden turns to me, and her lips find mine, pressing softly as she whispers, “Thank you for teaching me.”

My body responds instantly to the sight of her—clothes stained with blood and that wild look in her eyes that matches my savagery.

“You’re perfect like this,” I growl against her mouth, pulling her closer. The evidence of our night’s work covers us both, marking us as equals in this moment.

Her fingers trace my chest, leaving dirty streaks across my shirt. The physical proof of what we’ve done together only heightens my reaction to her. My hands tangle in her hair, and she tilts her head back so I can look at her face—a beautiful mess of blood, sweat, and acceptance.

“I’ve never felt so alive,” Eden pants, pressing herself against me. Her eyes shine with obsession. Still, it’s tinged with a true understanding of the monster she’s been chasing.

I groan as she shifts closer, my body rigid with need. The moonlight catches the crimson staining her skin, painting her in shadows and violence. She’s never been more beautiful than in this moment.

“You’re trembling,” I observe, feeling her shiver under my touch despite the mild night air. It’s not fear that causes it, but excitement, anticipation, the thrill of crossing lines she’s only dreamed about until now.

“Show me more,” she pleads, and I know she means more than disposal techniques. She wants the violence, the control, the darkness I’ve kept contained.

“On your knees.” My voice comes out rough as I guide her to where we left our mark on the world.

The fresh earth smells rich and damp, and the moon above us casts a silvery light on the clearing. Eden’s eyes shine brighter than the stars as she drops to the ground, facing me.

Her lips part, and I know she remembers what we did together. The feel of the shovel in her hands. The weight of the dirt as we buried our secret.

“Are you thinking about it?” I ask, my voice low and dangerous. “Are you thinking about the fact that my victim is lying beneath us right now?”

She nods, but her gaze doesn’t waver.

“We made this grave, you and I.” I step closer, pressing into her personal space. “A team effort.”

Her breath catches as my fingers find the hem of her shirt, but she doesn’t flinch. I take that as permission to continue. With one swift motion, I rip her shirt open, buttons popping.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly beneath the ruined fabric. Her breath comes in short gasps as my hands explore her body, mapping the terrain I plan to conquer.

“You should be scared.” I thread my fingers into her hair, tilting her head back to expose the delicate line of her throat. “But I can see that you’re not.”

Her lips curve into a smile. “You know why.”

Yes, I do. It’s the same reason my heart is pounding, and my skin feels too tight for my body.

“Say it.” I want to hear the words from her mouth. I want confirmation that she shares my madness.

“I’m turned on,” she whispers. “I’m aroused by this. By you. By what we’ve done.”

I chuckle. “You’re a monster, just like me.”

“Prove it.” Her voice drops an octave, turning husky with need. “Fuck me over our handiwork, Remy. Right here, where someone lies buried beneath us.”

An animalistic growl rips from my throat as I scoop her up, tossing her onto the soft earth. She lands with a cry, her hair fanning out around her. The sight of her sprawled on our grave, ready and waiting, sends a surge of possessiveness through me.

I drop to my knees between her legs, taking a moment to admire the view. She’s a vision in the moonlight, half-naked and wanting. Her breasts rise and fall rapidly, nipples pebbled.

“You like the idea of fucking over our first victim.” It’s not a question, but I must hear her say it anyway.

“God, yes.” Her hands reach for me, tugging at my shirt. “I love the idea of being so depraved together.”

I let her tear my shirt over my head, then reach for the button of my jeans.

“Wait.” She stops me, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I want to see you. All of you.”

I don’t hesitate. Kicking off my shoes and socks, I strip for her while she lies on the freshly turned earth. The night air hits my bare skin, but I’m on fire. The chill does nothing to dampen my craving as I step out of my jeans, standing before her in all my naked glory.

Her gaze roams over me, drinking in every inch of exposed skin. I flex my arms, enjoying how her eyes widen at the play of muscle. When her gaze lingers on certain parts of my anatomy, I’m glad for the cold night air.

“Now.” She pats the ground beside her. “Take me right here.”

I need no further invitation. My body is demanding release, and I’m ready to give in.

Kneeling between her legs, I hook her knees over my shoulders and sink into her cunt.

Our tempo starts fast and urgent, each thrust devouring the space between us. My hands find her hips, guiding her against me as I drive into her. Her nails dig into my back, and her breath comes in sharp gasps.

“Deeper,” she pants, wrapping her legs around me. “Harder.”

I’ve never been one to deny a lady’s request. Gritting my teeth, I give her everything I’ve got.

The night air cools the sweat on my skin as I drive into Eden harder, her body arching beneath me. The fresh earth beneath us shifts with each thrust, reminding me of what we’ve done. Her hands claw at my back, leaving marks I’ll wear proudly tomorrow.

“You’re mine.” I drag my tongue over her neck, tasting the salt on her skin. “Tell me who owns you.”

“You do,” Eden gasps, her body tightening around me. “Only you, Remy.”

Her submission drives me wild. This woman, who’s stalked me and studied me, now lies beneath me on the grave we dug together.

I slide my hand between us, finding her clit. Her whole body jerks at my touch, a whimper escaping her. The sound echoes through the trees, unrestrained and so damn sexy.

“That’s it,” I encourage, circling it as I maintain my relentless pace. “Let me feel how much you want this.”

Eden’s response is immediate—her inner walls clamp down around me as she comes undone. Her cry of pleasure pierces the night air. There’s no pretense here, no carefully crafted persona. This is pure Eden, stripped bare.

I follow her over the edge, spilling deep inside her with a guttural groan. For a moment, we’re both lost in the intensity of our shared release, our bodies locked on the disturbed earth.

The moon breaks through the clouds, casting silver light across Eden’s flushed skin. Her eyes meet mine, that obsessive gleam now mixed with what I can only describe as adoration. I’ve never seen anyone look at me like that, and it touches something I thought was long dead and cold—my heart.