Page 25 of Fatally Yours

It was mid-morning by the time we arrived at Officer Wilson’s home.

The day was in full bloom, and the dew was just disappearing from the foliage.

August was singing another tune under his breath, and each word was interlaced with a wicked double meaning that made my stomach flip.

Something about sacrificing a sacred animal to a cruel god made me bite my tongue until I thought I felt the illusion of pain.

At least one of us is looking forward to this.

Despite the uncharacteristic thrill that struck me only hours before, my insides were still swirling with the fury of a swarm of flies.

Even though his wife’s car wasn’t in the driveway, that didn’t mean she wasn’t home or couldn’t come home.

Many things could go wrong, but before I could protest, August turned to me with a steely expression.

“You should go in first,” he said. If my mood could drop any further, it would.

Me first? Alone? With him ? I thought I would rather be buried in that grave again.

Anything could happen, and if he was even a second too late or ran into trouble, something nefarious could happen to me.

Even though we were dead, I was confident I could still experience trauma. Being in the grave taught me that well.

“I don’t want to go in there by myself,” I whined. “With him .” I looked at him with pleading eyes, hoping to change his mind. But just like in life, he wouldn’t budge.

“He hauled me to the morgue, Tash. I can’t just go knocking on his door,” he said curtly.

My gaze fell out the window as he parked on the street.

Just another thing that could go wrong. Mandy shoving those true crime programs down my throat made me more than aware of the dozens of mistakes we were making—parking on the street, doing this in the daytime, and looking suspicious in general. August knew, too. He just didn’t care.

“You’re only missing,” he added.

“No one would survive that amount of blood loss,” I countered, thinking back to those memorable stained sheets. A sly smirk stretched across his face, and I knew his answer would make me want to yank out my hair.

“You did,” he said. “Just not in the traditional sense.” I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose and huffed.

“You’re so goddamn lucky I love you.”

“Damn right I am—” Before he could utter an apology or anything else that might agitate me, my hand went around the door handle, and I made my way out of the car, trudging up to the door.

My head swiveled around, hoping the property was large enough so that nosy neighbors wouldn’t pry, at least not until we were finished. Whatever finished entailed.

After what seemed like forever, I reached the door, glancing back at the car.

August was out and gave me a nod before making his way around the tree line, heading to the back.

My heart was pounding against my ribcage, or so I thought.

It was hard to know what still functioned and what was just a byproduct of habit, illusion, or stress.

Before I could talk myself out of it, my knuckles rapped on the door, making my nausea increase. There were some haunting footsteps coming from the other side, and the temptation to turn tail and run was being beaten into my brain. When the door opened, I was shocked that my legs didn’t collapse.

Officer Wilson’s face was puzzled as his eyes met mine. He was dressed in the typical button-down shirt and slacks, holding a steaming cup of coffee. As soon as he realized it was me, he set it aside, still appearing as bewildered as ever.

“Natasha?”

“Hi, Officer Wilson,” I said sheepishly, entwining my hands in front of my chest. My eyes darted behind him, and I heard no movement from the inside.

That was a good sign, but not a confirmation of the presence of others in his home.

I thanked god, the devil, or whoever that at least he didn’t have kids. Then we would really be in trouble.

“Come in,” he said, stretching his arm out to invite me inside. Just before I entered, I glanced to the side, noting August poking his head out from the side of the house. The illusion of sweat was dotting my forehead as I stepped beyond the threshold.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the door shut behind me.

Something about being alone with him felt suffocating.

It was a fear that I thankfully never had the luxury of experiencing in life.

It was strange how death forced all these terrible events on me.

Suffering was supposed to cease in the afterlife, so why didn’t I get the same luxury?

“Sarah is at a conference, so we have all the time in the world to talk about what’s been going on,” he said, leading me to his living room.

At least his wife wasn’t going to come home.

That was good news—the one lone star in this shit stew.

But that didn’t make the knot in my stomach any less menacing.

When I scanned the happy portraits on the walls, all I could think about was how many people, including me, no longer smiled because of his actions.

All those days of misery, wishing someone would be brought to justice for taking August away from me, and how he and his entire department couldn’t bring themselves to care.

August was right. They didn’t give a fuck.

That was not to mention all the rumors about his lewd behavior. That was another beast entirely.

The anxiety I previously felt sparked into a rage, and I balled my fists as he motioned for me to sit.

I followed his command, feeling my chest tighten as he placed himself across from me.

His suspicious gaze never wavered. He was curious about my disappearance and the idea that I was here alone—or so he thought.

“So, you’ve been missing for a few days,” he began.

