26. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Dahlia

F or the first three years after Tyler left me, every October has been the same. Give or take, obviously, since I couldn't do a repeat on the people I already killed.

Duh.

Anyway.

Up until this year, I had a checklist, and I stuck to it. Hadn't swerved an inch to the left. Not half of a step to the right. Deviating from my carefully constructed plans could have catastrophic results.

"I could get caught. If we moved in together," I tell Tyler. I kind of, sort of lie to him.

He's all business as he squirts soap into his hand. He's already washed my hair and I did his. I even soaped him first. I'm greedy like that.

He distributes the clear liquid between his hands and looks at me. "No one's going to catch you. "

"How can you—" His fingers are magic. He massages my neck, my shoulders. Looks at me when I moan and lean into him. "How can you be sure?"

"For starters, I promised you we'll never be apart again."

There's room for more than two people in his shower. Space for both of us to…I don't know—dance on the beautiful slate tiles.

Tyler's not in the mood to dance.

He's in the mood to push me against the wall. To pin me to it with his much larger body. Continues to massage my neck as if his cock isn't throbbing on my belly.

"I won't break that promise." He can't hide his eyes, though. They darken. Tyler screams through them. Warns and vows and everything in between. "You won't get caught."

"I'm sorry. It won't happen. I won't move in here." My throat is tight. My voice breaks. "Nope. No, no, no. You can move to my place. But I'm staying."

"That place is filled with bad memories, Dahl. Everything's breaking down. The neighborhood isn't safe. Do you want that for our kids?"

"We'll teach them to kill people." My fake grin doesn't work on Tyler.

His lips press into a firm line. His gaze searches mine. "You stay there because it belongs to your family. Correct?"

I'm not a crier. Hate it, actually. It made Al laugh when the stupid tears dropped without my permission.

"Let it out," he demands.

Al is gone. Has been gone for seven years .

Tyler's here, instead. He kisses my tears when they streak my cheeks. When my chin wobbles.

"I'm your family." He grabs the soap bottle again, squeezes, brushes his thumbs on my nipples. "The only remaining one. They were great people. They loved you. And they're gone. They're not coming back, sweetheart."

He splays his hands on my breasts, rubbing soap on the Mine tattoo. Moves his deft hands to the sides of my breasts, feeling their weight in his palms. Feeling me .

It's hard to pay attention to how nice and comforting it is. It's hard because he says things no one's said to me in years. Or ever.

Before Tyler stormed into my life again, I had every intention of forcing him to see reason. Eventually. I knew I'd do anything to get him out of his own head and have him back, this time for good.

Hearing him say he's my family— my family —that's something I couldn't imagine in my wildest dreams.

"I'll lose a part of them if I sell the place." I sigh, my shoulders sagging. "I could've moved out by now. For the past two years, I could've afforded a better apartment."

"I know, Dahl." Tyler guides me to stand beneath the spray of the shower, washes me clean and bam . We're back against the wall. "The lines stretching outside your shop mean you can afford a really good one."

He lathers soap on my pussy. Massages the short hair. I stay motionless, my pulse kicking up at the sight of Ty grabbing a razor .

"I'm so proud of you for it." The cascading water highlights the muscles on his chest and arms. "Of the successful woman you've become. The one I always knew you would be. A phoenix rising from the ashes. You're the bravest person I've ever met. The most caring one."

He's strong. His chest is wide. The veins in his arms are delicious. He's all man. An attentive man. He hasn't forgotten I like my pussy shaved.

"I couldn't move out of there." I pout, trapped between arousal and bad memories. "It would gut me to think anyone else lives there. I had good memories there too."

Tyler kneels before me, spreading my legs. Right foot right. The left one to the left. He nods while dragging the razor over my lips that are already swollen for him. Says nothing while he flicks his eyes from my pussy to my face.

"They'd ruin those, whoever moved in. They'd taint the bedroom where Ian and I told each other scary stories after bedtime."

Tyler taps the razor on his shower's tiles. He examines it, makes sure the blades are clean before running it in the area over my clit.

"Mom and I baked cakes together." A low, insistent throb has my clit hardening. My knees are weak. I don't stop talking. Tyler has to understand where I'm coming from. Even when I want to burst out of my skin with how hot I am for him. "Dad taught me how to carve a turkey when I turned ten. Have I told you that? "

"Yes, beautiful. Don't move." Tyler shaves the other side of my pussy. Kisses it. He parts my lips and drags the razor until I feel clean and raw. "Good girl."

