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She picks up the torch again, and his body quivers, tears rolling down his cheeks as he watches her turn it back on.
His sobbing wracks through him, and once the flames eat through his shriveled-up dick, his screams are like nothing I’ve heard before.
She selects a knife next and edges it across his throat.
“Go fuck yourself,” she whispers as she cuts across his flesh, crimson staining her hands with the color of retribution.
When he’s finally dead, she stands tall, staring at what she’sdone, and for a moment, I think she’ll regret it.
Instead, she turns to me and smiles.
“So…” She swipes the back of her hand against her bloody cheek. “When can we do that again?”
KAYLA
I can’t believe I enjoyed that. The blood. The gore. But the more I do it, the easier it becomes. When I kill them, I’m able to focus on their actions rather than the fact that I’m a murderer.
Maybe it sounds like an excuse, but it’s valid to me. They’re animals, and some animals need to be put down.
I’ve been scouring the newspapers and the television for any reports of the murders I’ve committed, but so far there has been only one about Fred Avon. An online newspaper mentioned him going missing.Convicted and registered sex offender gone missing, it said. But A has assured me we’re clean. That no trace of any of the bodies can lead back to either one of us.
Sitting beside him in his car, I pass glances at his large hand currently occupying my thigh, his fingers thick and masculine as they grip me like they own me.
A woman like me should loathe the idea of being owned by anyone, but with him, it doesn’t feel like a bad thing. It feels as though he’s rescued me, made me accept who I am now more and more every day.
After he cleaned the blood in the house, he took me back to his place so I could wash away the evidence while he got rid of the body.
When he took a shower, I had every intention of sneaking into the bathroom and seeing him. What the hell would he do to me?He’d never hurt me. I know that like I know the sky is blue. But when I tried to open the door, it was locked. Of course it was.
We drive silently back to my place, and as we reach my driveway, he stops the car and turns to me.
“You still have the necklace I gave you?” he asks, whisking me from my thoughts.
I grin. Fingering the pendant from beneath my t-shirt—well, his t-shirt since I needed to borrow one of his to wear back home—I tug the necklace up, showing him that I in fact kept my promise.
“It’s always with me. Never gonna take it off, remember?”
He nods. “Good girl.”
The pads of his fingers massage my inner thighs, and I squirm from the way my core heats from a single touch.
He groans as he registers my discomfort. “Go, before I do things I’ll regret.”
“I doubt either of us will regret a thing.”
“Kayla, after everything you’ve been through… Are you sure?”
Is he considering it?
But I won’t sleep with him with a mask on. I want to see him. Touch his face. Feel his mouth on mine.
“I know what I want and how I want it. And I want it all with you. But first…” I lower my hand on top of his. “I need you to trust me and show me your face.”
“Fuck,” he mutters, clasping the top of his head, the black hoodie he always wears around it. “You need to get out of here, baby bird.” His tone grows huskier. “I’m this close to saying fuck it all and burying myself inside your pretty pussy right here. And that’s the last thing I wanna do because the first time I’ll have you is when I can spread you open and see every breathtaking inch of you.”
My body grows ragged, a warm shudder of desire rolling hotthrough the apex of my thighs, needing him there.
“Go, Kayla. Now.” There’s demand in his voice, and everything in me wants to disobey.
