Page 159 of What We Become

“Close,” she breathes, so faint I almost miss it.

I pinch her nipple harder, twisting just to the edge of pain, and she chokes back a moan that vibrates through her whole body. Eli’s hand moves faster, more deliberate, and I feel the moment she breaks—her spine arching, her head falling back against his shoulder, her body seizing up as the orgasm rips through her in silence. I cover her mouth with mine again, swallowing the desperate sounds she can’t fully suppress, feeling her shudder and clench.

She goes limp between us, breathing hard through her nose, her forehead pressed to my chest. Eli eases his hand free slowly, then shifts behind her with a soft hiss of discomfort. He and I are still wound tight, carrying arousal we can’t finish while the mission waits outside the door.

Footsteps. The kitchen faucet runs. Marla’s voice again, telling Waldock she’ll bring him a fresh loaf tomorrow.

I hold Fury steady until her breathing evens out, until her fingers unclench from my shirt. Her eyes find mine, bright and wild and absolutely feral, and she mouths two words: Worth it.

“Thanks again, Jerry. You’re a lifesaver.”

He gives a fake modest chuckle that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

A beat later, footsteps head for the back door. The hinges whine, then the door clicks shut.

Nobody in the closet moves.

We listen.

Waldock grunts to himself, shuffles back through the kitchen. The springs of the recliner complain when his weight hits them. The TV swells a little louder—bright canned applause, some idiot host yelling about prizes, the wet crinkle of a snack bag opening.

I count in my head.

Ten. Twenty. Thirty.

Fury stays fused to me, every line of her body alert. Eli’s hand is still spread over her middle from behind, his breath measured now, controlled. Mine isn’t much better, but I keep it steady for her.

Another minute.

Waldock coughs. The remote clicks. The recliner creaks again, the lazy little movements of a man who thinks the night still belongs to him.

I tip my mouth to Fury’s ear. “We’re good.”

She nods once.

I ease the closet door open by inches. Hallway empty. Kitchen dim. No shadow that doesn’t belong. I slip out first, rope ready, then turn and take Fury’s hand to bring her with me. Eli follows, silent as smoke, and pulls his skull mask back down over his face. I do the same. Fury’s goes on last, her blade already in her hand when the white grin settles over her features.

Back to work.

We move down the hall in a line, slower now, no wasted motion. The near miss has sharpened everything. My pulse goes cold. Clean. Useful.

The living room opens in front of us.

Waldock is exactly where we expect—head back, one hand in a bag of Cheetos now, orange dust on his fingers. A contestant on the TV is screaming about a new car while his audience whoops on command.

I cover the distance in three strides.

The rope drops over his head before the first confused sound fully leaves his throat. I yank back hard, planting a boot behind the recliner and hauling the noose tight under his jaw. He comes up out of the chair in a violent jerk, chips flying, remote clattering across the floor. The game show host keeps screaming. Waldock does too, but it’s wet and strangled now, panic chewing his voice into pieces.

Eli is on him a second later, one hand clamping Waldock’s forehead back against the chair, the other pinning his arm before he can swing. Fury moves to the front, knife low at her side, mask grinning white while his eyes bulge over the rope digging into his throat.

He bucks. He claws at the line. Too late.

I brace and pull.

His heels drum against the carpet. Orange chip dust smears over his shirt as his hands scramble for purchase and find nothing. His face goes from pink to red to something darker, ugly veins standing in his neck under the pressure. I keep the tension exact. No slop. No mercy. Just enough for him to know what’s happening and why the air is leaving him.

“Jerry Waldock,” Eli says, voice flat through the mask. “You have been found guilty of the rape and assault of seven girls.”