When he stood, he took me with him. I leaned my head back on his chest as he righted his jeans and then mine. “Your cheek’s bleeding,” he said softly, stroking it with his thumb.
“Good.” I turned my head and kissed his palm.
“Come on.” He took my hand and led me forward. A few steps later, we were in the clearing, where a small crowd was waiting.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Everyone at the camp would have heard me being fucked like a bitch in heat, and that had been his intention from the start.
Romero was a territorial beast.
I loved it.
Being told to sit on a wooden log serving as a bench by a fire pit while he went to talk with someone, however, I didn’t. Bryce stood a little ways back, keeping watch with two acolytes.
“Girl, that was hot as fuck,” Arlen whispered, glaring at a woman who kept doing double takes at us.
“It felt even better,” I sighed, still feeling my just fucked high.
“You know people are staring at us?”
“Kind of hard not to see them. It’s even harder to pretend I care.”
The looks on these people’s faces when they saw my boys (yes, my boys) again ranged from shocked to elated, and some even shed tears. Now that all three had slunk off together, me and Arlen were open season.
I ignored it and focused on our surroundings. There were trailers haphazardly placed everywhere. Some looked like they should have been junked decades ago. Others looked in their prime and had small flower beds in front of them.
In a section all its own, a group of kids played on a manmade jungle gym.
There was an awning across the property with two raggedy washing machines beneath it, but no dryer. The people clearly lived in poverty, but just a look at their faces showed they didn’t care.
Everyone who wasn’t gawking like they had no common sense was wearing a smile. I spotted a few that could use a good lesson in hygiene, and a couple of the women were wearing tops that exposed their tits completely, but all in all, everyone looked clean and well fed for the most part.
After studying them for a good ten minutes, something wiggled at the back of my mind. There was a scent in the air that smelled so familiar, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
“You smell that?” Arlen asked, as if she’d heard the thought inside my head.
“Yeah, it kinda smells like…bacon?” No, these people could never afford such a commodity. That much was obvious. Maybe they had their own pigs somewhere.
We were still trying to figure it out when there was a soft thud behind us.
“Afternoon ladies, nice to have you here,” a tall man greeted, stepping past our log and dragging the body he’d just dropped by the ankle. There was a large knife with a curved, jagged blade strapped to his thigh.
Looking to the square-shaped pit and four posts evenly spaced around it, my brain quickly supplied why this whole scene had a similar feel to the one in the cannibal’s barn.
Arlen tensed beside me, going ramrod straight.
“Hey, now, you’re safe here. I wouldn’t touch Brock’s family.” He held his calloused hands up in an I-mean-you-no-harm sort of way.
Who the fuck was Brock? Shit. Romero grew up here. Was Brock his dad? Oh, hell no.
Don’t judge, Cali. I chastised myself just as Arlen hissed, “Not only are they psychopaths, they’re cannibals too.”
It was then the man on the ground’s head lolled and he looked up at me with hazy, unfocused eyes. He’d been drugged, and whatever he was given was some strong shit because he couldn’t lift any of his limbs.
The tall man went about his business, not looking the slightest bit offended at Arlen’s response. I hid my reaction, trying to process the fact Romero possibly ate human. Well, that possibly was a definitely if this was where he grew up. I could kill him for bringing us here and not giving a heads up about what this place was—a trailer park for cannibals.
The man prodded the coals and lit a fire before coming back to the grab what I assumed was his dinner. He stripped the man of his mud covered clothing and then stretched his arms out in a T.