Page 109 of Savage Keepsakes

Taking a pause from the journal, I rise from my seat and reach for a glass of water. My attention fixates on the blackness beyond the kitchen window.

I realize he must have been here today. Flicking through the book, I look for clues to anything and wonder if he’s out in the old barn I haven’t been out there since the day I saw him in the mask. Every fibre in my being tells me to stay away from that barn.

Sitting back at the table, I read each and every word in the journal. The pages scattered through the book tell me a message. It’s a mess, but I know exactly what it means:

Can someone die from shock if you skin them alive? Lou asks. Come to. So far, it depends on the person…

The place. Eye socket too small for dick, unless micro—poor guys…

Temporal lobe stays the same roughly, but imagine it was like scrambled eggs? We had…

Who knew fucking her with a severed hand would be so hot, except I didn’t enjoy the fact that someone else was touching her. A picnic. Even though I controlled it, the jealousy burned deep in my belly…

Without hesitation, I spring up from my seat and clutch the journal in my hands. I swing my purse over my shoulder, the weight of it against my side, and grab my keys before making my way to the car.

Navigating through the darkness, it feels like an eternity, but eventually I drive into the cleared pathway, grateful for the small victory.

I stumble in the dark through the thick brush, the trees blurring together. A scream threatens to escape my lips.

I recall the run-down cabin, eagerly searching for any signs of proximity. Finally, after pushing through a massive thornbush, my eyes glimpse a glowing light.

Walking over the uneven ground, I keep my gaze downward, relying on the beam of my phone flashlight to illuminate the path until I stumble upon a trail of rocks.

Glancing up, I drop everything on the forest floor, startled by the sight of him leaning against the door.

He’s wearing dark grey jeans and a deep green button-down shirt adorned with vibrant, eccentric flowers.

“Hey, darlin’,” he utters in his gritty voice, sending shivers down my spine.

Twenty-Eight

Billy

Lou runs over the path leading up to the steps.

Our eyes lock, and as she lunges toward me, I respond by grasping her hips and effortlessly lifting her against my chest.

She wraps her arms around my neck, and I move us into the cabin, slamming her back against the wall while I kiss her fiercely. It feels like I’ve waited centuries for her to return to my arms.

My tongue explores hers, a wave of excitement pulsing through my body.

“You’re a fucking dick,” she whispers.

“I know.”

With a forceful kick, I hit the door shut and navigate through the cramped cabin, finally arriving in the spacious living area. It’s not much, but it’s home.

I grasp her chin, our lips meeting, a low moan escaping me as her fingers glide through my hair. Tearing off her shirt, my tongue trails from her mouth to her neck.

It’s been a long time since I have felt the warmth of her skin pressed against mine.

Kneeling before her, I rip down her leggings and press my head against her thighs. I hug her legs. The anxiety and dread of waiting for her overwhelms me, causing a lump to form in my throat.

“I’ve missed you, Lou,” I say.

It’s a fucking understatement. I wished to kidnap her, or to end my life. Living without her is more tortuous than anything I have ever gone through.

“You broke me.” Her words pierce through my cracked heart. I can see the pain in her eyes.

---