Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Dalton
My relationship with Rayna could be likened to a hostage situation.
She’s unhinged, volatile, and a little mean at times.
A rational man would have run for the hills long ago, but she’s tethered me to her and refuses to release me.
I do her bidding—much to my displeasure at times—because of my undying love for her. I’m a man obsessed.
That’s why I’m currently picking my way through the southern section of Virginia as I chart a course toward Oak Hollow in Florida.
I glance over at Rayna. She looks out the window as she fingers the tattered ear on that godforsaken squirrel. He’s her comfort object, her most beloved possession. I reach over and slide my hand into hers. Because she’s mine.
A figure stands on the side of the road ahead. The man holds a cardboard sign and sticks his thumb toward our car as we approach. Rayna sits a little straighter in her seat when she spots him.
“Couldn’t we—”
“No, bones. You know we can’t.”
She sits back with a little grumble. “Why not? We’re currently on the move. By the time they find his body, we’ll be in Florida.”
The man slides by, and I don’t even slow the car.
“Fuck, I’m so bored.” Rayna kicks the dash and folds her arms over her chest. “This life was supposed to be exciting. I can’t chase a high only once a year. It’s not enough.”
Keeping the kills to one night a year has proven more difficult than we first anticipated. For both of us. She needs the excitement, the adrenaline rush. I need the release. The control.
I spot our exit ahead, so I merge onto the offramp. “What about the activities list? Maybe we could try some of those things. Besides, it’s almost Halloween.”
We came up with a list of thrilling activities to try throughout our travels. Things that are slightly dangerous or run the risk of getting us caught, but also things that don’t have the sort of jail sentence that murder brings.
“Let’s fuck on the railroad tracks.”
“What?” I nearly merge into a semi as I pull into traffic. “You can’t be serious. That wasn’t even on the list.”
“I’m definitely serious, and I just thought of it. We can make a game out of it. No moving from the tracks until we come.”
“Both of us?”
“Yes, both of us. You didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun, did you?” She punches something into her phone, and seconds later, she’s directing me down side streets.
“So, what . . . we can’t kill other people, so we’re just going to kill ourselves?”
She grins and tells me to take the next left.
Like her puppet, I oblige. I take the turn, and railroad tracks appear further down a stretch of asphalt that looks like it hasn’t seen a pothole repair since its inception.
Trees crowd the tracks on both sides, but the lack of growth around the metal ties suggests that trains pass through here regularly.
I pull the car to a stop, tucking it off the street and in some brush.
“We can finally play with this!” she says as she pulls something from her bag.
I was wondering when Raul would make an appearance.
She stole him from an oddities expo we passed through in Atlanta.
It’s a possum head attached to a butt plug, and I think it’s supposed to be decorative only.
That won’t stop Rayna from cramming it into her ass and forcing me to look at Raul’s glassy death glare while I pound her pussy.
“Must we?” I ask as I unfasten my seatbelt.
“We must.”
She climbs out of the car with Raul in hand, and I follow her because I can’t help myself.
No matter what weird shit she wants to get into, my obsession with her forces me to be her unwilling accomplice.
Well, maybe not so much unwilling as unenthused.
I’m always willing to fuck her senseless, even when her strange accessories are involved.
And they usually are.
I follow her down the tracks to where there’s a slight bend. I already know where this is going. We won’t be able to see the train coming from a distance in either direction, but we’ll damn sure hear it and feel the rumble in the tracks.
“Wait!” Rayna holds up a finger and rushes back to the car. When she joins me again, she holds Raul in one hand and Van Gogh in the other.
I open my mouth to ask why, but then I remember who I’m about to fuck on these train tracks. She sets her janky squirrel on one of the rails so he can watch, I guess. Who fucking cares at this point? My brain has officially become commandeered by the prospect of being inside her.
Within seconds, she’s on me. A soft moan leaves her lips as her mouth melds with mine. I glance down the tracks as she fingers the hem of my shirt and tries to lift it over my head.
I pull away from the kiss. “Maybe we should leave our clothes on. If we need to get away quickly, it’s probably best if we’re mostly dressed.”
She grumbles and gives up, going for my mouth again.
I can’t tear my gaze away from the way the tracks disappear in the distance, though.
