Page 15 of The Blood we Crave: Part Two

“My cabin.” Lyra’s quiet voice drifts past my shoulder. “It’s deep in the forest, way off the radar. Even if the police did show up, there’s a bunker beneath the foundation. They’d never find him.”

My spine goes stiff.

“No.”

I turn around slowly, staring down at her. I notice that her hair is pulled into a bun, and for some reason, I want to take it down. I don’t like the idea of her containing those wild curls.

“Why? It’s not an estate. There’s no butlers or private chefs.” She lifts an eyebrow, full of attitude I don’t appreciate. “But you’ll be hidden. You’ll be safe.”

“You won’t be.”

I hate that I said it out loud. That I couldn’t stop myself from saying it.

A deep V forms between her brows, so I slide my hands into my pockets to keep from slipping my thumb across her forehead to soothe the wrinkles. Touching her, being inside of her—God—had been a horrible mistake.

I told her if I had her once, I wouldn’t be able to stop, and I meant it.

It’s all I can think about when she’s around. How she felt, what she sounded like, that my blood flows through hers, and how well she’d taken everything I’d given.

I want her, I won’t deny that to myself. She’s the only person I’ve had any form of physical pull to, but that is all it is—a physical, biological response. That’s all it can be.

Eyes are on my back, all with different questions, but none of them will get an answer. I can barely admit it inside my own mind that the reason I’d left, why I disappeared and why I came back, was because of her.

All because of Lyra. To protect my bloody, cherry-flavored girl.

If the copycat went after May, she is next on his list. If Odette Marshall figured it out, it won’t take him long. I can’t risk her. The closer I get to her, the more danger she falls into.

“From you?” she asks, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “What are you going to do, kill me in my sleep?”

“Don’t flirt with me like that.” I smirk, watching the color of her cheeks turn pink.

Her anger doesn’t take away her desire for me. It’s embedded in her, and nothing I do will change that. I know because it works the same way for me. Our connection is a major inconvenience.

“You don’t have another option.” She chews the inside of her cheek but stands a little taller than normal. “It’s my cabin or jail. Be thankful I’m offering it in the first place.”

A smile tugs at my mouth. “Impressive backbone you’ve developed, Miss Abbott. Let me know who to send the thank-you card to.”

Maybe she did learn something from our lessons.

I like the way she stands in front of me, even if the confidence is fake and it’s fueled by the pain I caused. Lyra’s becoming more comfortable with the creature that lurks beneath her skin, no longer hiding from it.

All that to say, it doesn’t change my mind.

I can’t let anything happen to her. I especially can’t let an unoriginal serial murderer have her. She doesn’t deserve my hate, but she deserves to live more. I won’t put her at risk.

“I don’t want to share my space with you either, Thatcher. But it’s all you’ve got.”

“No.”

She lets out a little sigh, rolling her eyes. “Jail it is, then. Rot for all I care.”

“I—”

“Did something happen between you two?” Briar interrupts me, calling Lyra out for the false narrative she is painting.

Looking at me and spewing words she thinks will affect me. Pretending that little heart inside her pale chest isn’t beating for me. Like my ghost doesn’t exist just for me. Like she doesn’t bleed for me.

However, the rest of the people in this room don’t need to know that.