Chapter 17 Streeter
STREETER
“No killing Remi, you hear me? I want to keep that eager twink.” Just thinking about what he asked me to do and what other ideas he got from books that he wants to recreate has my dick hard. There’s no way I’ll allow Camden or anyone else to take Remi from me.
He’s mine.
“You sure?” he asks.
I growl, my hands becoming fists at my sides. If my friend were in front of me, I might have socked him in the face for thinking he could touch what was mine.
“Yes, I’m fucking sure. Fucking drop it.” My voice is low and deadly, capable of scaring an ordinary man, but Camden barely acknowledges it.
“Yeah, okay,” he says. “Fine. You should have called me for this outing. It’s been a while for me.”
I chuckle, anger draining from me. “This shit wasn’t planned. Though it is your fault. You fucked my day up early with that fucking Mariah song on my Baddies playlist. I was already out for blood.”
Camden grunts, then inhales deeply. I can imagine him sitting on his couch, toking up.
A blunt would be nice right now. It would help me calm down so I can plan how to get rid of these bodies.
As it stands, I got fuck all besides taking them further into the woods and hoping the animals devour them. That’s not a good enough plan.
The speaker rumbles with his exhale and he says, “Yeah well, next time, fucking call me, dude. We could have made it a party.”
“Whatever. Listen, I swear I’ll get you all the free shit at the general store without getting fired,” I promise when Camden tells me what he wants. “Just get your ass up here and help.”
“I want that fucking gas card for my damn snowmobile. For a fucking year, Street, you hear me?”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “I fucking hear you. If I get fired, I want it back.”
Camden’s laughter rings in my ears as I hang up.
It’s always good to know another psychopath who’s willing to help get rid of bodies.
Who else would I ask? Remi? He’s so small, so delicate.
Sure, he can help move them, but dig graves?
Maybe dismember frozen bodies? I doubt he has the strength for it.
“Remi, come here,” I say over my shoulder as I rummage through his dead boyfriend’s things. What else does he have in here? Clothes, shoes, two fucking boxes of condoms?
I grunt and throw them against the wall. What the fuck did this shithead have planned for my sweet Remi?
Maybe it’s a good thing that fucking song blasted through my damn speakers. I wouldn’t have come up this mountain and saved him from his ruin otherwise. Maybe I’ll add Mariah back to my list. I think she’s earned her place there after all my years of hatred.
“Remi,” I call again, dumping the items from another duffle bag onto the bed. More fucking condoms and lube. These fucking guys were animals. Sick fucking freaks that deserved to be put down. I kinda wish I’d made them suffer more.
After a minute of rummaging through bags and pocketing expensive watches, I realize that the cabin is silent. Too fucking silent.
Where the fuck is Remi?
Stepping over bags, I tear out of the room and look around.
The front door is wide open, soft snow drifting inside.
Why is the door open? Where does Remi think he’s going?
The snow might be melting, but there’s still a few feet on the ground.
He’s in a thin sweater and jeans, no boots to keep his feet warm and no jacket to keep him from fucking shivering.
“God damn it,” I grit out. I hunt for his jacket and pull my own on, then dash out of the cabin.
The headless body of the man I didn’t get to is just visible under the snow melt, and I curse.
I should have taken that fucker to the back with the others and tossed him in the ditch, but it was too much trouble.
Now, with the prospect of someone coming to see if we’re still in the cabin days after we were supposed to leave, I wish I hadn’t been so fucking lazy.
Then again, Remi was on my cock, and nothing was taking me away from that.
His footsteps leave deep fissures in the snow, and I follow them, seeing his haphazard path down the mountain.
How long has he been out here? I wasn’t on the phone long, but this weather takes nothing but a moment to freeze you down to your core.
If he only has that light sweater on, he’s probably frozen to the damn bone.
“Remi! Where are you?” I shout.
He can’t have gone far. The sun is shining, but the temperature is still low. The snow has somewhat melted, but not enough to walk in for long without the legs of his pants getting soaked through.
When I turn down the long stretch of the mountain, I see him huddled under a tree, his hands tucked into his armpits. His eyes grow wide when he sees me, but he makes no move to meet me halfway.
I wade through the snow, keeping my eyes on him to make sure he doesn’t bolt again. When I’m close, I wrap the jacket around his shoulders and tip up his chin. His cheeks are red from the wind, but his lips are turning blue.
“Shit, Remi. Come on, let me get you back in front of the fire.” I wrap my arm around his shoulder and pull him back towards the cabin.
Remi drags his feet for a while, but finally gives up when snow accumulates so high in front of him that he can’t take another step forward. He looks miserable as he lifts his legs over the large patch of snow, then walks in his previous path back up to the cabin.
When we’re back inside, I hurriedly strip him out of his wet clothes and build a fire. The heat is on, but the door was left wide open—it’ll take a while for the fire to warm the entire cabin again.
I plant Remi on the couch and hurry to the room, grabbing the blankets off the bed.
Kneeling in front of him, I wrap one blanket around his shoulders and place the other on his lap.
Remi looks at me with almost dead eyes, his expression blank.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, rubbing his calves through the material on his lap to get some warmth into them.
“I heard you.” Remi’s voice sounds hollow.
“You heard me calling you? I was waiting for you to come back and—”
“No,” he murmurs, a tear tracking down his cheek. “On the phone. I heard you. Your friend… he’s going to… take care of me.” He closes his eyes, but more tears leak from them.
I blow out a long breath, sitting back on my heels. Putting Camden on speaker probably wasn’t the smartest idea. He’s the friend that you make sure never gets put on speakerphone, since I never know what he’s going to say.
“Remi, look at me,” I say, taking one of his hands in mine. He shakes his head. “Come on, Hummingbird. Look at me.” He sighs and opens his eyes, blinking away tears. “I told Camden that wasn’t necessary,” I say gently. “That no one was taking you away from me. Did you miss that part?”
Remi opens and closes his mouth, his eyes wide and that dead look leaving his face. “You told him…”
Sliding closer to him, I grab him by the back of his neck and drag him forward until our foreheads touch. “I told Camden that you belonged to me. I would fucking kill him if he tried, you get that? You’re mine now, Hummingbird. No one fucking touches you but me.”
“So you’re not going to kill me?” He sounds… happy. Full of something close to hope.
I huff a laugh. “No, Remi. I’m not going to kill you. I’m gonna do something worse. I’m gonna make you love me.”