Ruth’s POV
The smell of blood was starting to change. It wasn’t sharp anymore, it was thick, clinging, mixing with the scent of cold plastic and the sweat behind my ears. That’s when I knew we couldn’t leave him on the floor any longer.
I don’t remember who moved first. Maybe he did, maybe I did. Maybe we didn’t speak at all and our bodies just knew what needed to be done. Emmett disappeared into the storage room and came back with rolls of plastic sheeting. His eyes met mine briefly before we crouched down beside the body. Neither of us said a word as we worked. The plastic stuck in places it shouldn’t have. The blood had started to dry already, turning dark and flaky, clinging to our fingers no matter how many times we wiped them against our clothes.
We wrapped him tightly, the plastic crinkling loud in the silence, and Emmett tied the ends with rope, cinching them down like he’d done it before. His hands didn’t tremble. Mine did, but I kept going. There was nothing left to feel, only the weight of a body that used to speak, laugh, lie. And now, it was just weight.
Dawn crept in slowly through the windows. Pale gray light stretched across the floor, touching the streaks of red we hadn’t cleaned. Emmett grabbed the keys, and I followed him out. He loaded the body into the back of the truck, slammed the door, and got behind the wheel. I slid into the passenger seat. The drive was wordless. Not cold, just empty. The kind of silence that could hold a scream if either of us were brave enough to let it out.
He turned off the main road just before the sun broke over the trees, the tires bumping through gravel and brush. We passed no one. No headlights or signs, the forest swallowed us whole. He parked deep in the woods, where even light seemed hesitant to follow. I stepped out. Emmett followed, shovel in hand. The truck stayed running behind us, headlights aimed at the narrow path ahead.
We didn’t ask each other where to go, we just walked. The deeper we went, the thicker the trees became, closing in like they were watching. Twigs scraped our legs, leaves tangled in my hair, a spider’s web caught across my arm and I didn’t flinch. I felt outside my body again, weightless and too heavy at the same time.
We stopped near a slope, the ground dipped down between thick roots and moss-covered rocks. Emmett began to dig, I didn’t wait to be asked. I dropped to my knees beside him, pushing the shovel into the hard-packed dirt. It fought back at first, resisting, like the earth itself didn’t want to take him. But we kept going. Inch by inch, clump by clump. The hole wasn’t deep enough, it wasn’t wide enough. But it would have to be enough.
We rolled him in together, his body hit the bottom with a dull thud. I didn’t flinch. Emmett stayed crouched on the edge of the hole, hands limp at his sides, eyes locked on the shape inside. His face had gone pale, drained, his mouth slightly open but empty of sound. I reached for his hand without thinking. His fingers closed around mine instantly, too tight, like if he let go he might fall in too.
We covered it together, fistfuls of dirt at first. Then shovel loads. The air was thick with the smell of soil and sweat. Bugs swarmed our faces. Sweat soaked through the back of my shirt. My palms burned from gripping the handle too hard. When it was done, we stood for a moment, staring at the uneven mound. Then we sat, side by side. Breathing like we’d been running for miles.
I leaned into him, not for warmth, not for comfort, just to feel something that wasn’t guilt or silence. His arm came around me slowly, unsure at first, then firm. I closed my eyes. his breath was uneven, and so was mine. Neither of us spoke. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t make it worse.
The kiss slammed into me like a scream. Emmett’s mouth was hot and frantic on mine, our teeth clashing, his hands already pulling at my clothes like he couldn’t stand the barrier. I yanked at his shirt, breathless, nails scraping over bare skin as I shoved it off his shoulders. He growled low in his throat, a sound that made me ache all over.
“Ruth,” he gasped, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak, “tell me you want this.”
“I want it,” I panted, already pulling my jeans down. “I need you- right fucking now.”
He groaned, deep and broken, grabbing my hips and flipping me beneath him. “Fuck. You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
His hand was already between my legs, fingers sliding through the slick heat. “Jesus,” he hissed, voice cracking. “You’re soaked.”
“Emmett,” I moaned, grinding against his hand, “please- please don’t make me wait.”
He didn’t. He shoved his pants down, lined himself up, and slammed into me all at once.
“Ah- fuck!” I cried out, back arching. “God- yes, yes-”
His body crashed against mine, cock buried deep as he began thrusting hard and fast, like he couldn’t hold back a second longer. The sounds we made weren’t careful, they were loud..
“Shit, you feel so good,” he groaned, voice shaking. “Tight- so fucking tight.”
“Don’t stop,” I gasped, digging my nails into his back. “Don’t fucking stop.”
He moaned into my mouth, hips pounding against me, sweat dripping from his jaw onto my throat. “Say my name.”
“Emmett,” I cried, each syllable breaking into a whimper. “Emmett- harder- please, I need-”
He drove into me with a guttural sound, hand slipping down to rub my clit, fast and messy. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. Come for me.”
“Fuck-” I screamed, body clenching, orgasm crashing through me like a tidal wave. “I’m coming- I’m- ahh- Emmett!” My whole body convulsed, shaking beneath him as I cried out over and over, the release ripping me wide open.
He let go a second later, growling as he buried himself deep. “Fuck, Ruth- fuck- I’m coming- I’m- ” He moaned loud and rough, hips jerking with the force of it. “Jesus- fuck- ”
He collapsed over me, both of us drenched in sweat and dirt and everything we didn’t know how to say. His forehead pressed to mine. His breath hitched in the back of his throat. When it was over, we didn’t speak. We lay there, half-dressed and filthy, our skin stained with dirt and blood and sweat.
The woods were still, the grave beside us was fresh. And neither of us had the faintest idea what came next.