“Your parents called me all the way from Mississippi worried sick, you know.” My mouth dried up as I thought about how heartbroken they would be about this situation, and if I would ever see them again.

A prickle of guilt struck me, and I felt my throat want to suffocate me on my dying breath.

“They can’t afford to come up here just yet, but I’m glad you showed up, so we don’t have to inconvenience them,” he continued. Once again, I dug my nails into my palms to try to quell the storm of emotion trying to strike me down. Going missing was not just a simple inconvenience.

There were still people who cared about me despite how insignificant I was in the grand scheme of things.

Even if I were a drug dealer, a prostitute, or a menace to society as a whole, that didn’t mean I still didn’t have people who would mourn if I were spirited away.

His predatory gaze finally met mine, and the urge to scream bubbled up from my throat, only to be stopped by what little self-control I had left.

“I know you’ve had a tough time since August died, but please, do tell me, where have you been?” he pressed. My mouth flapped open, and I struggled to spit out the words past my rapidly changing emotions.

“I-I’ve been… struggling…” I gasped, digging my fingers into the fabric of his couch.

His eyes flicked, making my skin crawl. In that instant, I knew all those stories about him were true.

In my heart, I already acknowledged the answer, but it was different to see it in the flesh, to be so vulnerable and alone, presented like a lamb to the slaughter.

A sacred animal to be sacrificed to a cruel god, just like August was singing about.

“Struggling does not warrant wasting police resources. You know that, don’t you?” he said. I nodded, trying to avoid his prying gaze as my lip slipped between my teeth, hoping to stop my nerves from making me lose my resolve.

“I’m sorry. It’s been tough…”

“Sorry doesn’t really cut it, Natasha. You can get a large fine for that, jail time…”

My eyes darted from window to window, scanning the room, hoping August would appear and put a stop to this madness. My foot tapped nervously as I attempted to stall, praying my hero would appear and rescue me from his violating gaze.

“I understand…”

Where is he?

“I don’t think you do.” Before I could comprehend what was happening, he stood up and closed the gap between us, snatching my wrist and pulling me to my feet.

I gasped as I stumbled into him, feeling raw fear course through my undead veins.

It was beyond unfair that August was so undaunted by the trials of death.

And yet, I still felt as weak as I did in life.

Why can’t I be as fearless as he is?

He squeezed my pale wrist in his grasp, pulling me forward until I was an icy breath away from his face. My teeth pressed together as I pinched my eyes shut. The only thing I could think about was how great it would be if August appeared and stuck an icepick in his brain to stop this insanity.

“Maybe you and I can cut a little deal,” he hissed. “You were always a bit of a tease. Maybe that’s why a lowlife like August wanted a goody-two-shoes like you.”

If he only knew what we did to Devin.

My eyes widened as he tossed me to the floor. I let out a cry, hoping August would hear and come to my aid—that was if he successfully made it in here. There was no way I could defend myself, especially if he were still fumbling with a lock or screen.

Officer Wilson caged me between him and the floor, forcing his knee between my legs until they were spread.

His breaths were primal, making panic rip through my body.

I let out another scream, attempting to strike him in the face, but to no avail.

He pinned my hands, rendering me helpless.

I was no match for him, and he knew it. I was missing, gone, insignificant.

He could do whatever he wanted, and no one would believe a word I said.

His fist closed around the hem of my shirt as I squirmed beneath him, trying to free myself from his oppressive touch.

“No! Stop it!” My voice continued to go unheard as he pulled it up, exposing the puckering scars from where the man I loved ingrained his passion into me.

There was no mistaking what they were—the mark of a fatal wound.

His lustful face fell as his brow furrowed, trying to comprehend how I had obtained such gnarled marks.

“What the fuck?” he questioned. Just then, there was a spine-tingling popping sound, and he let out a groan as August appeared behind him with a hammer in hand. Officer Wilson’s eyes rolled back as he went limp, falling beside me. Taking my chance, I wormed my way out.

Once I was on my feet, I pulled my shirt back in place and turned to August. My hand drew back without hesitation, and my palm met his face. The sound reverberated through the room as Officer Wilson muttered something beneath his breath as he passed in and out of consciousness from the blow.

“I deserved that,” August murmured.

“What the hell took you so long?!” I snapped. “That asshole tried to fuck me!” He recovered quickly from my assault, knowing it was well-earned. His face was dark as his rage emanated from every pore in his icy, dead body.

“I know,” he said coldly, staring down at Officer Wilson with a hate-filled expression. The hammer was still gripped in his hand, its head splattered with a hint of crimson. Never before had I seen him so bitterly angry, not even the night he returned and witnessed my betrayal.

“He’ll get what’s coming to him. Just like everyone else.”