"Too many memories, good ones, were—oh, fuck , Tyler." He discards the razor, and his face is buried in my pussy. His tongue licks the sensitive area, and I'm so high I think I'm levitating. "That's so inappropriate."

"What is?" His thumb nudges against my tighter hole, his eyes gleaming from below.

"Licking me while I'm talking about my dead family." My mouth scolds him, the rest of my body encourages Tyler by arching forward. Opening up. "Inappropriate."

"And I fucked my fist while you were in there destroying Ben." He cocks an eyebrow, shoving his thumb into my ass. "That's inappropriate too."

My palms immediately go to his hair. Gripping, pulling, dragging him to me. I genuinely thought he'd be disgusted by this part of me, of what I do in the bakery. I don't just stick a knife in someone's throat. I don't shoot them. I enjoy what I do and it's sick.

But Tyler's not grossed out. He likes it. Tyler likes it so much that he came.

I have to have his mouth on mine. Yet he won't budge.

"Tyler," I beg. "Can you please fuck me?"

"We're fixing our housing problem first."

Except we're not fixing anything. His fingers spread my lips. His mouth assaults my pussy, my lips, my clit. He flicks his tongue on my clit, his thumb fucking my ass. It goes on forever, this beautiful torture .

He stretches it on purpose, the monster. When I finally come, I'm a sobbing mess, trembling and screaming his name. My fangs dig into my bottom lip and I fuck his face. He yanks his thumb out, shoving two fingers into my ass until I come again.

I cry. I scream. I beg for him.

My man.

My family.

Mine.

"We won't sell your apartment."

He's up on his feet, quickly soaping his fingers. Then his lips are everywhere. My lips, my jaw, the curve of my neck. He makes a fist in my hair and tugs so he'll have access to more of me.

"You move in here. You'll make a mess of my cock whenever the fuck I tell you to. We'll break in my kitchen. You'll make my heart whole again. And I'll love every minute of it. When you miss the old place…" He bites the tip of my nose, pulling me back to the hot water. "We'll go visit."

I nibble on the corner of my lip.

" No isn't an answer I'm willing to accept." Tyler's cock is still hard. His gaze is harder. Stoney. "You're not going to live in that place. Your home is here."

Suspicion is a cruel sentiment. It makes you doubt your loved ones. It ruins the fuzzy feeling in your heart. That's also what's kept me alive and out of prison for years. What else will he want to control?

"What's wrong?" He frowns.

I say nothing .

"I promised you that you won't get caught, remember?" Tyler brushes a strand of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear. "You'll be safe. Nothing will happen to your routine."

"That…" Breathe, Dahlia. This is good. It's weird, yeah, but accept it. Just roll with it. "Sounds great."

"There's another issue." Storm clouds descend on Tyler's expression.

"What issue?"

The last word is barely out of my mouth before Tyler lifts me up from beneath my thighs and impales me with his cock.

"I wasn't inside you. And I needed it," he grunts out, pressing his forehead to mine. "I tried to be patient. Listen to you. Be gentle. Can't do it anymore. I'm a fucking animal when it comes to you. I have to fuck you and you're going to let me."

"Yes." I dive my fingers into his hair, meeting him in the middle for a kiss. "Please."

He's hard and throbbing. Aggressive and violent. Each thrust delivers heat, and lust and love. His biceps bulge as he fucks me against the wall again and again.

"So beautiful, Dahlia. You're going to be even more beautiful when I put a baby inside you." Tyler thickens inside me, his girth stretching me. "I can't stop thinking about it. Every time I'm inside you. You'll have my babies, understand?"

"Yes," is all I can say.

My orgasm steals the rest of my words and I hold on to Tyler for dear life. I scratch and mark his scalp, and he gives me his seed. Gives me our babies. He's not quiet when he comes. His manly groan makes my toes curl .

We're content after that. Silently happy for long, wonderful minutes. He dries me off with a towel, helps me into one of his heather gray Henleys.

Tyler shakes his head in the somber, sexy way of his when I ask for his boxer briefs. I'm willing to bet he's never going to wash them.

