“Home sweet home, chére,” Wild says, just as the back of a decent-sized house comes into view. Off to the left is a barn or workshop, and way off to the right of the house near some trees is a wrought-iron gate and headstones. He points over to the headstones. “We’ll put your brother dere. Dat way, you can visit him as much as you like once we is sure you won’t run away.”

  “What makes you think I won’t try to run?” I ask.

  Wild chuckles, his grip on me tightening slightly. “Oh, I know you’ll try, chére. Trust me when I say dis, it won’t end well for you if you do.” His words send a shiver down my spine, reminding me of the danger I’m in.

  As we approach the house, I take in the surroundings, searching for any opportunity. The house itself looks old and worn, with peeling paint and broken windows. This place has seen better days. The barn or workshop to the left seems to be in a similar state of disrepair.

  “I may only be eighteen, but I’m not as naïve as you think,” I retort, my voice laced with defiance. “I’ll find a way out of here, and when I do, you won’t be able to stop me.”

  Wild’s smile falters for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. But just as quickly, it’s replaced with a cold, calculating expression.

  “We’ll see about dat,” he says, his voice dripping with a dangerous edge. “But for now, let’s focus on settlin' in. You not going anywhere.”

  As we enter the house, my mind races with thoughts of escape. I know it won’t be easy, but I refuse to give up. I will free myself from this nightmare. And I will do whatever it takes to survive and make them pay for what they've done.

  Chapter 8

  Wilder

  This girl is gonna run, I can feel it. Her eyes scan the inside of the house just looking for an exit. She ain’t gonna find one though. “If I set you down, you gon be a good girl an do as you told?” Silence. I sigh. “I didn’t tink so.”

  I head to the back stairs leading to the second floor. She needs a good shower and something clean to wear until Ollie gets back with whatever clothes she brought with her. My boots thud against the old wooden steps, echoing through the quiet house. Once we hit the second-floor landing, I take a left and push open my bedroom door.

  “Is this where I’ll sleep?” Her eyes darted to my bed, then around the rest of the room, then back to my face. “With you?”

  I consider her question. We didn’t think about it. Ollie and I sleep in different rooms, so would she rotate rooms or have her own?

  “I ain’t sure ’bout dat yet. You can shower 'ere, and den I’ll get you some’in to eat. Den you can sleep 'ere for tonight.” I point to my king-size bed. “It’s comfortable, and I jus changed the sheets yesterday.” Crossing the room, I take her into the washroom. The clawfoot tub sits against the back wall. I close the door behind us and sit her down on the toilet seat. I reach into the cabinet and pull out two fluffy towels and a washcloth.

  I turn the knob for the shower, and the water spurts out ice cold. “Give it a minute an it’ll get hot. Despite what da house looks like, everyting works real good.”

  I hand the towels and washcloth to the girl. “Go on an get undressed.” She hesitates. “I’ll be down in da kitchen while you shower. Dere ain’t a way to get out other dan da door. And if you try an run, I’ll catch you and tan your hide so bad you won’t be able to sit for a week.” She reluctantly nods and starts undressing.

  I exit the washroom and make my way to the kitchen, leaving her to shower. Opening the fridge, I search for something to prepare for her. Finding some leftovers, I heat them in a pot and set the small breakfast table. I want to make her feel comfortable and welcome, despite the circumstances.

  I head into the downstair washroom, pulling my pants down I grab a washcloth and a bar of soap, lathering it up. I give myself a little whore’s bath, cleaning away the dry cum. I don’t wanna fuck her with her stepmama still on me. After I’m done, I chuck the towel in the bin, and make my way back upstairs.

  After a few minutes, I hear the shower turning off. I grab a clean set of clothes from Ollie’s room and head to my bedroom. The girl steps out of the washroom, her wet hair clingin’ to her shoulders. I hand her the clothes and point to the bed.

  “Put on dese clothes and make yourself comfortable,” I say, gesturing towards the clothes. “I’ll leave you ta get dressed, and den we can eat.”

