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“I think he’s done this before,” Cobra laughed, lazily moving his hips.
With the exception of Arlen and Cali, we’d all seen Cobra do this so many times we couldn’t pretend to be surprised.
I pulled the gag from Vicky’s mouth and the first word she said gave us our second lead.
“Jericho? I thought that got torn down.”
Cali looked from me to Grimm, the only two people in the room who would know what Jericho was.
“If it didn’t, it’s old as shit and…” I let them fill in the blanks.
“The perfect hideaway,” she and Grimm said at the same time, sharing a rare smile with one another—rare for Grimm, that is. The motherfucker grinned less than I did.
“J-J-Jonah,” Vicky stuttered, beginning to shake. Marco slouched completely, crying louder than any bitch I’d ever tortured. His wife had just signed and delivered their asses.
Cobra patted his back and slowly pulled out. His dick was still hard and tinged red.
“Alright.” I nodded. “What now?” I looked at Cali, giving her the go head to let loose.
She gave me a slow smile. I could see the gears already turning her head. “It’s only nine-thirty. We have over two hours.”
He stood back and watched me work.
Letting my mind lead me, I straddled Vicky’s lap, placed my hands on either side of her face, and stared into her eyes. Her breath smelled sweet, like toffee. She whimpered when I ran the tip of a finger over her ravaged eyelid.
We kill them slowly.
“It’s okay.” I gently ran my thumbs up and down her cheeks in a soothing motion, luring her into a false sense of safety.
Taking a small breath, I placed my lips on hers in a slow, sensual kiss.
Vicky sobbed but reciprocated pretty damn fast. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, each wondering what the hell I was doing. When her tongue hesitantly touched mine, I bit down on it as hard as I could.
Prolong their suffering.
The first thing she tried to do was turn her head. I dug my fingers in until I could feel skin beneath my nails, and held her in place. I ignored her ear rupturing scream, jumping up when I tasted blood. Immediately, I spit it right into her bad eye.
I dropped down to my knees in front of the black duffel bags. Looking up, I measured the distance from the square banister overlooking the lower level to the floor.
Make them bleed.
It would suffice.
Romero crouched down beside me as I dug, lost in my own little world.
“What are you looking for?” He reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear.
“String or rope and a blindfold.”
He unzipped the bag I hadn’t gotten to yet and took out a roll of twine and the same type of black cloth he’d placed over my head the day we met.
“I want his socks off.” I pointed to Marco. “And then you’ll need your knife.” His dark eyes studied me for a beat and then he moved towards Marco’s chair.
“Is there a shovel somewhere, to dig a hole?” I asked the room, unrolling the twine.
“I can do that,” Bryce volunteered. “How big does it need to be?”
“Big enough to hold a body.”
