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“What about the cart?”
“I’ll handle it.”
By the time I’m dry, Brian has removed his own clothes. “Now do me.”
I spray him clean. The hockey mask protected his face from blood, so it’s just his body we have to worry about. I try not to ogle and wonder if he ogled me when our positions were reversed. He’s in mission mode, so probably not, but I do appreciate the view of water sliding down all those perfectly formed muscles even if they are the muscles of an unrepentant killer.
I toss him my towel to dry off. He changes back into the staff uniform and takes the rolling cart back to the house. I put my masquerade mask and evening gown back on and carry our bags. One of the bags has Brian’s tux and mask, the other contains the clothes from tonight we’ll have to incinerate.
By the time he’s returned the cart and changed clothes, the party is winding down. We blend into the throng of people leaving, and get into Brian’s nondescript black sedan parked in a row of other nondescript black sedans.
No one seems to have yet missed their host. By the time they realize he’s gone, we’ll be back at the house burning the last of the evidence.
Chapter13
Mina
The drive is long and quiet. Brian is tense, and I’m tense because he’s tense. Finally it’s too much for me.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
His grip tightens on the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. “No, I am not fucking okay.”
He sounds broken, and I don’t know what to do with this version of Brian. Nor do I understand it. It can’t be killing those guys. Even with the chainsaw, in a lot of ways it was standard operating procedure for Brian—even if it got a little weird.
My hand strays to rest on his thigh. One of his hands leaves the steering wheel and covers mine.
“Now do you understand why I don’t trust myself to fuck you?” he asks, his tone grave.
“Not really, no.”
“Mina, for fuck’s sake, you were crying, and I just kept fucking you. Those weren’t tears of pleasure. I didn’t even care. I heard it, and I didn’t care, I just wanted to be inside you and mark you as mine. This compulsive need to mark you is going to get you killed. I was punishing you because I was so angry that you’d let Gregor touch you, that you’d been fooled by him. Even though I know it’s irrational, and you didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t trust myself and how possessive I am of you. I don’t trust your safety with me.”
“They were tears of relief,” I say. “I wasn’t upset you were fucking me.”
He pulls his hand away from mine and puts it back on the steering wheel. It seems to take his every ounce of self-control to do this.
“Oh, that’s so much better, Mina. You were relieved I wasn’t about to chainsaw massacre you, so rough fucking was just fine by comparison.”
I remain quiet because there’s nothing I can say to deny his accusation. Ihadbeen afraid he was going to kill me with that chainsaw.
“You weren’t yourself. You were out of control.”
“Yeah. I know. I was there. Once again, this is why I don’t trust myself to fuck you. This is why the only way we can do it is if you chain me up like the rabid dog I am. You have no idea the fucked-up thoughts that were spinning through my mind when I was chasing you. Nothing will ever make tonight okay, so don’t fucking try to sugarcoat it. Don’t forgive me or act like it’s no big deal because it’s a very big fucking deal. You not being traumatized by it, doesn’t change the wrongness of my end of it.”
“So, what? Are you going to break up with me?” I ask. I’m being a smart ass, but I don’t like how it feels like he’s pulling away, like he wants to shelve our entire relationship because he doesn’t trust himself. What about what I want?
“Never,” he growls.
“Well okay then.”
Another couple of miles of dark interstate passes by the windows before I speak again.
“I liked it.”
“Mina, don’t say that.”
“I did. I liked you all wild and primal and dark. I didn’t think you would ever hurt me. I just knew something strange had happened to you. I wasn’t sure YOU were in control, but as long as you are in control of you, I trust you. I trust us.”
