Finishing, he tucked himself back into his pants and fastened them up again, taking one last, long look.
“Hey,” someone called out behind him. “Cemetery’s closed. What are you doing here?”
A caretaker.
He exhaled a sigh, not turning around. “Just paying my respects to my mother.”
The glow of a flashlight behind him shone on the headstone in front of him. “Your mother? But that’s Edward McClanahan’s grave.”
“Oh, is it?” he said, holding back his smile.
He heard the man’s footsteps grow closer. “If you come back in the morning, I can help you find your mother’s plot. What’s her name?”
But he just shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll be quite busy after tonight.” And he turned, meeting the man’s hazel eyes under gray brows. “I’ll leave. Happy Halloween.”
And then he walked away, back the way he came.
“Yeah, you, too,” the caretaker called after him.
Indeed.
The End
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Please turn the page for a glimpse of Kill Switch,
Devil’s Night #3, coming in 2018.
*Please Note: This teaser scene is written in third person, but the novel will be written in first person. This was simply a more efficient way to put you in both characters’ heads for this short glimpse.
Enjoy!
***
She walked into the bedroom, holding out her hands to feel her way. Her fingertips brushed the doorframe and then grazed the chest of drawers right inside. She knew the lay of the land in her own room by now, but she’d learned from experience to have support ready in case she tripped or stumbled.
She’d been a messy kid—leaving her things all over the floor—but losing the use of her eyes twelve years ago certainly hadn’t encouraged her to grow into any neater of a young woman, it seemed.
He liked that about her. The way her world no longer revolved around what she could or couldn’t see. She had to go by what she felt, and he’d trusted her for that.
It had been a mistake.
She walked across her room, her eyes staring ahead like a computer screen locked on one image. Touching the desk chair in front of her, she stopped and raised her arms, pulling the clips out of her hair, one by one. The pile of blonde on top of her head came falling down in waves, and he rubbed his fingers together into fists, desire making his lungs constrict.
She was even more beautiful than when she was sixteen.
Four years ago.
Glowing skin that still looked just as soft, legs he’d sunk his teeth into multiple times as she moaned, a tight tummy peeking out of her little pink tank top, and tits damn near bulging out of their tight confines. He still only saw her when he closed his eyes.
And what was between her legs? It was going to taste just as good as it felt. He’d bet his eyes on it.
She was sweet and soft and his. Even if he’d had to steal it.
Hovering her hands over to the left side of the desk, she found a container and lifted the ceramic lid. He watched her put her pins inside of it, close it again, and turn around.
But she froze, mid-step.