  She nods silently and changes. I let her have privacy, then go to the kitchen to check on the food. As I wait, I can’t help but wonder how all this is gonna go. Ollie and I have always been real good at sharing, but we never shared a woman. Thoughts of her changin’ in my room ignite a myriad of illicit fantasies.

  Is she a virgin? What does she sound like when she cums? How inexperienced is she?

  Soon, the girl joins me in the kitchen, now dressed in clean clothes. She seems calmer, but doubt remains in her eyes. I motion to the chair, serving her the warm bowl of gator stew, and take a seat across from her.

  As we begin to eat, the silence between us is heavy. I can tell she’s still wary of her surroundings, unsure of what’s comin’. I remove my mask and try to break the tension by making small talk.

  “So, your name Lowe?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

  For a moment, she debates answering or not her eyes fixated on my face. Ollie and I aren’t ugly by any means, so I wonder what she is thinking now that she sees me. Finally, she speaks softly, “It’s Marlowe.”

  “Well, Marlowe,” I reply, offering her a small smile. “I know dis might be a lot. And while you got ta see da bad side of us right away, jus know we wouldn’t ever hurt ya like dat.”

  She looks up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. I can see that she’s still tryin’ to process everyting that has happened.

  “I’m not sure I believe you,” she whispers.

  I nod understandingly, knowin’ that her trust will take time to earn. “I can see why you’d be hesitant ta trust us, what wid how we did your family an all. Ollie done promised your brother we’d take care of you. And like I said, we need you.”

  We continue our meal in silence, the atmosphere slowly becoming more comfortable. While Marlowe eats, I can’t help but notice how delicate she seems. Not like these deep backwood women. She grown up in a comfortable home, probably went to a fancy school, and had all the good things life offers.

  Ollie and I struggled to make sure we got an education. We worked as much as possible to ensure our parents could pay the bills. Life was hard with parents who couldn’t hold jobs because of their reputations. Mere, being the daughter of a preacher, having babies out of wedlock, then marrying our Pere, a drunkard who came from a backwood family who was known for killing people. Made life hard for us. After they died, we were alone, and we done been alone for a very long time. This girl being here now is just what we need.

  I send Marlowe back upstairs, and once I tidy everything up in the kitchen, I make my way back to my bedroom. Marlowe is sittin on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on the floor. I sit down next to her, givin’ her some space.

  “You wanna know anythin’ about us?” I ask gently.

  She looks up at me, biting her lip before speaking. “Um, well…I guess I just wanna know why. Why’d you pick me? Did you have to kill Ethan and my dad?”

  I reach out and place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She quickly shrugs it away. I’m a patient man despite being a cold-blooded killer. I won’t force my touch on her just yet. “Like I said, we need you. Ollie seen you out wid your brother hiking an he knew right away dat you was the one.” I take a breath and continue. “As for your family. It’s unfortunate and wheder you believe it, I’m sorry it had ta go that way.”

  Tears fall down her cheeks, and she lets out a few staggered breaths.

  To console her, I offer her a tissue, but she declines the gesture by waving it away, opting to use her shirt to wipe away her tears instead. “I just... I can’t believe they’re gone,” she says, her voice trembling. “And now I’m here, with you, and I don’t know what to do or how to feel.”

  I sit there in silence, allowin’ her to process her emotions. The weight of her loss hangs heavy in the air. “I understand dis is overwhelmin’ for ya,” I breathe. “It's a matter of survival, and not resorting to even more horrible t'ings.”

  Marlowe looks up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and anger. “Oh, so instead of you going out and being a serial rapist, you just rape one girl forever?” she scoffs. “Makes perfect sense.” She throws her arms up in defeat. She cries hysterically. “You are taking away every opportunity I had and slaughtered my family. And now you’re making me your… sex slave!”

