Getting out of bed and dressed proved to be a task because of her injury. It wasn’t serious, just incredibly painful. Thankfully, it had missed the bone in her hip and anything else of importance. She had residual pain and would need to keep an eye on it for infection and get the stitches removed, but otherwise, she was incredibly lucky, which made her wonder what the purpose of shooting her at all was?
Making her way downstairs, she followed the murmur of male voices to the kitchen to see all four men bent over laptops and throwing ideas at each other. Not wanting to interrupt, she went and poured herself some coffee that had just finished percolating.
Listening to them make plans and discuss events from the past about her stalker left her with the distinct impression none of them knew she was even in the kitchen. Without thinking, she asked the question burning in her mind from just moments ago. “What was the point?”
All four heads whipped around to look at her, as well as four deadly looking guns had her dropping to the ground and landing on her fresh coffee, shattering the glass and burning her feet where it landed. “Fucking Christ!” She yelled out.
Hearing chairs scrapping across the floor in their haste to get up and Coop’s, “Language!” She was fighting to not be too pissed off but damn, it was hard.
“Screw you, Cooper! This fucking hurts! You try having four guns from four huge, pissed off men pointed at you and see how you react, dammit!” She yelled while Dane and Coop helped her up from the floor, ever mindful of her side and now her feet. “I just wanted a damn coffee!” She whined.
At Creed’s “Oh shit.”, she looked up at Dane, gulping at the look on his face.
“One. More. Time. Emily.” He scolded through clenched teeth.
“Or what?” She challenged. Shut up Emily, Shut. Up. She scolded herself this time.
Pulling her up against his body, she was immediately lost in memories from the night before. The feel of his chest rubbing on hers, the sound of his labored breaths, his hands on her hips. The growl in his voice even though she didn’t hear a word he was saying.
Feeling a hard chest at her back, she closed her eyes and leaned back, knowing right off that it was Coop from his musky scent. A tinge of sweat and something else she couldn’t quite identify, but was musky and sweet, yet spicy. When he wrapped one hand around her waist resting just above her pelvis and placed the other on the under curve of her ass, she was lost.
“Ouch!” She screeched when said hand on her ass decided to pinch her. “What the hell?” She half yelled.
“Pay attention!” Coop yelled right back.
“What? You’re gonna yell at me for swearing, threaten to spank my ass, and then probably cop a feel. Am I wrong?” She questioned. Hearing two deep chuckles come from the other side of the room, she turned and glared, “Shut it you two.”
When Dane grabbed a chunk of her hair and pulled her head back at a nearly painful angle, he leaned close and whispered in her ear. “Not another fucking word from you woman, or I’ll smack your ass so hard you won’t sit for a week.” When she went to protest, he continued. “And I’ll do it in front of Linc and Creed. You really want that? For them to see just how soaked you get for us, how the redder your ass is, the hornier you get?”
At Coop’s whisper in her other ear, she wanted to melt into the floor, not sure if from embarrassment or arousal. “They get off on it, ya know. Watching other people’s pleasure, seeing a sexy little thing like you coming from a spanking will make them harder than a nail. But us? Well, we’d be pissed the fuck off.” Looking into her eyes he finished. “We’d be forced to kill them for seeing you like that; naked and horny for us. No one sees this sexy body but us.”
“Now, be a good girl, take this little ass upstairs and give Kenny a call. She’s been driving us nuts all morning wanting to talk to you.” Dane ordered.
Nodding her head in agreement, she quickly and quietly made her way back upstairs. Feeling embarrassed that Linc and Creed had just witnessed that little scene but also incredibly ravenous for her men’s attention.
You’re so screwed, Em, her inner voice said. I sure hope so, the demon on her shoulder taunted.
Letting Emily walk away after getting the three of them so aroused with his threats and promises was almost one of Dane’s biggest regrets. He wanted to just jump back in bed with her, love her for days on end, but it was an unrealistic dream at best. They had a stalker to catch and she had to learn to be herself again once they did. His biggest fear was when that did happen, she wouldn’t want them anymore.
Shaking off the discouraging thoughts, he went back to reading the article he was looking at before she came downstairs. It was the last murder on record that they could find from approximately six months ago; not long after Emily had moved to Austin.
On the eve of April 29th, 2015, the body of a young woman was found mutilated in her home. Cause of death has been confirmed as severe blood loss. Ecru Police has identified her as 27-year-old Layla Heifer, single mother of 2 young girls. Originally from the state’s capital, Jackson, Mississippi, friends have told us that she moved to the small town to be in a close-knit community to raise her young daughters a little over one year ago.
The manner in which she was murdered was particularly gruesome. Slashes were made on nearly her entire body. One officer has gone so far as to say this was the most brutal and senseless attack he’s seen in his entire career. Police also believe she was raped but aren’t confirming that detail just yet.
An inside source has also confirmed this is not the first murder committed by the person who did it. Ms. Heifer’s murder has been loosely connected to several others across the lower central US, from Nebraska to Tennessee and as far as Utah. Unconfirmed, there has been at least seven murders found so far that are similar in fashion, dating back as far as September 2009.
Looking through the photos again, he was just as disgusted now as he was when he had first saw them. “Fuck.” He blurted out, pushing the screen away from him. “You guys find anything else?”
“FBI database says they call him The Gypsy Butcher because he travels so much, but the murders are all the same.” Creed murmured not looking up or really paying too much attention to anyone.
“Do we want to
know how you’re in the FBI database?” Coop questioned.
“Probably not.” He mumbled again.
“You don’t have her phone, do you?” Linc asked suddenly, looking up at them, sounding eager.