Page 22 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

Yeah, I could’ve made an extra day out of just having Jed there. To have someone in a perfect place for photography who might be open to all the stupid, creative, and weird ideas I have?

I’d even shoot him there, covered in blood, for the gorgeous contrast between him and the surrounding nature. If that’s not messed up, I definitely don’t know what is.

My fingers itch for my camera, and for a few seconds I consider going back with it in my hands. Except for the fact that I’m not sure I can face him, it feels like a great idea.

I stop at his Jeep, peering into it for any sign of my phone or anything else that might get me out of here. Kiss or not, gorgeous charm or not, I need to get free. I can have these moral dilemmas when I’m at home, in the comfort of my own apartment, when there’s no one around with a chainsaw.

Unless I want him to be around, anyway.

Sighing, I realize that not only is there nothing of use glaring up at me from inside the vehicle, the doors are locked. Naturally. Jed’s thorough and thoughtful. He doesn’t miss any details, and seems to think of everything. In any other situation, it would be inspiring.

Now, it’s just frustrating.

I should walk back into the cabin. I could go collapse on the bed and daydream about escape, or do something productive like think of a plan. But, true to how the last few days have gone and my actions during them, I don’t. Instead, I walk around the cabin, looking at the windows and minimal landscaping that Jed still manages to keep up with.

This is one area I enjoy as well. I like taking care of plants, or designing little gardens. Though for me, it’s indoors instead of outdoors. My gardens are all in pots and hydroponic hangers. Not actually planted in the ground like the flowers and bushes around the outside of his cabin.

I follow the straight wall of the cabin around to the back, and I’m surprised to see another parking area, with another driveway that winds through the trees. A good half mile away, I see a gate as well, crossing over the driveway and attaching to a fence that disappears into the line of trees.

Oh.

I blink once. Then again. That’s why Jed was never concerned about me going down one of the two paths on either side of the front door of the cabin. I’d never once thought to actually walk around the house, instead of just accepting what I could see. It makes a lot of sense that this more cared for gravel road would be the way back to civilization. Though that only helps me partially, since I have no idea how long this particular road is.

Yesterday I’d been sure that anywhere would be better than here. But today? Well, I don’t want to be lost in the wilderness, on a gravel road in the middle of nowhere, when I’ve proven to myself how bad at hiking and running I am in general.

This road is a problem for another day. Probably tomorrow, when I can grab my camera, look a little harder for my phone, and take off at a sustainable fast-walk. I’m too worn out to do anything other than collapse or trudge around for a few more minutes, at most.

Which is how my eyes land on the shed. Or rather, the small dirt path that leads to the shed peeking through a few big trees on the other side of the cabin. I know I shouldn’t. After all, curiosity killed the cat, and no amount of satisfaction would bring me back after getting a chainsaw through the chest.

But….

But I’ve always been a mess. Why stop now?

My feet take me across the gravel, rocks scuffing under my feet, and I give one more quick look to my surroundings to make sure Jed hasn’t miraculously popped up out of thin air. That would be my luck, honestly. That he’d appear like magic and see me doing something that I really shouldn’t be doing.

Like investigating the little shed in the woods.

It never occurs to me, not even once, that I might regret this for other reasons. The only thoughts that go through my head are about sating my curiosity, the ache in my muscles, and making sure Jed isn’t around. After all, what else is there to worry about out here?

The answer hits me square in the face when my hand curls around the handle and pulls. I’d half expected the door to be locked. Especially given that Jed locks or hides away everything of value around here. But instead, the door pops open in my hand, causing me to stagger back from it.

But when my eyes finally adjust to the darkness and my brain accepts what I’m looking at, I wish instantly that I hadn’t come here.

My stomach twists before any thoughts really register in my brain. Unfortunately, by that time I’ve somehow taken three steps forward until I’m inside the shed, standing just past the doorstep as the door swings shut behind me.

I never should’ve done this.

The scent of both old and new blood slams into me, nearly making me stagger back with the weight. My hand is on the inside of the door now, holding onto the handle desperately, like it’s going to stop me from keeling over at any moment.

“Oh fuck,” I whisper, my eyes wide and roving over every inch of the shed. “Jesus fuck.”

This is where he chops up the bodies of the people he and his friends have killed. That’s obvious when my eyes land on the arm just sitting on the far counter built into the small shed. I don’t need to look at anything else. At any of the other pieces stacked or thrown on other surfaces, some of them half wrapped up in tarps like they’re going to be shipped out of here.

And I certainly don’t need to look at the chainsaw to my left.

But I do.

I step inside and turn toward it, my hands shaking as I lift them, fingers stretched out like I’m going to touch it to see if it’s real. And maybe something inside me needs just that. But I don’t try to pick it up. I don’t try to pull the cord to rev it, to make sure Jed was telling the truth in his chainsaw safety lesson. I just rest my hands on the guard, the metal cool under my fingers and slightly sticky feeling from the dried blood.