31. CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY

Dahlia

M y tarp has been sliced into neat squares. Shoved into three large, black trash bags. They're placed in the corner, waiting to be hauled outside and thrown into the dumpster.

My nails, hands, and face have been wiped clean of any trace of blood.

The dogs have been fed. Flesh in the freeze dryer, bones are in the freezer downstairs.

"All clean." Tyler puts the last of the knives back in its place. He looks at me over his shoulder, a small smile curling his lips up. "What?"

"What, what?" My hands are in the pockets of my bright orange wool dress. Another gift from Tyler. "I didn't say anything."

"Didn't have to." One sweep of the paper towel on my stainless-steel sink, and it's dry. Tyler turns to me, wiping his hands on his dark blue jeans. "Your face did the talking for you."

I'm not the only one. His talks too. His eyes are droopy.

He's exhausted, though he'll never admit to it.

We've been running on three-to-four-hours of sleep a night over the past few days. Killing people and getting rid of their bodies. Fucking in that break-your-bed kind of way every day, even yesterday when he said he wouldn't.

He hasn't stopped being protective and possessive for a second. Tyler's been walking me to work every sunrise. My own personal bodyguard. I don't need one, but he won't hear of it. It's sweet.

It's even sweeter when we hunt for Johnathan together.

We keep our eyes open for him. We sense him nearby.

We ignore him.

We ignore him while Ty walks me to work. While we talk about video games and baking until we get to my bakery. That's how we fool him.

That's how we buy time while we've been conspiring against him. I doubt he realizes that.

I doubt he has the slightest clue that tomorrow, October 31 st , will be his last day on this planet.

Tyler hides his yawn behind a cough.

My baby.

I should show him compassion. Demand we head home to actually sleep right now.

Impossible. He's leaning toward me, and I'm drawn to him the same as I always have .

My fragile heart. My sadistic hands. My aching pussy. My mouth and ass.

I'm all his.

"Oh, yeah?" I'm selfish for teasing him. For squeezing my tits between my arms the way I do. None of us is going to rest anytime soon. "What else did my face have to say?"

"Plenty, little savage." Three steps and his black hoodie grazes the front of my dress. His palms cup my cheeks, sending heat everywhere. "I see through you. Through this wicked grin. These sharp fangs and wild eyes. I even know what you want. But I'd rather hear you say it."

"You." Having him here is the only thing I truly ever wanted. Some nights, I wake up to him fucking my mouth and I cry with joy. I'm so ridiculously happy. "You."

"I'll take that answer."

I won't.

Tyler deserves better. I might be in a daze, surrounded by a sickly-sweet halo of love. I can still speak, though. Can still tell him how I feel. He's been generous with his compliments, handing them out like I was a kid in a costume at his doorway who kept screaming, Treat.

"I love watching you in here with me." Once the words start, it's easier to let everything out. "In my torture chamber. I love it."

It's easier still since Tyler's smile widens. He even kisses the tip of my nose, then swipes his thumb over my cheek to clean what I assume is blood.

"You like that? "

" Love ," I emphasize. There's a dried red stain on his collarbone, and it's my turn to suck my thumb and brush it off him. The touch earns me another kiss on my nose. A nibble after that. "Helping, but not overbearing. You make the whole process so much more fun. You know exactly what I need, and you give it to me. Like we've been doing it for years."

"I'm glad, Dahlia." For a brief moment, Tyler yanks me closer to him. He presses his nose to my hair, inhaling me before pulling back. "More than that. I'm finally at peace. Finally able to be the man you need without this constant, debilitating fear of losing you. It's not there anymore. There's only fight, and selfishness, and possessiveness left in my heart. And love."

"Love's important."

"Yes, it is." His eyes darken. His fingers on my arms dig into my skin. Despite his exhaustion, he's determined. Needy. "I love you."

"I love you."

We stand there for a couple of minutes. The room smells of bleach, a faint hint of blood and caramel on top.

We used plenty of caramel tonight on Mr. and Mrs. Derek. The husband has been dropping by, buying cupcakes for his wife.

Normally, I wouldn't care.

Normally, I wouldn't dream of taking out two people at once.

Except she owns a bakery down the street from mine. She's been trying to copy my recipes and designs. All she had to show for were knock-off versions of my work .

Still.

They both deserved to die.

Good thing I had Tyler here to help me. Although, I could've finished off both of them. Totally could've.

