Raiden grunts and continues slamming into her as I bail on the pillow, throwing it aside and sitting up against the headboard. Surely this shit will be over soon.
Reaching for my bedside table, I pass Spikezilla and switch on my bedside lamp, filling the room with a dull light before grabbing the junk mail magazine that shows up once a month. I start thumbing through it while continuing to mimic their ridiculous performance. “Oh yes! More. Give me more. Just like that!”
“That’s right, Firecracker,” he grunts, a laugh in his tone. “Moisten those rough edges.”
I fucking hate him. I really fucking hate him.
“Fuck,” the girl groans. “I’m close. Are you with me, Kiara St. James? God, he fucks me so well. So deep. Yes, Kiara! Fuck, yes! OH GOD! KIARA ST. JAMES!”
I’ve never hated the sound of my own name so damn much.
As the girl gets closer to the edge, the walls truly shake. My bedside table rocks with the momentum coming from behind the wall, and I really consider the noise-canceling headphones. How long is this bullshit really going to go on? And I don’t just mean tonight. Is he going to torment me with his ridiculous sexcapades for the rest of my natural-born life?
Movement catches in my peripheral just moments before a loud crash fills my bedroom, and my head snaps to the left, right where Spikezilla used to be, and my chest sinks.
Immediate silence fills the two apartments as I scramble to theedge of my bed, peering over the side in fear. “What was that?” the girl whispers as I take in my beautiful Spikezilla scattered across my hardwood floors, her tiny little pot smashed into a million pieces, as her little spiky body lays on the floor, covered by her own soil.
“OH, HELL NO!”
I’m really going to fucking kill him this time.
“I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t replace in the morning,” Raiden tells her just moments before he picks up his wild thrusting once again. She laughs, and just like that, any care for their recklessness disappears. But I’m no longer playing his game. It’s gone too fucking far now. Before, it was simply about who could irritate the other the most, but now that Spikezilla has been compromised, this is a fucking war.
Throwing myself out of bed, I gently scoop Spikezilla up off the ground, not caring how her little spikes stab into my palms. Carrying her through to my kitchen counter, I lay her down before going back and scooping up as much of her soil as possible.
Tears well in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
After putting together temporary housing for my sweet Spikezilla, I storm back to my bedroom and tear open my bedside drawer just as the floating shelf above my bed comes tumbling down, crashing onto my bed right where my head used to be.
Reaching for the gun, I pick it up, clutching it tightly in my hand before turning on my heel, only something has me pausing, and I find myself hesitating in my bedroom doorway.
I have morals.
I don’t kill innocents. But he almost took Spikezilla’s life. The jury is still out on whether she will survive, so surely I’d be justified, right? But on the other hand, it’s not as though he set out to purposefully hurt me in that way. He’s trying to get under my skin, and sure, it’s working like a treat, but I don’t believe he would intentionally hurt me like that. He’s an asshole, but he’s yet to show that there’s anything malicious about him. It’s not like he knew about Spikezilla, or how damn precious she is to me, even if she’s just a cactus.
Fuck.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I turn back and pull open my bedside drawer once again, only this time, I lift the false bottom and peer inside, and staring back at me is the one thing that could possibly get me through the rest of the night. Switching out the gun for my new savior, I settle the false bottom back into place before closing the drawer.
Raiden Kane might live to see another day, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t be punished for what he did here tonight.
Moving into my bathroom, I silently step up onto the vanity before reaching up to the ceiling hatch and quickly twisting the tiny screw that holds it in place. The moment it comes loose, the hatch falls open, and I don’t waste a single moment pulling myself up into the ceiling cavity.
I’m fueled by anger as I begin army crawling through the slim cavity, dragging myself toward Raiden’s apartment. I don’t make a sound, but I’m not worried about that. I have the kind of training men could only dream about, and with the extravagant noise of their fuckfest coming from below, being caught isn’t something I’m concerned about.
Hovering over Raiden’s bedroom, I find the fixture for the recessed light fitting in the center of his bedroom ceiling, and a wicked smile pulls across my face.
This is going to be all too easy.
The light is off, and as I brace myself on the metal framing in the ceiling, I pull back the levers that keep the light fixture in place before lifting it out of the ceiling and peering down into Raiden’s bedroom.
Well fuck. I’ve gotta be honest, hearing Raiden fuck and seeing him in action are two very different things.
He’s with a stunning redhead, and she’s just as fiery as her redheaded stereotype suggests. She’s clawing at his sculptured back, one leg braced over his shoulder as he drills into her with that massive, pierced redwood tree trunk. But it’s not her that holds my attention.
It’s him.
He’s a fucking machine.
