Chapter 22 Skylar #2
“He won’t hurt you.” His hold on my throat is tighter. Strangely, I can breathe easier like this. “No one will.”
“I’m okay,” I wheeze, stroking his forearm, begging him never to let go. “Keep going.”
“As I said, Grandpa isn’t a bad man.”
Knox’s lips pinch when he sees my frown. He understands that my definition of “bad” is truly different from his.
“He was tired of growing livestock. Said they made him itch. People were more convenient anyway, since the townsfolk fed and cleaned after themselves.” Knox brushes a strand of my hair behind my ear.
I don’t think he can stop touching me, just like I can’t stop loving him.
“Since he also owned the only grocery store here, he sold them what he wanted them to eat. Kept their skin soft. Made his job easier still, since he had to handle the tanning when I was too young. When he saw those types of foods were good for him too, he stocked the Colbert family fridges and pantry with them. But he got bored with that. He stopped caring about nutrition as soon as we killed our last neighbor. My entire family did. Not me.”
“Um.” Air whooshes out of my lungs. “What did he feed them?”
“Liver. Eggs. Nuts. Watermelon.”
A pause. A heavy one. My throat tightens.
“Mango purée. The coconut water came later.”
I need her skin perfect before I kill her.
“You…” Every breath I take is jagged. The realization that he might’ve lied about caring about me this whole time hurts. “You weren’t lying to Jett. You were going to skin me. That’s why you fed me these things too.”
“Never you.”
I scoot back anyway. “Liar.”
“Stop it.” My predator pins my back to the blankets, climbing on top of me.
“My fridge is packed with other things, but you couldn’t digest meat. Not even chicken. You were in shock. Dammit, you know you’re still healing. That you can’t just eat anything…” His voice dips. “I’ve been taking care of you so you could live.”
His body wraps tighter around me, his presence calming me in a seriously messed-up way.
The longer he’s there, the darker Knox’s stare grows. His cock thickens in his boxers, poking my belly.
But when he leans in for a kiss, I finally understand just how deep his desire runs.
He’s ravenous. Dominating me.
With him above me, taking up all the space, the sad thoughts are forced out.
I’m burning up everywhere as my tongue swipes over his. Our mouths mate passionately, fervently, like neither of us needs air.
Am I giving in or giving up? I can’t tell.
The only truth is that I want him.
We’re together in this.
“I have to finish what I started, my story.” He pulls back, his heated gaze melting me. “I need you to learn more about Colbert. About me. That’s how we’ll stop being strangers. And before you ask again, no, I won’t skin you.”
His honesty is pure. Real.
I nod. “Okay.”
“The townsfolk.” He says it calmly, like he’s talking about an errand. “One by one, my family, then me and my brother, wiped out the townsfolk. Every last one. Except for one woman who was brought into the family long before I was born. She helped Grandpa and Papa trick the townsfolk back then.”
“Your mom,” I fill in the sentence.
“Yes. Papa said her parents abused her.” Anger radiates from him. Rightfully so. It makes so much more sense now why Knox refuses to kill them. “So he took her. That’s what he wants us to do, just take someone. Neither Jett nor I would do it, each for our own reasons.”
“Of course you wouldn’t.” I curl my hand over the side of his neck. “You were waiting for me.”
“Yes, I was.” His body locks tight, his stare burning hotter than a touch. “After the neighbors were gone and their houses torn down, we were out of leather. So we went hunting at the gas stations before we put up the museum. Waited there at night, catching whoever passed through.”
Strangers who never made it home.
All the missing persons signs. The faces in the aging photos were the ones who stepped into this museum. The ones who just stopped for gas.
My God.
“Problem was, it wasn’t enough. Even though our leather doesn’t sell cheap, and even after we claimed the dead townsfolk’s property and savings, we needed more.
And it wasn’t just about the money either.
My family can’t go on for too long without torturing someone.
We had to make sure people kept driving out here.
” His fingers press into my skin, a warning not to run, no matter what he says next.
“About ten years ago, Jett, who was seventeen at the time, asked our contact in the next town what that internet he’d been blabbering about was. From there…”
Knox continues, explaining more about how they attract tourists. About the bait, the years of practice.
I listen, jarred at first. But then adoration warms me from the inside out when he gets to the part where he tells me how he taught himself everything from computers to social media.
A whole world he’d never experienced before the internet. I imagine him bent over a glowing screen at three a.m., hungry for something more.
He’s resourceful. Unstoppable.
Mine.
“Knox, that’s amazing.” My voice comes out as dreamy as I feel.
“Wasn’t that difficult.”
“Still amazing.”
The blush creeping over his face is…adorable? No. Nothing about Knox is adorable. But it’s hot. So hot.
“I’m glad I did it.” He clears his throat.
“That’s how I knew to wait for you. Why I was out there.
Why I claimed you as mine instead of waiting at home for your skin to drop on my doorstep.
But there were things about you I couldn’t find online.
Like Bronwyn planning to kill you. Or why you want to be a doctor.
Was it really you? Or did your parents push you into it, the same way mine did? ”
He doesn’t wait for my answer, already scowling.
I get it. Then again…
“They encouraged me to choose this path, sure, but I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t wanted it too. About Bronwyn, um, it’s complicated.” My lips twist. “My sister didn’t have it easy.”
“Murderer.” His hand snaps on my chin. Fingers punishing. Hurting. “Say it.”
These hazel eyes, the determination in his glare—I can’t refuse him.
“Murderer,” I sigh, letting the truth spill out. “She wasn’t born that way.”
“That’s what she is.”
A strange fire builds in my chest, sweet and terrifying. His protectiveness burns away the girl I used to be and lets the new one rise from the ashes.
Then, just as quickly, a twitch of discomfort cuts through me. I still don’t know if I should tell him about the urge I have to kill Bronwyn.
On the off chance he hates killers in general—people like Jett—I’ll stay quiet. She won’t last anyway. All I have to do is keep that part of me to myself.
“Okay, okay.” Talking about my family is much safer, so that’s what I do. “Can I continue?”
He offers me a clipped, “Yes.”
“Thank you,” I say without a shred of sarcasm.
“My parents, I idolize them and what they do for a living.” I almost purr when he slides his hand into my hair, massaging the side of my head.
Comforting me. “Bronwyn never cared about becoming a doctor. That’s why our parents never fully accepted her.
And she took out her frustration and anger on me.
The easier target. She bullied me. She hurt me.
And, I guess”—even with Knox’s love enveloping me, tears rise, but I blink them back—“after twenty-three years of tolerating me, she’s had enough. ”
“You won’t be her punching bag ever again. Not hers, not anyone’s. You have me to protect you.” His eyes gleam, pride shining in them. “You have all of me. Always will.”
“You’ll always have me too.”
We both grin like fools. Like people in love.
And just like that, we’re no longer strangers.