Page 29

CHAPTER 29

WOLF

A car pulls up while I’m outside her cabin feeding her chickens because I know she’s too tired to do it herself. I step to the side, making sure whoever it is can’t see me. A chicken clucks stupidly as it walks across my feet. I kill people for sport, but I don’t harm the damn thing because it’s her’s.

I watch as my Muffin talks to her childhood fling, the boy who stole my first kiss, and I’m filled with a familiar craving. I like to kill, and I do it well. This could end so quickly since she doesn’t like me playing with my food.

I bristle, every inch of my body going tense as he steps into her cabin. She’s freshly fucked by me, still smelling like my skin on hers, and he’s in her intimate space. I try to hide my reaction, but my knuckles turn white as I clench my fists, and something raw inside me churns.

I walk over to the edge of the house, boots crunching against the ground, but the chickens don’t tell on me, and Red doesn’t notice me standing to the side, watching outside her window. The noisy little birds really do make this easy, and I lean down to scratch the brown one—that’s my favorite.

Bright sunshine floods the cabin, making it quite peaceful. If it was just my Muffin standing in the center of it, it would be perfect. Bobby stares at the bloodstain, and I fill with pride. I protected her when he never even thought to, and if that scares him, then good.

Red sits down at her granny’s old desk, eyes moving to the ring box. My heart jumps into my throat at the thought of her putting it on in front of him.

Bobby, I’m getting married, and his dick is so big it would put yours to shame.

She hands him a sealed envelope, and a surge of jealousy courses through me. Did she write him a letter? Why?

He takes it, but he looks nervously between her and the floor. “Are you okay, Red?” he asks. “You don’t seem like yourself since Granny died.”

Who the hell is he to ask her something like that? He doesn’t know my Muffin from a hole in a stump, and I want to kill him just for the suggestion she might have ever been his.

“Granny died when I was sixteen, Bobby. Believe it or not, you just don’t know me that well.”

The pride I so often feel for her rises in me. She’s so strong, so beautiful, and I’m such a filthy backstabber for all the things I’ve done, and there are only more to come.

“I used to,” he argues with her, his face filling with a passion I'd like to cut out of him. He has a wife, so why the fuck is he worried about mine?

“Not anymore,” she says, and much to my enjoyment, her irritation is starting to show.

“That might be true, but I think the old you would’ve cleaned up that bloodstain.”

She wasn’t here to clean it, you stupid fucker. She was in Pennsylvania, then New York, then Tennessee, and finally Florida.

“It’s called a stain for a reason, Bobby. I’ve tried.”

He stares at it, and both of us know she’s lying, but he’s too much of a coward to say it.

“You’re sure you weren’t down at your old place?” he asks, hinting at some knowledge of what happened over there. Did she tell him something? He’s refusing to leave well enough alone, and he’ll regret it if he doesn’t end this now.

“I’m sure. Thanks for your help with the bill,” she says, obviously hinting for him to leave. At least she’s not passing him secret messages.

“Bobby, do you know the name of our electric company?” she asks.

He pauses first, thinking about it before answering.

“You know, I really don’t know. Does it matter?”

“No, I suppose not. Well, thanks again,” she says. Is she having trouble paying the bill? It’s the least I could do after everything.

He nods as he walks toward the front door, and she follows him out.

“Take care of yourself, Red. You can always talk to me if you feel like it,” he says as he turns toward her.

My muffin isn’t looking at him, so I know she doesn’t see him leaning in to kiss her. My hand slides into my pocket and pulls out a knife. His lips collide with hers—messy, wet, disgusting—for only a fraction of a second before she shoves him away.

“What are you doing?” she shouts. “You’re married! What the hell?”

He groans, but he doesn’t seem too apologetic. “Come on, Red. You know what I want from you. I’ve asked before. I could pay that bill for you if you make it worth my while.”

I was just thinking the same thing, but it seems so much nastier coming from him.

“Go home to your wife,” she says.

“Just think about it, Red. I’ll pay your bills, and I’ll buy you things. You just got to give me what I want. You’re not doing well alone out here anyway, and I can’t have two wives.”

She’ll be doing perfect when she accepts my proposal.

“Thanks, but no thanks, Bobby.”

My rage calms slightly with her flat-out denial and then cools a bit more when she slams the door in his face. He walks away from my Muffin’s cabin with his miserable tail between his legs.

But when he climbs into his truck, I follow.