Chapter 25
“Have you named it?” Jed’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I cast my gaze sideways so I can see my beautiful, bloody boyfriend.
He hasn’t bothered to really clean up, past taking a rag to his face and hands.
So I can still see the dark blood staining most of the exposed areas of his pale, perfect skin.
He’s gorgeous even when he murders the shit out of people. What a terrifying problem for me.
“No,” I reply after a moment, stroking along the small, gray cat’s head and back.
It doesn’t try to pull away from me and doesn’t squirm around in my lap.
If anything, he seems content. Like he was born to be here and couldn’t imagine life anywhere else.
Curious, I roll him over, garnering a protest from the little cat, and lift one of his back legs to peer between them.
“Oh, someone needs to get neutered,” I announce, letting the cat flip back over onto his paws.
He shakes himself, fur fluffed, and leans off of my lap to sniff at Jed’s arm that’s pressed along the console.
Jed glances over, a small smile on his lips. “My vote is for Alcatraz,” he says after a moment of looking between the cat and the road. Slowly, he lifts his free hand, stroking it along the cat’s head.
“That’s morbid. Isn’t that like, tempting fate or something?” I would think he wouldn’t want to bring any talk of that kind of prison into his house, if at all possible.
“Chainsaw?”
“You want to name a cat chainsaw?” My eyes roll before I can stop them, and I shake my head at my chainsaw-wielding murderer. “That’s awful. You’re awful at this. Might as well name him Wren, if we’re going for awful names.”
When Jed doesn’t reply, I sneak another look at him, and I’m surprised to see him looking like he’s considering it. “You’re joking,” I deadpan, letting the cat back into the circle of my arms when he walks across my lap once more. “You really want—”
“He is such a cute little Wren.” Jed’s voice is a coo as he reaches across my lap to scratch the cat’s ears.
The cat purrs louder, though he hasn’t really stopped since I’d picked him up by the road while Jed and his friends were, well, murdering a guy.
“Look at him. Doesn’t he look like a little bird to you?
But…” His face turns serious, and he casts a look in my direction.
“Naming rules are two yeses, one no. If you don’t like it, we’ll pick something else. ”
That causes a grin to break out over my lips. “That’s the rule for naming a child,” I point out.
“Yeah, and?” God, he’s completely serious. Not only that, but it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.
“And I like Wren.” My fingers tickle the cat’s chin and he narrows his green eyes at me, bottlebrush tail flicking back and forth in delight. “How’s human Wren going to feel about cat Wren, do you think?”
“Oh, he’ll absolutely be offended. Especially if we call him old Wren and the cat new Wren,” Jed assures me, with a smile that tells me to him, that’s the best part.
The rest of the drive continues in mostly companionable silence, though I do confer with Jed to make a list of things new Wren needs in the immediate future. Cat food is, of course, pretty high up on the list. Along with a cat tree spanning the height of the universe and food bowls.
“We could get a custom cat tree,” he offers, pulling up into the parking lot.
“Be careful not to let him out. As much as new Wren loves us, I think, I’m sure the allure of the wild is stronger than ear scritches.
” I know he’s right, and I bundle up Wren in my jacket, hugging him to my chest as I open the door and push it all the way out with my foot.
Wren never tries to escape, however. If there’s any kind of allure in the still-foggy morning, between the trees that are barely visible in the mist, then Wren doesn’t hear it.
He’s the first cat in creation that I know of who likes being carried.
That, or he’s just exhausted from being outside on his own.
Once inside, I’m surprised to see Jed already in the kitchen, a small, shallow bowl on the island with a pack of deli meat beside it.
“You don’t slice your own?” I ask, causing Jed to eye me as he opens the meat, though I can see the hint of amusement on his face as he chops the sliced it into tiny pieces. “Isn’t that against the rules of the Michelin Star Society?”
“There is no society,” he chuckles. “And our only rules are no Lunchables and no American cheese.”
