Page 121 of Hide And Seek

“Yeah. I took care of them,” he said, his tone disturbingly casual. “But you did a pretty good job on Chris. He was half-gone by the time I got to him.”

The words hit me in fragments, not quite registering properly.

“Did you…” I swallowed and started again, my voice still shaking. “Were you already going to kill them? Or… was it because they were chasing me?”

A faint, humorless curve touched his mouth. “They were on my list,” he said. “Just not for tonight. So yeah. I did it for you.”

Something twisted hard in my chest at that.

“I don’t let people hurt what’s mine,” Rhys added, softer now. “Ever.”

My stomach dropped at the words, at both the deadly certainty behind them and the way they settled somewhere deep in my core.

He reached for me again, slower this time, like he was giving me the chance to pull away. I still flinched, my shoulders tightening before I could stop them.

A flicker crossed his face. “I really wish you’d stop doing that,” he said. “I told you, I’d never hurt you.”

“How can I believe that when you…” I faltered again, my gaze dragging over the blood covering him. “You’re a killer, Rhys,” I finally managed to get out, voice barely above a whisper.

“I killed foryoutonight, Alissa.” His voice turned rougher, deeper. “And I’d do it again. No regrets.”

That lack of remorse should’ve made it easier to hate him, but it didn’t. Because even as part of me recoiled and screamed that this was wrong, there was something else there too. Something that fluttered in my core when he looked at me like that; like I was the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

He stepped closer, and his fingers brushed my jaw. This time, I didn’t pull away, even though my heart was still racing and every rational thought was telling me to run.

“You’re mine,” he said, voice low. “No one else will ever touch you again.”

His hand gripped my chin then, and he kissed me. Hard.

For a second I froze, shock rippling through me.

Then I kissed him back.

My fingers clutched at his shirt, the fabric wet and sticky beneath my hands as everything crashed together at once. Theterror, the chase, the rope snapping around my ankle, the sound of footsteps crashing through the trees… all of it collapsed into this single, desperate point of contact with the man who’d terrorized Camp Blackpine for days. The man who’d murdered so many people that I’d lost count.

A broken whimper slipped from me as I kissed him harder.

I honestly didn’t know what I was more scared of right now. The fact that a ruthless killer was kissing me, or the fact that I wasn’t forcing myself to kiss him back at all. I could lie to myself and say it was just a survival instinct, but it wasn’t true.

I still wanted Rhys, no matter how fucked up he was. That was the awful truth.

His grip tightened at my jaw, turning the kiss rougher, more demanding, and a small, broken whimper slipped from my mouth as he pushed me back against the tree, caging me in with his body until there wasn’t even an inch of space left between us. His hand braced above my head, the other still tangled in my hair, not hurting but not letting me go either.

I kept kissing him with everything I had, like my life depended on it. And hell, maybe it did. But I was too out of my mind with adrenaline and that dizzy, reckless pull toward him to think straight right now.

We broke apart for a split second, just long enough for us to drag some air in, chests heaving, and then Rhys was back, closing the distance like he couldn’t stand it. Like stopping had somehow been the hardest thing he’d done tonight, even though he’d hacked four people apart in the last twenty minutes.

A breathy moan escaped me, and that was when I felt the shift in him. The last thread of control snapping.

His breathing turned ragged, and the hand in my hair fisted tighter, pulling my head back so he could devour my mouth with even more intensity. A low, almost feral sound rumbled inhis chest as he pressed harder against me, like the taste of my surrender had finally pushed him past the point of restraint.

I knew I should’ve been terrified by that.

And Iwas. But the fear only made my pulse race faster and my body burn hotter against his.

His hand fisted tighter in my hair as he kissed me like he wanted to consume me whole. His blood-soaked shirt pressed against my chest, wet and warm, and the metallic scent of death clung to him. It should’ve repulsed me, but instead it sent a dark, shameful bolt of heat straight between my legs.

He broke the kiss again, only to rip my shirt over my head. My bra followed a second later. Then his hands were shoving my leggings and underwear down my thighs in one brutal motion. The cool night air hit my bare skin as he lifted me, pinning my back against the rough bark of the tree.