“Not like it’s been good up until this point.” A brief hesitation. “Except for kissing you. That part was good.”
Even in the dark, he closed his eyes. Preston pulled her words in deep. She had no idea how dangerous he was. Probably because she was seeing him as a victim. She’d come to save him, hadn’t she? Rushed to the rescue?
Why was she on my property? Why did she try to help?
Because she was good? A good person? He hadn’t met a whole lot of those in his life.
Good people seemed to know that they should avoid him and the darkness that he carried so heavily. The darkness that was pushing hard against his control. Driving him. Splintering within him.
I will hunt down the monster who did this. I will not stop until he is dead.
He’d fought against the darkness inside of himself for years. Ever since he’d been a fourteen-year-old boy, and he’d felt the first stirrings inside. The urges that told him…
Destroy.
Hunt.
Kill.
He’d fought those urges. He’d invented rules for himself. Routines to follow. He’d been so very careful. Never getting involved too closely with anyone. Never letting anyone know his real secrets. Never giving in to those low whispers that would slide into his mind.
But someone had put him into hell once again.
And this time, Preston feared that he would not be strong enough to keep the darkness chained inside himself.
This time, he feared it would consume him completely.
“Help will come,” Sloane assured him. “People will hunt for me.”
People. Did Sloane have a lover at home, someone waiting for her? A devoted husband? Jealousy stirred. Irrational rage burned.
No, no, she wouldn’t have kissed me. She wouldn’t have kissed me if she had a husband at home. A partner waiting.
But he didn’t know her.
He didn’t…
I want her. I want her because she comforted me in hell.
“How long will it take your people to find us?” Preston growled.
“I…” Sloane stopped.
No answer.
“We’re in a coffin.” Like she’d needed the reminder.
He caught the rasp of her breathing. Then, “It took him…a while to bury us.” A shiver skated over her. “At first, I heard all the thumps of the dirt hitting us. Every single one. I screamed for him to stop, for help, but…”
Silence.
She shivered on top of him. He felt the movement along his body. “He didn’t stop,” Sloane murmured. “After a while, I couldn’t hear the thumps because so much dirt was on top of us. Because we were buried so deeply.”
Fucking hell. “If we don’t get ourselves out, we are dead.”
“How? How do you think we are going to get out on our own?”
“Easy, angel. We dig ourselves out of the grave that he made for us.”
