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I groan, cursing out loud. She doesn't leave me with much choice. The worst part is, I'm going fucking soft for her. I want to help her. I want to make her feel safe, but the option she wants is even worse than the trunk. She just doesn't know it yet. But then my sadistic side awakens. The one that wants to do this to her, wants to show her how I make the money that pays for her grandmother's nursing home.
"You want to come with me?" I ask to make sure, and her vigorous nod convinces me she does. "Fine. We're going in. Stick by my side, don't leave me for a second. Don't look at anyone. Don't make a scene."
"Yes, of course," she answers quickly. "Thank you, Alaric."
Her sweetness makes my heart hurt as it did before. It's an unwelcome feeling, especially since I've almost managed to convince myself I don't have a heart at all.
I get out of the car and open the door for her as well. We walk to the front of the building. It's a sleazy, shitty strip club I normally wouldn't step foot in. Purgatory is just so much better.
I grab Monroe's hand and drag her beside me. We walk into the joint, and I instantly feel everyone's eyes going to my pretty companion, devouring her. Anger simmers inside me, threatening to boil over as I drag her inside the club. She does as she was told and keeps her gaze trained to the floor. I want to tell her she's a good girl, but my tongue is tied. I need to focus on what I have to do here, what Monroe is about to witness. I need to step into the role of what the Lombardis made me—a murderer.
Someone approaches us, but I give the prick an icy glare. It's enough for him to back off. I know exactly what he wants—a taste of Monroe. But I'll sooner rip his fucking eyeballs out than let him lay a single dirty finger on my property. She's mine now, and I'm getting really fucking close to my breaking point. I almost want one of these shitheads to make a wrong move so I can punish them in front of my girl.
We walk into a VIP room, where my victim is. I push aside the veiled curtain blocking our entrance, already knowing what kind of scene we're going to walk in on. It's easiest to take the bastards down when they're balls deep inside a hooker. And that's exactly what's happening in the back room of this shitty club.
An old, balding man with a beer belly is fucking a strung-out looking girl, grabbing her dark hair as he grunts and drives himself deeper and deeper inside her cunt.
"What the hell?" Monroe whimpers. I don't let go of her hand.
"Get out," I bark at the dark-haired girl. She looks like she's about to argue, but then I flash her my red bracelet, and her eyes widen, making her look even more drugged up. My heart slows into a steady beat, and I'm in the zone, ready to fire a bullet at the old prick. He grunts as the girl moves away, and his semi-flaccid cock drops out of her pussy. The girl makes a desperate grab for some clothes, but I stop her, pulling out a gun. "I said get the fuck out. You don't have time for that. Fucking leave."
She lets out a soft shriek and runs out of the room stark naked.
"W-What the hell?" Monroe repeats, clutching my hand for dear life.
"You," I bark at the guy. "Your name David Hodge?"
"Depends who's asking," the prick slurs drunkenly. Finally, I let go of Monroe's hand, letting her tremble alone in the corner of the sleazy room. The guy is still naked as I walk him up to the wall and slam his back against it.
"I said," I continue icily. "Are you David fucking Hodge?"
"I-I-I..." He catches sight of my red bracelet, and his eyes widen with fear. "Please, man. Let's talk about this."
It's all the confirmation I need to know this is the prick I'm supposed to kill.
I pull out my gun while Monroe shrieks. Fuck, she's distracting. But I need to focus right now. I’ll worry about my girl later.
I feed David the barrel of my gun, impassively watching his bleary eyes fill with tears.
"Look away, Monroe," I hiss.
"No!" she cries out. "Don't do this!"
"Look away!" My voice betrays how pissed off I am with her, and she whimpers as she looks down, softly crying as I pull off the safety of my gun. "Goodbye, David Hodge."
Unceremoniously, I paint the walls with the guy's brain. The gunshot rings out in the room, and David's lifeless body falls to the ground with a heavy thud.
It's over. It's done. And now, Monroe finally knows just how big of a monster I truly am.
