Dead of Summer

by A.J. Merlin

“Oh, my god.” The words come out as a whisper as all the warmth drains out of me, into the ground below. “Not quite,” Kayde responds, still with that half-apologetic smile. “And if you’re really good for me, sweetheart, I won’t make you meet him tonight.”

“You were so good for me, sweetheart,” my ax murderer whispers against my hair, just over the sound of the water. “Just relax for me, baby. I’ve got you.”

“Do something for me. Distract me from how much I want to hurt Darcy for what she said to you.” He lets go of my throat and tilts my chin up. “Did she make you cry?” he murmurs, gaze searching my face.