"You have to catch up on some sleep, little one. I shouldn't keep you up." Tyler's eyebrows knit. We're in his bedroom, beneath the thick covers in an apartment that's ours. Another patch to add to our messed-up, perfect quilt of a life. "There's something I have to tell you first."

He's right. I've been drowsy.

I'm not anymore. My eyes snap open, my fingers curling possessively around Tyler's wrist. "Tell me. We'll handle anything. Together."

"I like that word." His thumb strokes my cheek. "Together."

"We'll stay together for hours. Later." Impatience and nervousness swirl in my veins. "What's going on? Do you have a lover? Who do I have to kill?"

"Another woman…" Tyler doesn't move one second. I blink, and his lips are on mine.

The kiss is surprising. It's soft and full of devotion. He's giving me himself. Telling me through the sexy swipe of his tongue on the seam of my lips that there's been no one else. That he wasn't lying when he said that before.

His dark eyes are tortured once he pulls back. "Someone's hunting me. "

My lips part to tell him it's been me. Before I say a word, he offers me a short, knowing smile.

"Another person. Another killer."

"The one you've been provoking on your blog?"

"Yes." How and what and who are meaningless questions. Ones Tyler doesn't bother bringing up. "You've been busy tonight, so I don't assume you read the last post."

"I haven't." Dread lines the pit of my stomach, heavy and, quite frankly, annoying. I don't fear anyone anymore. I kill them. I grip Tyler harder. "Did that fucker dox you?"

"No, he won't publish my home address. That is, if he has it." The rage building in me bleeds out and infects Tyler. His eyes harden, his jaw tics. "He's furious that I fucked up his plans. He'll want to settle the score in person. And since you live here now, since you're mine , he could come after you to get to me."

"He'll see us together. Might already have," I finish Tyler's train of thought. Run my hand through his damp hair. Tilt my head to the side and bite his wrist. "Fun times."

"Figured you'd say that." Tyler grips my thigh. Places it over his. "You need to have your guard up until we're done making a plan to catch him."

Image upon image flash before me. Tyler and I wearing black clothes. Having masks on. Strolling down stranded alleyways and back streets. Both of us hiding butcher knives beneath our coats.

Taking turns on slashing the FyndUsHere Killer.

Blood everywhere.

"I love that. "

"Me too, little savage." His eyes darken. His voice, however, softens. "I wouldn't want to do it with anyone else but you."

"The past bothers you." My enthusiasm deflates at the sadness in his eyes. "How we weren't together then."

"I think about how I wasn't prepared. How I focused on the now. How I didn't see further than that, how I didn't save the three of you." His tormented expression turns somber. He realizes he couldn't do anything with it. He blames himself regardless. "That day you called me from work, about Ian breaking down doors and killing our neighbors from the first floor and up, I ran home so fast. I needed to save my grandma and you. I needed to catch Ian and save him too. None of this was his fault. All of it was Al's fault."

This confession. These words. Tyler only told me that being together would ruin us. He hasn't opened up. Never told me what it was like for him.

By the time Tyler made it to the apartment building, there was nothing left to save. Mrs. Price had taken her last breath minutes ago. The gray matter of Ian's brain was splattered on my shirt. My face. My hair.

Tyler found me in his apartment. Sobbing and screaming. Baring my teeth to any police officer who tried to get near Ian, Mrs. Price or me. They couldn't take them from me. They couldn't.

Then Tyler. He stormed inside. Shocked first. Shouting second.

"You gripped the three chairs in your dining room and smashed them against the wall." I search his face for answers. For something to reconcile what I witnessed that day and what he's telling me. "You were so mad. My heart bled for you. It was worse than my own pain."

"I hurt, Dahlia, because I couldn't help you. Any of you. Watching the three of you there tore out the last shred of hope I had. Took my sanity with it." He leans in to kiss my forehead. "I had to fix it. Salvage what's left. And that was you, love."

"Separating yourself from me was your solution," I finish his sentence. Repeating the part I already know. "That's why you did it. That's why you clung on to it."

"Nothing else made sense. Nothing could explain this tragedy." Deep breath. Confident gaze. He's sad, but not torn. We're finally whole. "Your parents being shot at a mugging gone wrong. What your uncle had put you and Ian through. Your meltdowns. Me falling in love with a seventeen-year-old. Then that . I had to make sense of the world. Had to think and think fucking fast about how to protect you."