  I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain our actions. Shit, I don’t even know how to explain what we done. This girl is all I need. I need her so badly it’s hard to keep myself from not touching her. “I know it’s hard ta see it now, but we didn’ have a choice.” She snorts, but I keep going. “Da world hasn’t been kind to our family. People like us have enemies, and townsfolk jus like to talk shit. Anytime we’d try to court a girl or woman, someone’d come and ruin it. How’s a man supposed to have a family if people constantly cockblockin’ him?”

  Marlowe’s expression softens slightly as if she’s starting to understand. “But why me?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper. “Why did Ollie think I was the one?”

  I take a moment to gather my thoughts before answering. “My brother is da brains outta da two of us. You’d t’ink he was the older twin,” I chuckle. “But I came six whole minutes before ‘im. I suppose when he saw you, he saw some'in special.”

  She looks at me skeptically, her eyes searching for any hint of deception. “And what if I don’t want to be a part of this? What if I just want my old life back?”

  I sigh, knowing that my words might not be enough to convince her. “Marlowe, I get dat it’s a lot. We’re jus tryin’ ta survive in a world that’s stacked against us. Dis is your life now. So why don’t you try ta get some sleep and da t’ree of us can talk in da mornin’?”

  Chapter 9

  Ollie

  The things a man will do for a girl are astounding. I’m getting rid of this girl’s parents in a way law enforcement won’t discover. Granted, this girl didn’t ask for us to murder her family or get rid of the evidence, still. Using an axe, I dismembered the parents’ bodies retrieved from the explorer, preparing them as food for the gators. The boy I have wrapped up real good in his sleeping bag. When I return, I’ll find a nice spot for him in the cemetery.

  I t'ink she’s gon appreciate having him near 'er at da house.

  It’s da least I can do.

  The sweat and stink that is coming off of me in this heat is ridiculous. I can’t wait to get home and take a nice cold shower. Lord knows, Imma need it, what with having such a pretty little thing in the house now. It’s gonna be hard to keep my dick in my pants. The thoughts I’ve had of that girl since I saw her. She got a body built for sinnin’. Crafted by da devil himself to lure a man into da darkest pits of temptation, ta perform da most carnal of sins upon her.

  I wonder if Wild’s already breakin’ her in?

  The quicker I get this done, I can have my turn with her. I summon all my willpower to push through and continue. The chunks of the girl’s father are thrown into the swamp, and within moments, hungry gators surface to devour the gruesome offering. I get to work on the stepmama’s body. Piece by piece, I hack at the limbs. Blood spatter covers my shirt and face, now that I’ve removed my mask.

  I continue with the grim task at hand, my body heavy with the weight of what I’m doing. The girl, unaware of the horrors unfolding, doesn’t deserve this. She didn’t ask for any of it.

  As I finish dismembering the stepmother’s body, the stench of blood and decay fills the air. I take a moment to collect myself, wiping the blood from my face and removing my blood-soaked shirt. The heat is unbearable, and the sweat drips down my face, mingling with the grimy residue on my skin.

  I gather the remains of the girl’s stepmama and dispose of her in the swamp, where hungry gators eagerly await their macabre feast. The scene is horrifying, but it is done. My mind races with the need to get back home. I need to bury the boy’s body so I can acquaint myself with the girl. Lowe. Such a strange name for a girl.

  These city folk namin' their children strange names. Our babies gon have normal names.

  As I head home, the weight of my actions settles upon me. How am I gonna make this girl not hate me for killing her brother and father? She might always hate me. I’m not above taking her by force, but I’d rather she be willing. It will take time, I assume. Force will initially be necessary. But once she sees we aren’t all that bad, she’ll come around.

  I gotta admit, this SUV is mighty nice. The back road to the house cuts straight through the swamp and a good portion of the forest. It’s driving through the terrain with no issues at all. Too bad we can’t keep it. This would be nice driving to the slaughterhouse for work. The busted up old pick-up our parents left to us don’t have no Air Con and the radio damn near doesn’t work half the time. The air in this thing blowing as cold as the Arctic.

