Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LEAF
The house is not as bad as I assumed it would be when we return from Thorne’s vacation, but it will need work.
There are gaping holes in all the floors, the door to the attic is gone, and the wall where the cellar door was has been removed entirely.
They at least had the courtesy to patch it up with plywood, but the whole place smells like mold and dirt.
The grounds are much the same. There are freshly dug holes all over, and the concrete stamp has been broken into huge chunks, sitting in a pile. I can’t help but think all those empty spaces are graves, but I shove that thought out of my head as soon as it pops up.
That’s not how I want to look at this place. My aunt is gone, and so are the bodies, and this land has promise. Not just to be mine, but to be ours. Mine and Thorne’s.
Thankfully, Thorne thought to rent a dumpster and hired a few men to get rid of all the shit that my aunt had stored around the place. He made sure they went through everything so nothing of mine was lost.
Now, I only have a few of Rain’s childhood things, if he even wants them. Everything else can go. My aunt was a serial killer. I want nothing of hers to stay.
When I get done doing another sweep of the dining room, Thorne is on the deck, putting together two chairs he bought for us to use. They’re sturdy and can hold a combined weight of the two of us together, just in case I want to crawl into his lap and frot.
“I think the first thing I want to do when I have the money, you know, after fixing the floor and the walls, is paint the outside of the house.”
“What color?” Thorne asks, glancing up at me with a tiny grin. He seems to love all this repair shit, and it’s weirdly hot. His screwdriver hangs between his fingers, and I imagine, just for a moment, that it’s my dick he’s holding onto before quickly tossing it away.
I glance around us, trying to picture it in my head. “Maybe white with black shutters and a blue door.”
His smile widens. “I like it. We can do that.”
We. We can do that.
It’s still such a novel concept after being single for so damn long. I sigh and scrub a hand over my face. “The apple harvest went better than expected, but that’s only going to pay the bills for the next few months.”
“We’ll figure it out. I have some money put aside—”
“No, absolutely not.”
He rolls his eyes and gets back to putting the chair together. I’ve told him no a few times because, well, I don’t want him paying for anything my aunt caused. If he wants to help renovate in the future, that’s fine, but he’s not putting any of his money into Aunt Lynda’s mess. I refuse.
My gaze turns out to the garden, and I see that my zucchini is all gone. Michael has been just as bad as before, if not worse. It’s like he thinks he owns the place. But instead of trying to kill him, I’ve just accepted it. It’s his garden now.
I even tossed those plants that were supposed to end in his demise.
I did suggest we sell them on the black market, but Thorne didn’t look amused. He growled “no” right up against my lips, then bit me on the jaw.
Sometimes it’s so worth it to say shit that annoys him.
As if on cue, I see Michael’s little head poke up from the ground, something in his mouth. Another vegetable? No, there’s nothing left for him to ravage, and whatever it is seems small and flat.
Leaves? Oh god, has he eaten everything to the point he’s starving and chewing foliage? Do I need to plant more food for him?
I crane my neck forward, squinting to get a better look.
“What the fuck does he have in his mouth?” I murmur to myself. “That’s definitely not from the garden.”
My stomach roils and drops, and Thorne must notice the stress emanating from my body because he hops up.
“What is it?”
“If it’s another tooth or hand, I will riot,” I murmur, rushing forward. “I mean it. I will literally set fire to this whole place and watch it burn and sleep in a tent on the ashes.” Thorne follows me as I rush toward him, his feet clipping my heels.
Michael seems undeterred by our rapid approach, which is not a good sign. When he doesn’t run, it means something is about to happen.
He stares at us with his big black eyes, his long teeth holding something green and white.
“Is that…money?” Thorne asks, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a stop.
My mouth drops open as I realize he’s right. It’s cash. “What the fuck?”
Suddenly, Michael turns and scurries away, but I can’t seem to unstick my feet from the ground to follow him. Money? Where the fuck is he getting money? I sure as shit don’t have any.
Michael stops when I do, then waves his little arm and waits for us to follow. This little fucker knows something. This is way too weird not to investigate.
My body unfreezes just as Thorne tugs on my wrist, and we follow, zigzagging around the fence that leads to the orchard, and stop at the base of one of the trees.
He disappears into a small hole, and Thorne and I just stare at it.
“What do we do?” I ask. “What if it’s another body?”
Thorne shakes his head, his face somber but his eyes alight. “I don’t think it’s a body. I’m getting the fucking shovel, and we’re going to dig.”
I’m an expert at shovels and digging holes by now.
My shoulders and arms ache as we delve down deep into the ground, the trees watching us as we work. Thankfully, the sky is overcast, and it’s autumn, so the heat from the sun isn’t burning through my skin.
My shovel eventually hits something, and a clang moves up my arm, radiating through my neck and teeth. “Shit!”
Thorne moves to my side and takes his pick, bending down and scraping at whatever I hit.
I tap him, and he looks over his shoulder at me. “Is it a coffin? Please tell me it’s not a coffin.”
He chuckles. “It’s not a coffin. It’s not big enough. But it is a box.”
“Can you get it out?”
He eyes it for a second, then drops down to his knees and grunts as he begins to pry it from the dirt. It feels like forever goes by, and I’m halfway to suggesting that we call those guys with the backhoe again when he lets out a small cry and heaves backward and out of the hole.
