Page 10 of Seven Graves

“He sure didn't, did he?” He grinned, clicking his tongue and starting a new circle around poor Mr. Nightshade. “The thing about makin’ peace sometimes, love…is that sometimes the price for it is a little bloody. A little violent. It gets a bit more violent when lines are crossed and people take it upon themselves to try to lay claim to somethin’ that don’t belong to them. ”

“Like the finger you’re pissed at me about? Is that what this is?” My heart thrashed and he paused, glancing up at me. The Devil must be a handsome fucker, ‘cause I swear I’m staring him in the face.

“Ah, see…but I didn’t take that finger, love.”

“Are you on glue? I watched you pull the shit out of your pocket.”

He chuckled and it sent a chill down my spine. “That you did. But it was Conor that plucked that finger off. Not me. He gave it to me as a gift, and I made the mistake of thinking it was mine to take. See how that works?”

“Sure,” I shrugged. “But I still don’t see why it’s my problem.”

Malek leaned down and picked one of Conor’s fingers up off his lap, turning and flicking it and honestly…

gross, dude. Like, why? “That finger belonged to somebody that took somethin’ that wasn’t his.

Somethin’ I’ll never get back. He disrespected me.

Worse, though…he disrespected her. And Conor…

well, he disrespected you . And as a man that don’t play nice when it comes to this kind of thing… ”

“Lemme guess, you took that as disrespect?”

He beamed at me from across the room, flashing that dimple and my insides fluttered. “Precisely.”

“Well. Good luck with your war on that, Dexter . Disrespect is something I’m used to. Whatever it is you think he did, you wasted your time and his life. I could care less what anybody thinks of me. I dunno why it bothers you .”

“Because you’re mine, Nathair Bheag. And nobody gets away with that .”

Run, Seven…he’s insane. This is bad.

“Clearly there was a misunderstanding. I’m outta here.” I turned to leave again…and again…he stopped me in my tracks.

“You walk out that door and this goes from coverin’ up a murder…

to accessory to murder.” I skidded to a stop and my face tingled.

“See, the thing is, I have this tech guy. He’s got video feed of you cleanin’ that room.

Feed of you pulling up to this house and walking to the door…

lettin’ yourself in. It can be altered to make it look however I need it to look.

I’m just askin’ for a little time with you. Is it that unbearable?”

I think I’m gonna be one of those fainters I just thought it wise to inwardly laugh at.

Sweat started dripping from the edges of my head scarf and rolling down the back of my neck.

I slowly turned around. “You’re fucked in the head, bud.

Is this how you get dates? I’ve been on every shitty kind you can think of, and I’ve heard some despicable lines, but… this might be a chart topper.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Please?”

“Oh, my God,” I whispered under my breath.

“Bye.” I snapped myself back around, finally reaching the start of that hallway and decided…

if he’s gonna kill me, then fine. But I’m not gonna make it easy for him.

I’ll get as far as I can and then when and if he catches up with me, I’ll put up the fight of my life.

I refuse to be the stereotypical bimbo in horror movies that trips over stale air or doesn’t know how to put a car in neutral.

Me and Death are chums…it won’t end like this. Not for me.

His voice rang out behind me. “You’re really gonna just walk out on your gift? That’s kinda rude.” I caught the corner of the hallway with my gloved hand and popped my head around it to look at him.

“Next time try flowers, psycho. If you were gonna kill me, I think you’d have done it already.

If you’re trying to take my panties home, then I doubt you’d really have your ‘tech guy’ try to blackmail me for a date.

That seems pretty beneath you. So, yes. I am.

Keep your phalanges and your blood money, Hannibal. Deuces.”

“Haha… Hannibal .”

He’s completely unfazed and unhinged. Fuck, why am I turned on?

Shut the hell up and get outta here, you desperate, thirsty husk.

I rolled my eyes and let go of the wall, walking with purpose out that door and through the staircases.

That front entrance never seemed more beautiful.

And to be honest, cameras or not…as soon as I made it under the cover of the night sky, I fucking bolted for my car.

There wasn’t anyone out here getting my crap out of the trunk, either.

I’m actually really curious what his plans were for me and that poor traitorous escort, but not enough to fuck around and find out.

He must have known it, too. The gate to the property was already opened again.

What’s normally over an hour drive, I made in forty-five minutes.

My mind’s been racing as fast as this car.

It still was when I blearily unlocked my door and stumbled into my apartment, completely and utterly exhausted in every sense, and for some reason…

not at all worried if this fucker followed me home or not.

For one, I kept one eye on my rear-view the entire way.

And for two, I’m not too tired to lay out every pointy thing I have and a Louisville Slugger within reach of my bed.

I came out of the jumpsuit and did an impressive swan dive onto my bed that I was, quite frankly, sad no one witnessed…

and tried to let sleep take me now that I finally had a chance to embrace it in solitude.

Trouble with that is…sometimes you’re so completely annihilated that everything shuts down except for your mind.

I laid there with drool actively trickling from the corner of my mouth, wondering why the only thing I could see when my eyes closed was a pair of green eyes.

Men are such dicks. It’s not even worth the effort anymore of going through the trouble of dating anyone just so you can even just get laid .

They’re either terrified of me, I’m too weird, too Amy Lee for their taste, or they’re just downright fucking boring .

Not once has anybody brought flowers to one of these dates, picked me up from this apartment, held a door open for me, or even so much as stayed the night after they made me ride their lazy asses for two seconds because they’re too entitled and full of themselves to make me feel good for once… but this guy… killed for me?

Why?

Why in God’s name did I just get invited to watch this perfect stranger play real-life Operation on somebody he was in cahoots with, for the sole purpose of getting my attention and spending time with me?

And why do I get the feeling that I was absolutely right in what I said to him before I did a five second relay out of that house?

What did Mr. Nightshade do or say that was so bad that it earned him a spot in that fancy chair tonight?

And what the hell did it have to do with me?

Somehow, deep down, I knew this shit wasn’t over.

But the first thing I’m doing before work tomorrow is taking that fucking ad off the Dark Web.