Page 130 of The Devil We Crave
My brows knit. “What makes you think I took?—”
“Don’t insult me.”
Okay, there’s no point in fighting him on that one. But it feels strange that he would give a shit about telling my friends where I am.
But he’s not taking me home. We’ve left campus, and Ithinkwe're headed up toward Griswold Hill, not down to HawthorneHollow. The woods are heavy and thick and ominous as thunder and lightning crashes around us.
“Am I?” I blurt.
He finally glances at me as he sets the phone down. “Are you what?”
“Safe,” I mumble, running my palms up and down my thighs and biting back a moan. The leather seat teases against my legs and my ass, sending more ripples through my core.
Achilles doesn’t answer.
“Why did you tell her I’m safe?” I mumble.
Silence.
“W-was it so she won’t worry when I disappear?” I stammer. A nervous shudder skitters through my body. “Are—are you going to kill me?”
Achilles glances at me briefly. “What?”
“Are you the Shoreline Killer?”
Fucking drugs.
Drugsare why I can’t keep my mouth shut right now, and am asking this man,while I’m alone in a car at night with him, if he’s the person responsible for the Jane and John Doe bodies that the local press has dubbed the Shoreline Killer.
A low chuckle rumbles in Achilles’ throat. “Calm down.”
“Are you?!” I scream. “I swear to God, if I don’t check in soon, Arianna?—”
“Arianna thinks you’re safe with me.”
His tone and the way he just looks straight ahead sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end.
“I—”
The car jerks as he pulls off the main road and starts down a dirt one. The woods close in around us.
I glance at him, my face pale. “H-how do you even have her number?”
“Maybe because you used it to text me about needing class notes?”
“Oh, you mean because you’dblocked me?!” I snap. “After youfuuuuucked me?!” I slur. “Like anassssshollle?—”
Lightning splits the sky as the car slams to a stop. I gasp, then bite back a moan at the sensual feeling of my thighs rubbing on the buttery-soft leather seat.
The car turns off. Wordlessly, Achilles gets out and shuts the door, then marches through the rain to my side of the SUV. He yanks the door open, and I bat at him to no avail as he lifts me out of the passenger seat and carries me to?—
Oh God.
A murder shack.
There’s literally no other way to describe the dark, crumbling cabin we’ve just parked in front of.
I kick and thrash, trying to tell my body to stop getting so fucking turned on as Achilles throws me over his shoulder again and marches up the stairs to the sagging porch. He unlocks the door and carries me inside before striding over to a kitchen counter and unceremoniously planting my butt on it.