In his hands is a large wooden chest of some sort. There’s a hole in the top just big enough for a groundhog to fit inside.
“Oh, thank god.” It really isn’t a coffin. Or if it is, it wouldn’t be for a human. A groundhog, maybe, I think with the smallest smirk, though I really don’t have any bloodlust regarding Michael anymore.
“How did the guys miss this?” he murmurs as he turns it from side to side. It’s shut tight with a lock, but the thing is old and rusted, so it shouldn’t take much force to break.
And my boyfriend is very, very strong.
“I’m sure Michael led them astray,” I murmur as he examines the seal.
Thorne glances at me with a laugh, then sets the chest down, and something inside makes noise.
“It’s rattling,” I tell him since it’s obvious he can’t hear the sound.
We stare at it, and then Thorne shrugs and takes his pick, slamming it down twice on the lock. It gives way and falls to the ground, and I nudge it with my foot.
I start to feel panicked all over again. My aunt was someone I never knew. Someone no one knew. This could be anything. “I don’t want to look while you open it, okay? If there’s a head in there, I may die.”
He palms my cheek and steps in my line of vision, blocking my view of the chest. I don’t know if he’s worried or indulging me.
He drags two fingers softly down my eyelids.
“Close your eyes, baby,” he says softly.
When I obey, he rewards me with a long, indulgent kiss that makes me forget everything, just for a second.
When he pulls away, I take a deep breath and listen as he steps back toward the box and leaves me floating in the void.
A second later, I can hear the screech of the hinges whining as he pulls it open, and my breath stutters in my chest.
Then I catch a whiff of old paper and something else. Something…metallic? It’s definitely not a body, though I don’t know what old bones are supposed to smell like. But Thorne isn’t freaking out, so…
“Holy shit, Leaf. Open your eyes.” His voice is trembling but with excitement, not fear.
I let them flutter open, and I stand there agape. In front of me is money. Loads of it. More cash than I found under the mattress. And if I’m not mistaken, those are gold bars sitting next to the bills.
It takes me a full forty-five seconds to get my tongue unstuck from the roof of my mouth. “Holy shit. Is that…?”
“Yeah,” Thorne says, his voice breathy. “Money. And I’m not an expert, but I’m pretty sure this is gold.”
I can feel my heart beating in my throat. “How much is in there?”
Thorne gives a soft laugh. “I have no idea. I’d have to count. But holy fuck.”
“Where did she get literal gold bars?” I ask, bending down and picking one up. God, is this…is this blood money? Money she stole from victims? I look up at Thorne, feeling dread creeping through my gut. “Do I have to turn this in? Like evidence?”
His brows dip. “As far as I know, there aren’t any cold cases of gold bars or cash being stolen.”
“Yeah, but…what if she took this from the people she, you know…” My voice drops. “Killed?”
His face softens, and he takes my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm, then to the inside of my wrist. “Those victims are all young, and none of them came from well-off families. I don’t think these two things are related. Hell, this might not even be something she buried. Someone else might have.”
I hesitate, looking down again. The cash and the gold bars have serial numbers, so they’re probably traceable. But Thorne isn’t wrong. It’s not like there’s some local legend of some gold-rush booty gone missing.
“You think I should keep it?”
He meets my gaze and holds it steadily. “Leaf, I say this as a man still technically employed by the FBI. I think you should keep it. Maybe offer some to Rain. After everything you’ve been through? This is a game changer for you.”
My gaze flickers down to his mouth, and it twitches into a half smile. “So I guess I don’t need to sell my dick pics on the dark web.”
“No, you don’t.” He tugs me into him, hard and possessive. “And I wouldn’t have let you do that anyway.”
I lunge toward him, the two of us falling into the dirt, the chest rattling next to us.
“I’m rich.” I grin down at him as I pin him on his back and brace myself over his chest. “I have gold bars! I’m going to melt them down and use them to make a toilet!”
Thorne chuckles and rolls me onto my back. His body hovers over mine. “You’ll do no such thing. We’ll make a reasonable plan. Liquidate the gold, put the money into sensible stocks, and use the rest of it to fix this place up and make it a home. For us.”
For us. My entire body feels like it’s glowing from the inside out.
“Maybe a tiny toilet?” I ask, and he leans down and kisses me.
“Maybe we can make a small gold groundhog statue for Michael.”
I think on that. It’s not a bad idea, actually. “Why not? I mean, he did solve a murder and fix all my money problems. He must be the corrupted offspring of an angel and a demon or something.”
Thorne kisses my nose. “I guess Michael isn’t so bad after all.”
I sigh and run my fingers through Thorne’s hair. “He also brought me you, so I really can’t complain.”
“That’s right. No more complaining,” Thorne replies, and our heads turn back to the chest of money, and something flits through me. “Only kisses. And love.”
“And orgasms,” I tell him.
He laughs and yanks me tightly against his body, where I can feel his erection pressing into my thigh.
Our lips meet again, and my eyes close. There’s a feeling in my chest I can’t entirely describe in words, but I know it.
It’s starting to replace the empty loneliness of the past decade.
It’s a feeling of being full and satisfied and…
Content, I realize. And happy.
And for the first time since all this started, I feel a little bit sane.