ONE

CARNAGE

Time stood still for Eve Whitlock as she stared at the corpse that was slumped over her father’s desk. Horrified, she flicked her eyes across the blood that was pooling around the man’s head on the polished wooden surface.

Her mind refused to work as she tried to process what she was seeing. Inside her head, she was screaming. But on the outside, she was frozen in shock. The world seemed have tumbled into a macabre reality. From the moment she stepped through the door, she’d left the life of partying with her equally carefree friends behind and landed in some kind of slasher movie.

She scanned the interior of the portable cabin, noticing the blood splattered office walls and scratch marks on the furniture. Unable to comprehend what she was seeing, she tried to focus. Cabinets were smashed to pieces, their contents scattered across the floor. At the end of the room, her eyes fell upon the desk again.

Her heart skipped a beat when she focused on the dark-haired man who was leaning over the desk with his back to her. He appeared to be searching for something on her father’s desk. The dead body was opposite him, and the longer she stared at it the more it resembled her father.

The handle of her gemmed handbag slipped through her fingers and dropped to the floor. She watched it fall in slow motion until it thudded against the tile and snapped open, spilling the contents out into a pool of blood.

She jumped at the loud thud, and her senses came flooding back to her.

Without a pause, she snatched a broken chair leg off the floor and launched herself at the man.

He turned to face her with wide blue eyes. “Wait!”

“Murderer!” she cried as she swung the hefty wooden club at his head, all her instincts telling her to kill or be killed.

He caught the pole and yanked it out of her hands, swinging her away from him with ease. “Stop! Listen to me.”

She slipped in a pool of blood, falling to her knees. Her cream chiffon dress draped in the fluid, soaking it up.

Trying not to think about the carnage around her, she kicked off her designer heels and clenched her hands into fists.

The man approached her, but she rolled away from him and onto her feet. She moved on autopilot, her years of self-defense training controlling every action.

“Just, calm down.” He turned to face her, holding up his hands in a placating gesture.

Crouching low, she launched up off the ground, kicking out at him.

He dodged, sidestepping around her and coming up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist in an iron grip, trapping her in his grasp. “Please, you need to calm down.”

She narrowed her eyes, glancing at the body of her father. “You need to die,” she muttered as she jerked back, head butting him in the face.

He grunted in pain and released his grip on her.

She spun around to see him cupping his jaw. She aimed a punch at his abdomen, but he was too fast.

He grabbed her arms and pushed her backwards. Simultaneously, one of his feet hooked around the back of her ankles, yanking her legs out from beneath her.

They fell, hitting the floor together. His weight landed on top of her, pinning her down.

She tried to punch him again, but his hands wrapped around her wrists, locking her arms above her head and pinning them to the floor.

“Stop. For godsake, just stop for a minute.”

“Who are you? Why did you kill my father?” She struggled to get out of his grasp, kicking out at his jean-clad legs to try to dislodge him.

“I didn’t do this!”

“Liar! You’re the only person here.” She could barely form words. The anger burning through her was too strong. It was only just beginning to hit her that her father was dead. Shock trembled through her body as realization set in.

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “I came to help with a job your father was working on, and then…” He glanced back at the desk, shaking his head.

“I don’t believe you.” A lump formed in her throat as sorrow and regret amassed in the pit of her stomach. Her lasts words with her dad had been an anger-fueled fight about her future.

He can’t be dead.

The urge to fight back waned as fear and loss took hold of her.

The man who was holding her seemed to sense the change. He released her before rolling off and standing up.

“I’m Cain Spencer,” he said, offering her his hand.

She ignored the hand, pushing herself off the floor and staggering over to the body on the desk.

Maybe it isn’t him. It could be anyone.

She touched the shoulder of the body. It was cold.

“Don’t…” Cain said, his voice echoing behind her.

She ignored him, pushing the body upright in the hope that it wasn’t her father in the chair.

Bloody eyes stared back at her. His once green eyes were red with burst blood vessels. His skin was gray tinged, and his teeth were bared in agony.

She stumbled backwards, gripping onto the desk for support as her legs trembled.

Acid bile burned her throat, and her stomach heaved at the stench of death in the air.

She backed up toward the door of the portable cabin but slipped in the pool of blood and began to fall.

Strong arms caught her, holding her steady.

“We need to get you out of here.” Cain’s deep voice echoed in her ear.

She nodded as her body went numb with shock. Her mind shut down. She couldn’t think about anything. She allowed Cain to scoop her into his arms and carry her toward the door while she blankly stared back over his shoulder at her father’s face.

Her father’s head had fallen back, so he was now lounging in his chair with his horrific eyes locked onto her. Blood stained his white shirt in a river of red. His throat had been clawed open into a ragged gash.

Closing her eyes, she hoped the nightmare would go away. But even through closed eyes, she could still see his face.

She tried to scream, to move, but a lump blocked her throat, and her body wouldn’t stop shaking.

Oh god, someone help me.

She glanced up at Cain. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw, and his lips were set in a grim line as he carried her through the doorway and out to the construction site.

Once outside, she inhaled fresh air with a sense of relief as the wind whipped her dark hair around her face.

He peered down at her. “I’m going to put you in my car, okay? Then we’re calling the police.”

She nodded. It was crazy. She didn’t even know who he was, and she’d tried to kill him, but nothing made sense tonight. Her world had just changed forever, and she knew it.

Her skin was sticky with blood, and her head was whirling.

How did this happen?

Cain paused beside a black muscle car. “You’re going to be okay.” He told her, gripping her tightly against his warm body before opening the door and depositing her in the passenger seat. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and then turned away as he called the police.

She closed her eyes. She didn’t believe she would ever be okay again.

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