“Ouch.” It’s such a personal blow, and I pull a hand away from Wren and press it against my sternum in full offense. “That’s just hurtful.”
“It’ll be less hurtful once we break your addiction to plastic cheese and processed meat with too many additives to count,” Jed promises me sweetly. He dumps the meat into the bowl and pushes it to the middle of the island before turning and putting the rest of the meat back in the fridge.
I just stand there, sure he doesn’t want the little street cat on his counter.
But when Jed turns back around, surprise on his face when he sees me still holding Wren, he asks, “Aren’t you going to let him eat?” His sweet, bemused tone is such a stark contrast to the blood staining his clothes and skin that I can’t help but grin.
“On your counter?” I glance down at the island between us, and then back up at Jed with raised brows. “You want to build bad habits?”
“It’s just once,” he argues, reaching out his hands for the cat.
I hand Wren over, knowing for a fact that just once is still going to become a habit.
But hey, they aren’t my counters. And it’s adorable to see him cradle the cat in his arms. The cat leans up to sniff his chin and Jed leans down, letting Wren nuzzle his face against his blood-streaked jaw.
“You’re too precious to be real,” I tell the two of them. “I didn’t know you liked cats this much.” Realistically, there’s a lot I don’t know about him. But unless I suddenly re-grow my conscience, morals, or, well, common sense, I have time to learn everything.
“I love all animals,” Jed murmurs, nuzzling the cat’s little forehead before setting him down on his paws. “My family had dogs and a few barn cats. Taking in the local strays was probably the only good thing they ever did.”
“Well, they also had and raised you,” I point out, as new Wren sniffs the meat before attacking it voraciously.
“I think that’s a pretty good thing.” It sounds cheesy to my ears.
But before I can apologize or laugh it off, Jed sends me a bright, winsome smile and crosses to my side of the island, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“I need to shower,” he murmurs, lips brushing my skin as he speaks. “Do you want anything before I go up?”
“No,” I tell him, reaching out to twine my fingers with his.
“I’m fine. Are you fine?” He treats murder like it’s so easy.
Like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
And maybe for him, it is. Jed shakes his head, murmurs his thanks against my temple, and heads upstairs to the bigger, nicer bathroom with the fancy as hell shower.
But when he’s gone, I feel…deflated. Even with new Wren sucking down the chopped up meat and purring the whole time, I feel like I’m missing something.
Jed, obviously. I’m missing him.
“Please don’t break anything,” I tell the small cat, and give a quick look around the cabin to make sure there’s no window cracked and that the doors are both shut and locked.
There’s no way for him to get out, and it would do him some good, I hope, to explore his new home.
After giving him one last scratch between his ears that the cat mostly ignores in favor of food, I hit the stairs and trail up after Jed, not hesitating until I get to the bathroom door where I can hear the shower running inside.
There’s always the chance he doesn’t want me in there. That he wants to clean up alone and decompress. I know that, but I still knock on the door, hard enough that I hope he can hear me over the shower.
Almost immediately, the door opens, revealing a shirtless Jed with his jeans unbuttoned and hanging low on his hips. My eyes take all of it in, and for a moment I’m breathless at how savagely gorgeous he looks with the blood on his hands, arms, and face.
“Are you okay?” His words make me blink, and look up at him with heat flushing into my cheeks when I realize he’s been watching me stare at him. “Do you need—”
“Can I shower with you?” My words come out quick, uncertain, and a little breathy.
In response, his brows flick up towards his bangs. “You want to shower with me while I scrub off all this blood?”
“Yes,” I confirm. “I absolutely want to hop into that shower with you right now.”
“Blood and all?”
“Blood and all.” His grin widens at my answer, and he pulls me forward, lips slanting against mine.
“You’re perfect. Have I told you that today?” Jed purrs against my lips, backing into the bathroom. He closes the door, and I wonder if it’s more to keep the warmth in than anything else. Or maybe to keep new Wren out, should he head up this way.
“You know, I don’t think you have.” The blood still makes my stomach twist. It still drags up that smarter part of me that says to run away before he kills me.
