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How did that make sense? It didn’t.
I clung to Gareth’s arms as his hips began to rock, dragging that cock in and out of my core like fucking it was its job. My eyes had to close. I lost myself to the pleasure that had been building within me before, and it wasn’t too long before I cried out, every muscle in my lower half tensing up as I came with a force that couldn’t be denied.
One of his hands went to the back of my neck, holding my head against his shoulder as he grunted out, “My uncle did something right for once. You really are perfect for me.” His pace between my legs didn’t let up, not even as I came. He kept fucking me like he needed to. Like he’d just been wandering in the desert and I was the oasis he’d been searching for.
But therein dwelled the problem. I didn’t want to be perfect for Gareth. If I was perfect for Gareth, what did that say about me, never mind him? What kind of person did that make me? I’d always known I was different than everybody else, but not like this. I wasn’tthisdifferent.
Gareth fucked me for a while. All grasping and greedy, almost desperate, like he’d been waiting his whole life to find someone who would accept him, his flaws included—but that wasn’t me. I didn’t accept him or his murderous tendencies. I needed to get out of this pool house, get away from him, so I could call the cops and report a body.
I had to. I couldn’t let this go. It was… well, it wasn’t the type of secret you could overlook. Gareth was a murderer. A killer. A goddamned serial killer, based on his creepy paintings, the locked fridge, and what he liked to paint with. You didn’t get that much blood from various people from asking nicely.
No. I might be different, I might be a little off sometimes, but I was nothing like Gareth.
A low, deep moan left him. His movements grew rigid and jerky, and I knew he was seconds from coming, seconds from once again filling me up with his cum. Gareth pounded into me hard, so hard and so deep I cried out with him. His arms tensed around me as he spewed his seed inside me.
I’d be lying if I said it felt wrong. I’d be the world’s worst liar if I tried to say this didn’t feel good. Still, that didn’t mean I could forget what I’d seen. Unlike some people, I knew the difference between right and wrong, and murder was just about the biggest no-no out there.
Gareth breathed out a loud sigh, his shoulders hunching before he stumbled back, pulling his cock out of me. Though I tried not to look at it, it was damn near impossible not to. My eyes dipped low to it, taking in the way it was still hard, its length coated in what must’ve been my own arousal.
Behind his glasses, his eyes were on me as he stuffed himself away, his mouth thinning into a line. Back to his cold and cruel expression, the one he normally wore. I took that as my cue to slide off the counter and reach for my leggings, slipping them on while trying to ignore the way he stared at me.
Maybe he thought I’d fight him harder. Maybe he thought I’d freak out more.
Trust me, I wanted to. I wanted to do both, but I had limited options here, if I wanted to get out of this pool house alive. If I gave him no reason to keep me alive, what was stopping him from stringing me up in that cool room and draining me of my blood?
My blood would never grace his canvases.
I mumbled something about needing to shower after that, and holding my head up high, I walked away from him, leaving the pool house while hoping he wouldn’t stop me. My heart pounded wildly in my chest. I made it to the house, and once I was certain I was out of his sight, I ran. Ran through the house, up the steps to my room, where I grabbed my phone and then darted to the bathroom.
After shutting and locking the door, I turned on the water so it’d sound like I was showering, just in case Gareth strolled upstairs, and then I called nine-one-one.
Chapter Thirteen – Brianna
It was the first time I’d ever called nine-one-one for anything. I’d always done my best to keep my nose clean. Not having friends growing up helped do that. I was always more interested in my art than going out and hanging with a group of people I didn’t even like much. I was a loner through and through.
I didn’t stay on the line, even though the responder wanted me to. I didn’t identify myself, but I did say I saw a body in the pool house of Montgomery Manor, so if they wanted to piece together who I was, they’d probably be able to.
But I didn’t want to linger on the phone, because I didn’t want Gareth coming up and hearing me talk while I was supposed to be in the shower. So, after I finished the call, I tore off my clothes and hopped in—mostly so I could clean between my legs and wipe away all of the sweat that had accumulated on my body during that quickie with Gareth.
I could hate myself later for it. Right now, I had other things to worry about.
Once I was done, I got out, dried myself off, and threw on my clothes. With my phone in my hand, I walked out into the hall, tossing a glance both ways.
It didn’t look like Gareth had come back to his room, which meant he was still in the pool house.
I debated on going to my room or heading downstairs so I could see the police when they got here to investigate. Obviously, I wanted to see them drag Gareth out in handcuffs, so I opted for downstairs.
I went into the living room, standing in a corner near a set of windows. Peering around the curtains, I could see the long driveway and therefore anyone who pulled in. I kept the lights off, the TV off; any clue that would tell Gareth I was in here. If he happened to come inside the house before the police got here, he wouldn’t even know I was there.
As I waited, I struggled to get my heart under control. I supposed I could try my mom, but odds were she wouldn’t believe me. Sad thing was, she might not even care. My mom was insane enough about money and wanting a better life for herself that she might just be capable of overlooking a few murders every now and then.
The truth was, I didn’t have anyone else to call. No one to help me stay calm. I was alone, like I always was.
I hated being alone. It got so tiring, so boring.
My eyes were peeled on the driveway, and I didn’t know how much time passed before I saw lights turn and pull into the base of the driveway near the road. My heart damn near exploded in anticipation, my chest growing tight.
But if that was a cop car, why weren’t the lights on? Why weren’t they flashing? And why was there only one? I’d called in a body, for fuck’s sake.
