Page 65 of Grave Possession (Grave #2)
Chapter Fifty-four
Graves
A n abundance of different emotions flicker across Mal’s face in the span of about ten seconds, and I can place every single one of them.
“Dead?” She drags the word out, coming to terms with the reality of the situation.
“Mhmm,” I reply, nodding slowly.
Her fist slams into my arm while I’m lost in the look in her eyes. “What did you kill him for!?”
“OW! What the piss? Why do you think I killed him?”
“I don’t know, Lennox. Enlighten me!”
“Why do I kill anyone, Mallory?” My voice rumbles, dripping with renewed hunger. Her sharp intake of breath lets me know she hears it too.
“I don’t—” she whispers.
“To protect you.”
Encroaching on my space, her words are hushed.
“I don’t need you to protect me.” Oh, I know.
On the way home I called Carla, getting her to request a copy of the triple homicide case file for myself.
Before the Johnson murders, she would’ve been immediately stone-walled, but after our agencies vowed to be more open with exchanging information, the file arrived in my e-mail within minutes.
When I have a moment to myself, I’ll examine it more thoroughly, but what Jefferds relayed to me was accurate.
Mal took out three men, and got creative with one of their bodies.
Mallory threads her fingers through my hair, and I lean into the touch. “I know, but I want to. I need to. That part of me can’t be stopped.”
“You’re going to be taken from me if you get caught.”
So will you . I want to say it, it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I know. However, I resist. I want her to tell me herself. She needs to trust me enough to reveal that darkness to me. “I won’t get caught.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“It’s not my first rodeo, probably won’t be my last.”
“Your hubris is astounding.”
“Thank you,” I reply as she rolls her eyes, trying to hide her little smile.
“So… How many?” she asks.
These are dangerous waters you’re venturing into, little siren. Should I ask you the same question?
“A few,” I reply.
“More than I know about?” I nod. “Wait? You didn’t kill those house fire victims, did you?”
There’s your first slip up, baby. Let the games begin.
Chuckling, I reply, “No, I didn’t kill them.”
The audacity of this woman.
Mal huffs out her fake relief, and I fight to smother the sick thrill thrumming through me. “Phew! That’s good to know. Just the one murder this week to worry about then.”
Could she lay the diversion on any thicker?
“Yep,” I say, popping the ‘p’ just like she does.
I take her hand in mine, interlocking our fingers so she can’t get away.
She looks at me adoringly, scooting her body closer to mine.
Her eyes twinkle, and there’s a gentle smile on her face, too bad it’s not going to last. I return the look, gazing down upon her face, knowing that if I counted there’d be two hundred and sixty-three freckles across her nose and cheeks.
“I never said anything about there being a house fire.” Her smile slowly drops, and she tries to pull her hand from mine, but I hold tight.
“W-what?” Fear claws at her chest as the colour drains from her face.
“You heard me.”
“You had to have mentioned it,” she debates.
“No, I definitely didn’t.”
“Well then I must have read about it in the news…maybe on one of those true crime forums.”
“No, you didn’t. The city police aren’t linking the triple murder to the house fire in the media. They want any witnesses of the fire to come forward without fear of ratting out a murderer.”
“Well that’s fucking sneaky, someone could unknowingly be putting themselves in danger.”
“True, but it’s not my case to lead.” I also highly doubt Mallory is going to hunt some innocent person down, and kill them because they went to the police.
“Well maybe it should be. You have more tact than that fuckwit, Jefferds. ”
“He’s dead, remember?”
“Good…and how did you manage that exactly?”
“Bashed in his face.”
“Oh, that’s…umm.”
“What?”
“Very up close and personal.”
“He made it personal when he threatened to drag you into the station and interrogate you about the night you disappeared.” Mal’s eyes go wide with fear. “Yeah, baby. I killed him because you didn’t have an alibi.”
“Nox…I?—”
“Isn’t it odd though… Three drug dealers being killed on the same night you went looking for drugs.” She audibly gulps, eyes pleading for me to let this go. She’s not ready to let me see this side of her yet.
“Lennox…” she whispers.
“The killer would’ve been completely drenched in blood, and you came home wearing different clothes than what you left in.” She knows I know. How can she not? I’m not a fucking idiot.
Mallory attempts to pull her hand away from me again, and this time I let her.
Turning her back to me, she sits on the side of the bed.
Tension and terror strung so tightly through her body, I doubt she can even breathe a full breath.
Her hair cascades down her back as she hides herself from me, a small tremor wracking her body.
“All such a very big coincidence… Don’t you agree?
” I mutter loud enough for her to hear. I won’t confirm her biggest fear, not now anyway.
I long to have her open up to me about this willingly—show me that side of herself, like I did.
Even if I was behind a mask, she knew what sh e was getting into by engaging with that part of me.
She watched me take Edward away into the shadows.
She knows he died, even if I’ve never confirmed it, he and Ryan never came back to harass her.
Her body freezes in place, head slowly turning back around.
Mallory’s teary eyes lock with mine, and she nods.
I extend my hand to her, a silent plea for her to not pull away from me because I know , even if I don’t confirm it.
Trust me with this , I beg without uttering a word.
Her delicate hand slips into mine, and it fires elation through my soul.
I yank her to me, my arms banding around her as I crash us together against the mattress.
I pour every emotion into this kiss. Until the air around us is thick and heavy with our panting breaths.
The heat coming off her is enough to suffocate me.
My hardness presses into her, and she rolls her hips against me.
Though she breathes out a sound of satisfaction, she says, “We shouldn’t, you’ll make your injury worse. ”
I pull the front of my boxer-briefs down, pressing inside her slowly. “I’ll fuck you whenever I want. Even if my organs have ruptured, and I’m pissing blood. If I want you on my cock, that’s where you’ll be.”
“Hot,” she sarcastically says, giggling. The sound dissolving into a moan as I really start to move. The pain is fucking unbearable, but I can’t stop. She let me in, even if it’s in the most minuscule way. She trusted me, and I feel like I’ve won a war.