CHASING ASH (GXG MAFIA) BURN THE DEVIL SEQUEL

Chapter Fifteen

I stand still for a moment, watching her drag her finger over the furniture in the hallway, the bud of her finger collecting the neglected dust. "Are you going to listen or are you just going to stand there like a lost sheep?" she questions flatly, her words almost escaping like a tune. She is bored, disappointed.

I shift my legs to catch up to her, opening the door to the bedroom while I close my eyes, not wanting to face the cold body on the bed. "I don't know how he got in," I whisper.

"He can't hear you Jane, he's dead" she whispers back, mocking me with a little chuckle once I frown at her. "Take this off" she nudges as she grabs onto the waist of my t-shirt, tugging it up in irritation.

I pull myself away and lift my shirt over my head, leaving me in my bra. "There, happy now?" I state, my words coming across much angrier than it did in my head, but she lets it slide, her eyes falling to my chest instead.

"Very" she murmurs before looking back at me, my breath hitching as she stepped towards me, my stomach spinning at her closeness. No matter how many times we've been together, the swirl in my gut never disappeared, butterflies locked in by her.

"Focus!" I yell, partly at myself as well before pursing my lips together, realizing my tones are very off tonight. Possibly because there's a fucking dead man rotting on my bed. "I need to get him out of here before George gets back" I explain, my voice a little softer as I catch her eyes sharpening as she glares at me.

Her brows creased slightly at the mention of George. "Yeah, where is George? Shouldn't he be home at this hour?" She interrogates.

I breath out harshly, remembering the reason why he left in the first place. "He's gone out, he'll be back in the morning" I explained briskly, hoping to be as nonchalant as I could but I can feel her eyes panning me in doubt. Every time she looks at me, I feel as though she can hear and read my every thought, judging me for having no morals when it comes to my self respect.

"Hm, does he usually leave for the night?" She questions, almost as if she's taunting me, ridiculing this marriage I have.

"No, we had an argument" I simply said before turning my unwilling attention to our problem. "Now can you please help me?" I plead softly as I exhale tiredly. Only I would end up in these situations. I watch her take a mental note with a little smile before pulling out a pair of latex black gloves and putting them on, turning her body to walk into the bedroom.

Casually, she bends her body over the man's back, tugging at his pockets to grab the phone out of his jacket and switching it off. "It's a shame, his wife made amazing cookies," she mumbles. I tilt my head back, my brain wiring to check if I heard her correctly.

"What? You know him?" I question as I walk into the room, avoiding eye contact with the corpse.

"Yes, I sent him here to.. uh" she states but quickly catches herself, placing her bottom lip between her teeth. I fold my arms over for her to continue, raising my brow for an explanation. "I may or may not have told him to sneak a camera in your room" she admits awkwardly. My confused expression falls flat in an instant, disappointed but not surprised.

"Are you fucking serious Carmilla?" I chastise, fed up yet so angry that she would do something like this.

"What? He's usually very good at it, but he must have slacked tonight" she justified innocently.

"Oh, is that all you care about? Not me being filmed 24/7 for your perverted little obsession?!" I scold in frustration, the mixture of discomfort and fatigue fueling my temper.

"What did I tell you about shouting at me? I don't like it when it comes out of your pretty mouth" Carmilla murmured calmly, her tone stern with complement and condescend.