But I can't deny how nice it was to have him here, playing with me. Giving them a huge dose of my special caramel recipe. Their mouths got a taste of the scorching, sticky liquid. Their nostrils. Ears. They'll never forget the sweetness of it. Not even in hell.

Tyler slides his hands up to my throat, coasting over my tattoo and landing on my cheeks. He doesn't talk. Doesn't need to.

Being in love doesn't mean my senses have dulled. Something's different about him.

Something beneath the surface only I can see.

"What is it, Ty?"

"I have a surprise for you." Tyler lowers one hand to my waist. Runs a hot trail of kisses from my neck to my jaw. To my ear. "It's waiting for you at home. Ready for tomorrow."

Tomorrow. The night we kill Johnathan. The night we planned here in my bakery. It's finally happening.

I almost forgot, with how much I'm desperate for the man I have here. Right fucking here.

With me.

With. Me.

I'll probably keep saying that to myself for a while. Until it sinks in. Until I fucking feel like it.

I don't have to chase my man anymore. Don't have to force him out of his heroic, troubled thoughts .

Nope. He's here.

Tyler's here.

Before I'm consumed by my possessive thoughts, I clear my throat. Tilt my chin up. "I felt him this afternoon. In the shop. You had an online conference. I saw that in your schedule, and—"

"I'll never get enough of you stalking me," Tyler growls.

"I'll never stop stalking you, so that's good." I clutch his hoodie. "Listen, Ty. I'm serious. You were home and someone had been watching me. Do you think he could be outside? That tonight's the night he tries to kill us?"

"No." One word. A decisive shake of his head. "I double-checked earlier this evening. Went over every new comment on FyndUsHere. A conceited fucker like him would've announced himself."

"Maybe he'll make an exception?" My lips pinch, and I lower my voice in case he's outside. "Since we're special and all?"

I already know the answer. I know, because I'm the exact same. No one has been or ever will be murdered in my back-back room between November 1 st and September 30 th . Doesn't matter how much I loathe them.

If I break my own rules, what kind of murderer will I be?

A horrible one, and that's a fact.

"He won't."

"Rude." I sigh dramatically. Tyler laughs at my theatrics every single time. "I mean, I took a target off my list for him. "

Tyler's eyes brighten when he does what I need him to. Laugh again. His breath warms my skin. The throaty sound sends shivers up my spine.

"My guess is, he's holding off until tomorrow. Everyone will be out trick or treating. Or going to parties. The date doesn't mean shit to him like it does to us. What he needs is anonymity." Ty lowers his voice another octave, whispering in my ear. "He likes crowded places. That's his pattern. He won't deviate from it. You're safe with me."

"What's the surprise, then?" Tyler won't allow me to draw back. To look at him. His hand is an iron branding my skin. "Tyler, you're being an asshole."

Another dark chuckle. I'm getting addicted to those. Addicted, as in, I would die without another hit every day for the rest of my macabre existence.

"I'll give you a hint."

He raises his head eventually, gazing down at me. His eyes are heated. Both his hands take mine, placing them around his neck. His slide lower to my waist, and he's leading me as if we were in a school dance.

Except those were lame. I went a couple of times when Tyler insisted I owed it to myself. To have this normal life experience.

What a load of bullshit.

I never needed other people's version of normal. I needed this .

We stand in the spot where we killed two people not so long ago. They're gone now. There's only Tyler and me and we're swaying in each other's arms in the silence of the room .

"It starts with an M." Tyler's hoarse voice draws me to him.

I blink and smile. "Machete?"

"Adorable." His cock thickens against my stomach. His words are nothing but a breath. "Ends with a K. It's a kink."

"Like tattooing me?"

His eyes coast down my body. To the space above my heart.

"Like tattooing you. Or having a tattoo of you on my back."

Instinctively, my fingers graze the area just below Tyler's nape. Where my angel of death's hood starts.

"This one is new for us." He groans when I slip my fingers beneath his hoodie and stroke his skin. "I dreamed about you last night. About us. I want to fuck you after we kill him. Fuck you while you and I are both wearing a—"

"A mask."

"That's right." His fingers bite my flesh. Digging painfully and deliciously to my hips. "After we're done with Johnathan, I'll bend you over. Fuck you hard. Make you cry so pretty for me inside your mask. That's how it's going to go down tomorrow."

"Please." My desire is thick in the air between us, dizzying and perfect. "Please."

"You'll have it," he whispers before whisking me home. "I promised you everything, and I'll never lie to you. Ever."