RUIN: Psychological Enemies-to-Lovers Thriller

“I’m so sorry. Maybe, they were too young to understand.”

“I don’t think some of them ever will. The ones that were young. . .were so brainwashed. . .so traumatized. . .they bought into the reverend’s suggestions that they were doing the Lord’s work. They may think I’m Satan.”

“But you’re their savior. They have to know that.”

“Doesn’t matter anymore. I kept Noah with me. And. . .that was how it was supposed to be.” I cleared my throat. “Let’s go.”

I guided her out.

Cool air brushed against my face.

The sounds of outside played around us, and it was an intoxicating melody. Birds chirped. Bees buzzed. Squirrels and chipmunks scampered around, rustling grass and leaves. Wind whistled through the trees. Even my sisters’ wind chimes tinkled far off.

I turned my view to the sky. While it had been a sunny day, gray clouds moved forward, hiding away the sun. I sniffed rain on the way.

Phoenix scanned the chapel’s graveyard.

It lay between the chapel and Serenity Forest.

A wild garden sat on the right and left side of the graveyard. There were honeysuckles and roses, peonies and sweet shrub, tulips and lilies. Fruit trees bordered them, not ready for harvest, yet. Not bearing any fruit.

There was a harmony to it all.

A true holy sanctuary.

I walked us forward.

The fragrance from the garden gently drifted our way. It was an array of pungent, floral scents.

Phoenix raised her head and inhaled. Her expression softened. And then a smile appeared on her face.

My heart warmed again.

I was finding that I enjoyed making her smile, just as much as I loved making her bleed.

This journey with her will be interesting.

She raised her free hand and pointed at the roses. “Is this your garden or was it already here when you arrived?”

“Already here. The old graveyard manager wanted to preserve the natural character of the area. All the grave plots remained uniform. Artificial flowers were never allowed to be put down by grieving family members.”

“That’s not cool.”

“He did encourage them to plant flowers in the garden. That way their deceased could be buried among continued natural beauty.”

“Then, that’s okay.”

“By the time I arrived, the graveyard was no longer used. The congregation was extremely small. The majority of them were well over seventy. Some Sundays, Griffin and I would spend the morning picking up members in their eighties.” I frowned and walked us to the graveyard’s entrance. “I’m certain. . .”

“What?” She glanced my way.

“I’m certain the Reverend was sent to this remote chapel to not hurt anyone else.”

“You think he abused kids at another church?”

“I’m sure of it. They sent him here to hide.” I shook my head. “And then I brought a bunch of kids to him.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

She gave me a sad smile. “It does.”

I stopped us at the entrance. “Touché.”

There was a meditation bench by the entrance. It was meant for anyone in the congregation to come, sit, and pray.

Behind the bench, a memorial wall stood with the names of more deceased.

Serenity Forest stood behind the last line of graves. And it was all shades of dark greens and earthy browns. It was the perfect shelter of stretched branches and vines.

Amid the gently bowing branches, the wildflowers, and peaceful graveyard, there was a sense of serenity that no drug could match.

Leaving my small back porch, I guided her forward. The cool earth smoothed against my bare feet.

Chasing chipmunks, Noah darted in between old tombstones and zipped past us.

I called after him. “Don’t go past the graveyard.”

He barked and headed off on a serious hunt.

“It’s like he can understand you.”

“Of course he can.” I glanced at her. “Since we’re sharing him, maybe he’ll understand you.”

Her gaze had been on the graveyard. She turned to me. “Do you usually share your dog with the woman you kidnap?”

“I don’t usually kidnap women.”

She appeared shocked. “But you’ve brought them to your soul coffin.”

I guided us to the memorial wall. “Usually, it’s men, and those nights are not about pleasure. It’s all pain and death.”

She blinked. “But. . .why do you think you have a soul coffin at all?”

“It’s a space to torture and kill people in. It keeps the bloody mess out of the rest of my home, yet allows me to hide evidence easily.”

Horror hit her face.

I stopped us in front of the wall. “You wanted the truth.”

“I did.”

“I could lie.”

“No. Don’t do that.” She looked at the names. “Who are all of these people?”

“These are the dead congregation members that weren’t buried here, but who the chapel still wanted to honor. Some of these names are from the early 1900s. They stopped burying people here fifty years ago.”

She glanced over her shoulder, putting her view back on the house. “When did the chapel stop having a congregation?”

I frowned. “The moment I killed the reverend.”

“Everyone knows?”

“They don’t. Officially, the reverend is missing. But when the Church arrived, saw my young siblings, and the rage. . .the. . .changed evil that covered my face. . .I bet they knew.”