It doesn’t even look like a train could come from such a small place, but it’s all an optical illusion.
A train will definitely come from that direction.
Or head in that direction. Either way, we’re directly in its path.
Oh, fuck it.
I reach down and rip off Rayna’s shirt. She isn’t wearing a bra, though she rarely does. I love catching glimpses of her hardened nipples beneath her shirt, especially when my bones gives zero fucks if anyone sees. There is something unbelievably contagious about her reckless nature.
Fear holds me back, but Rayna has a way of setting me free.
“Changed your mind, huh?” she says as her breasts soak up the sunshine. “I can’t be the only one.”
She reaches to remove my shirt, and I let her. If we give the train conductor an eyeful before he drags our innards from here to the next station, so be it. She slips off her shoes, and I drop my hands to her jeans, unbuttoning and snatching them down so she can pull them off.
Her hand drops to my back pocket, where she draws my favorite knife from the depths.
She smirks at me as she flips open the blade, sticks out her tongue, and drags the strip of silver down the quivering muscle.
The skin separates slightly, and dark crimson fills the channel, dripping past her full lower lip when it overflows the wound.
My erection is immediate, and I’m surprised I didn’t come in my pants.
She swipes her bleeding tongue over her lips before sucking it back in and looking up at me.
I grip her head between two very frustrated hands and inhale every ounce of her lusty, metallic perfume as we kiss.
Droplets of blood fall onto my bare chest and warm the skin.
They roll down my abdomen and settle against my navel.
With another sadistic smirk, she pulls away and sits on the rail. She spreads her pretty thighs, purses her lips, leans forward, and spits bloody saliva onto her pussy.
“Oh, bones,” I growl. She knows my favorite flavor.
She drags her hand through the blood staining her damp skin. “Eat me, Dalton.”
I dive to my knees, crawl to her, and send my tongue through her slit.
Never mind the gravel digging into my flesh.
Her back arches as I devour her. Rocks and metal stab my kneecaps, but I don’t care.
I couldn’t be paid to care as I eat her as if this could be the last thing I taste. And it could be.
Her moans are music to my ears as she breathes them out.
She opens her mouth again and lets the bloody line of spit slip down her chest. I only stop eating her to watch the crimson roll over the hardened hill of her nipple and stay there, hovering like some sacred liquid.
And it is sacred. I lift my head to capture her flesh and suck the blood from her skin.
My hands fly to the front of my pants, and I rip open my jeans. I tug her off the rail so her ass drops between the tracks, and I wrap her legs around me. I need her. I need her more than I need my next breath as I lick and bite the sweat from her skin.
“Fuck me,” she pleads, needing me as much as I need her.
I sit on my knees, spit on her pussy, and pull her into me.
She’s so fucking warm and wet as I push inside her.
Her hands fly up to grip the rusty rail behind her as I lean over and drive my hips forward.
Gravel, sticks, and weeds grate against her back, but she doesn’t seem to feel any of it.
She’s too focused on the driving pain and pleasure between her spread thighs.
After a few minutes, I lose myself to the feeling as well. I’m even able to block out the creepy black eyes staring at me from that squirrel’s disheveled face. Rayna’s body becomes my sole focus, and I worship her in the woods.
“You need to make me come now,” she says after a long moan.
I drop my hand between us and rub her swollen clit with my thumb. “Is someone aching to get off already?” I ask through a smirk.
That’s when Van Gogh topples over, and I finally feel the vibrations rumbling through the ground.
“Something like that.” Rayna rolls her hips and sighs, completely unbothered by the fact that we’re about to become a greasy spot on the rails.
“Is that why you brought the fucking squirrel over? Because you knew this was a death sentence and you had to take him with us?”
She smirks, showcasing her beautiful, bloody smile.
“I don’t think I can do this, bones.”
It’s the truth. My cock practically retreats the moment the vibrations register in my knees. She may have zero sense of self-preservation, but personally, I’m kind of enjoying being alive. Mostly.
Sensing my sudden need to flee, Rayna rolls us over and climbs on top of me.
She’s wrong, though. I won’t leave her on these tracks.
She’d just start masturbating, determined to fulfill her own prophecy and arrive before the train.
If I want both of us to make it out of this alive, I’ll need to get her off.
And I need to finish the job, too.