The Fire Went Wild: A Slasher Romance (Hunter's Heart Book 2) by Rose Bitterly

Author:Rose Bitterly [Bitterly, Rose]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-12-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHARLOTTE

We cut across the overgrown yards, weaving through stately old pecan trees, the air damp and cold. I can’t see anything, but I keep my fingers pressed lightly against Jaxon’s back, and he moves as if it’s daylight. As if he can see everything.

It’s not long before a light glimmers up ahead, and I suck my breath in, fear surging up through my chest. This can’t be happening. And yet I keep gliding forward, weaving between the trees and shadows until everything opens up into a small, rolling hill of a backyard. The light is a swimming pool, pale and eerie and steaming in the cold.

Jaxon stops and sniffs the air, then whips his hand back and grabs my wrist. I stifle a shout of surprise.

He pulls me up to his side and presses his mask against my ear.

“There are three people on this street.” His voice is so low it sounds like the wind. “A couple four houses down. Inside. Calm. And our target.” He nods toward the swimming pool.

“Okay,” I breathe.

“Do exactly as I say.” When he talks, it seems to come from everywhere. The mask is flat and expressionless. Unmoving. “I won’t let you get hurt.”

“You threatened to kill me like five min⁠—”

“Do what I say, and I won’t let you get hurt.”

It sounds more like a threat than a promise of protection.

“Fine,” I whisper, my breath quickening. The air smells like the scarf, which smells like cinnamon. And, I think, like Jaxon.

“Follow me.” He moves forward, circling the pool. I follow him because I don’t want to die. Because he knows where Edie is. Because part of me still thinks I’m going to walk in that house and the man Jaxon wants to kill will call the police and I’ll be—saved, or something.

Do you want to be saved?

Jaxon glides up to the door with an easy grace, his feet barely making a sound on the wooden patio. The door is sliding glass set into more glass, a black mirror reflecting our two masked forms back at us. We’re shadows. We’re monsters.

I look so good at his side.

I shake the thought out of my head, even though Jaxon runs his hands over the door’s lock like a lover⁠—

Like he ran his hands over me

—And the lock snaps somehow, some piece of metal hitting the patio with a whispered clang. Jaxon eases the door open, and the curtain on the other side billows in, giving me a glimpse of the tile floor.

He gestures for me to follow him. I know I shouldn’t. But I do.

We push through the gauzy curtains and into the living room. It’s surprisingly sparse in terms of furniture, like the owner of this house, Jaxon’s victim, spent all his money on the property and didn’t have anything left for couches and chairs.

Jaxon stands still, head cocked, the antlers dark. I hold my breath, but all I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears.

He turns to me. Points up to the ceiling. Upstairs.

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