  The house and workshop come into view and instead of stopping there, I drive to the cemetery out by the trees. I don’t need that poor girl catching a glimpse of her brother’s body before I bury him. A little bit of my heart remains. Backing up slowly, I open the SUV’s hatch with a quick hit of the button overhead. On a mission to get this done quick style, I cut the engine and get out of the car. I shove the keys in my pocket and make my way to the back.

  The boy’s dead weight now, his body stiff, making him hard to maneuver. I carry him over to an empty spot near one of the biggest trees. This spot gets some good sunlight and we can even put a bench for our girl to sit on if she wants to visit with him. I carefully lay his body down, then head towards the shed with shovels and equipment.

  As I approach the shed, the weight of the situation settles heavily on my shoulders. I grab the shovels, feeling the cold metal in my hands. The sound of cicadas in the early morning is a welcome background noise to the thoughts swarming my head.

  Returning to the makeshift gravesite, I take a deep breath to steady myself. The ground feels soft beneath my boots, a stark contrast to the weight of the shovel in my hands. I dig, each shovel full of earth a physical manifestation of the pain I’ve carried for this family. The people I’ve killed for this family.

  Time seems to blur as I work, sweat dripping down my forehead. The rhythmic sound of the shovel hitting the dirt becomes a mantra, pushing me forward. I dig deep, wanting to ensure a proper resting place for this girl’s brother.

  Finally, the hole is deep enough. I take a moment to catch my breath, wiping the sweat from my brow. Looking down at this young boy’s body my feelings are a conflicted mess as I look at him. He done us no wrong; he was just in the way of us taking his sister.

  Carefully, I lift his body and lower him into the grave. It’s a delicate dance, trying to find the right position, ensuring he rests in peace. As I cover him with the earth, I can’t help but feel a sense of guilt. It’s not the ending he deserved, but it’s the only one he got.

  I stand there for a moment, staring at the freshly filled grave. It’s done.

  “Sorry bout dis, kid. I’ll keep my promise to ya about your sis. You can count on dat.” I say. “I’m not much for religion, but I’m sure you in a better place dan dis shit-ass town.” I’ll have Wilder make him a headstone so that he has a proper site here. He's better at stone work than I am.

  Back in the SUV, I start the engine and I drive away, leaving behind the cemetery and the memories it holds. I can’t help but feel a sense of longing. Longing for a future where my brother and I have our own family, where this house and property have some life back in it. Even if it means we have to force it to make it so, we will.

  I park the SUV in the workshop and lock it, taking the keys with me. Gonna have to hide these keys so the girl don’t think she can try to run away. As I make my way up to the back of the house, I envision her lying on her back on my bedspread and waiting for me to feast on her. A smirk creeps across my face as I turn the knob to the door, walking inside to the future.

  Chapter 10

  Marlowe

  You would think that I would try to escape this bedroom after Wilder left to get some sleep. But no. Part of my brain was telling me to try every window, to get up and see if he barricaded the door. Nope. What do I do? I crawl under the comforter of the big, handsome murderer’s bed. I tuck my knees to my chest and cry, my heart pounding in my chest. “Ethan,” I wail as if he can hear me from whatever plane of existence he is now on. “I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

  I let the sound of my crying lull me to sleep, hoping that it had all just been a nightmare and that when I wake up, everything would be back to the way it was.

  A chill hits my skin and I bolt upright. While I slept, I kicked the comforter off of me, leaving my entire lower half exposed. The room’s door is wide open, and a box fan near the bed circulates with muggy air. My eyes stay glued to the open door as I shift to sit on the edge of the bed, letting my feet touch the hardwood floor. Silently, I rise and creep towards the door, listening intently for their presence.

  Muffled voices from downstairs alert me to where they are. I glance down the hallway and notice another set of stairs. I tremble as I creep down the hall to the other set of stairs, praying I don’t make a sound. My breaths come out in short bursts as I step onto the first step. I look back over my shoulder and nothing. Downstairs, there is a sitting room, the foyer, and the front door in sight.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9