But it’s getting easier to ignore that part.
Especially when Wren grips my shirt, raising it over my head before he removes my bra and leggings. Before long, we’re both naked, though I’m much less bloody, and he pulls me into the hot water of the shower, his mouth on mine for almost the entire time.
“Do you want me to turn on the lights?” Jed purrs, the rainfall showerhead soaking us both as water falls from the ceiling. I hadn’t even realized he was relying on natural light from the windows instead of the actual bathroom lights, and I shake my head at his question.
“No. I like the dark.” Well, the relative dark anyway. My hands reach out, fingers trailing along his arms as blood streams from him to the shower floor below us. It whirls around the drain, dark red and muted in the dimness of the bathroom, but hypnotizing all the same.
Jed Shaw is a murderer.
An ex-cannibal with tendencies that make me sure that it’ll never be completely in his past.
And he’s mine. He’s made that clear from the very beginning, hasn’t he? Ever since he brought me home drugged in the back of his car. Ever since the first time I could’ve run away, not come back, and gone to the police.
But I hadn’t.
“I want you.” Jed’s growl against my ear is sharp and hoarse. Despite the heat from the shower, I still shiver, especially when I feel his fingers at my slit. “I want you so bad, Saylor. Fuck, I always want you.”
He drops to his knees unexpectedly, his hands on my thighs as he peers up at me. Water runs across his face, catching on his eyelashes as he stares up at me from behind a mask of dark, streaked blood.
There must be something wrong with me that my breath catches in my throat.
My fingers wind through his hair, sticky and stiff with blood, but I don’t mind that, or the way it transfers to my skin.
He licks me, his eyes never leaving mine, and soon his licks become deeper, less teasing, before at last he buries his bloody face against my pussy and shoves his tongue inside of me, like he’ll never be able to get enough.
And fuck, maybe I can’t get enough either.
There’s something that makes it hotter, knowing the blood on his face is rubbing off against my thighs.
And the blood swirling down the drain definitely doesn’t give me pause in the way that it should while he eats me out like I’m the last meal he’ll ever have.
I have a problem.
And Jed is the only solution I care to explore.
He doesn’t wait for me to come this time. He’s too impatient, but so am I. I urge him onward when he stands up to slam me into the wall, guiding my leg up onto the bench to give him better access before the serial killer slams into me, his cock making me see stars.
“I love you,” he pants in my ear. “Or, damn. If this isn’t love, it’s close enough for me.
I don’t care that I only met you a week ago.
You’re mine, princess.” He nips at my ear, my throat, and finally settles on sinking his teeth into my lower lip as he fucks me.
“And I will kill anyone who thinks they can change that. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you,” I pant, turning as my hips move to meet his movements. “I think we’re fucked up as hell, but I hear you.”
His grating, growling laugh reaches my ears, and I gasp at a particularly deep thrust. “Maybe we are,” he agrees. “But I’d rather be fucked up with you, than sane with anyone else.”
“Yeah?” My head spins, and I know I should have a better answer than that. “You really think—” He cuts me off with a harsh kiss, his movements becoming erratic as blood streams down his face from his hair, leaving dark lines of red on his skin and mine.
“Do I think what?”
“Do you think we’re forever?”' I know it’s a dumb question; that it’s too soon to tell. I barely know him, and this is definitely the honeymoon phase. But I can’t help the words as they leave my mouth, nor can I help but watch the rivulets of crimson trail along our skin.
“Yes,” Jed promises, and there’s no hesitation in his words, in his voice, as he pins me in place and sinks into me with a groan. “You and I are forever, Saylor. Till death and after. I promise you, I won’t have it any other way.”
And for all the fear that flutters in my heart, in my chest, and clenches my stomach, any words of reason are lost as I come, body clenching around him.
He’s terrifying, a murderer, and probably a psychopath.
He’s covered in blood, and it drips onto me as he fucks me.
Jed is a monster out of my darkest nightmares.
And he’s all mine.