"What made this year special?" My fingers trail to his neck, index and middle finger pressing on Tyler's pulse point. The simple joys in life—reveling in the fact that he's alive. "Why'd you come for me this year?"

"The pull between us." His hand on my thigh pins me to his body. "You feel that, don't you, little savage?"

"Always." I murder people to silence the voices in my head. And for fun. I'm ruthless and unapologetic as fuck. But with Tyler, I'm softer than melted butter. "Always."

"I couldn't deny it a second longer." His lips quirk at one side, offering me a sad smile. "Dahl, you should know I'm still nowhere near the man I used to be. Never will be. "

My lips form a smile for him too.

"I'm not afraid anymore. You should know that too." His confidence is hot as hell. "It took me years—took me kissing you—to get over the fear of losing you. At first, I thought one kiss and I'll go back to hiding. Couldn't. I was suffocating without you. You're addictive, beautiful, mesmerizing. Mine . I had to fight for you. Fight myself to get back to you."

That feeling I have when I'm onto a new recipe? The butterflies, the rush. The high from imagining my customers' smiles.

That's nice.

This—Tyler and his brutal honesty—that's better. So much better. Even baby spiders can't compare.

My throat is clogged. My lungs burn.

"I have nothing left to lose, little savage." His smile widens by some. He tries, for me. "My anger? Gone. Anxieties? Not here. Money, apartment, my fucking things ? I don't give a fuck. You, though? I can't lose you. You're mine. I hate how I let this go on for so long. How fucked my brain had been. I'm so sorry. I wish I could go back to that day in my old apartment. Erase the years we weren't together. I'm not sure I regret it, because it gave me a peace of mind, knowing you were safe, but—"

He doesn't finish his sentence. He assaults me with his lips. This kiss, unlike the other before it, is hungry. Ravenous. This is desperation layered with hundreds of hundreds of apologies. I don't need them. It's really nice to have them, though.

"I forgive you, Tyler." I don't tell him I forgave him the day he left our apartment complex and never returned. I like his apologies just where they are, thank you very much. "I love you."

"I swore to you before and I swear it again." His lips are swollen. I bit them just now when we kissed. Marked the man as mine. "Fate won't take you from me. No one will. I'd like to see them try. I'd kill every person in this city, and I won't lose sleep over it, if that means keeping you safe. So, yes, we're going to come up with a plan. We're going to hunt the FyndUsHere Killer down. Then we're eliminating the threat. We'll eliminate all the ones that come after them."

"You could help me with killing people, too. In the bakery, if you'd like."

"I'd love to." He studies my face. Sees through me. "When did you start? It was a meltdown, wasn't it? And I wasn't there. Fuck, I—"

"Shh."

Air surges into my lungs. I realize how desperate I've been to have him back in my life. The only person other than my brother who ever understood me without words. The only person I wanted to understand me.

"Yes, it was a meltdown. My chest tightened, and I felt it coming in September that first year you were gone. Simmering beneath my skin. I'd see flashes of Al in my apartment." I growl with anger. "Trailing behind me when I went to work. And you weren't there, Ty. You wouldn't have been there if I lost my shit." His forehead crinkles, and I'm quick to reassure him. "I couldn't blame you. Still don't. I had to deal with it myself."

"I'm so sorry, Dahlia. So sorry. "

He means to kiss me. I put my hand on his lips, pushing him back. I don't do pity. No. Nope.

"My body talked to me. Something inside guided me to do what I did. I started compiling a list of worthless people, and that calmed me."

That day in the bakery, one of my favorite customers walked in with a bruise on her cheek. Well, she didn't actually walk inside. Her filth of a husband dragged her there by her arm, almost breaking it. That was my cue. The sign telling me where to start.

"Killing them made the pain go away. October ended, and the itch went along with it. The year after, the itch and Al both returned in June. By then, I knew how to handle it. I looked forward to October and then ones that followed."

"I won't ask you to stop," Tyler deadpans, ending our conversation. Good thing he does. My eyes are getting heavy. "And I'll take you up on your offer and join you."

"Yay," I murmur. "I have just the right person for you to start with. In a few days, you'll start with a bang. Until then, you're welcome to watch. You need to build up stamina."

He chuckles, then hugs me so tight that it's hard to breathe.

I wish he'll suffocate me every day for the rest of my life.