Chapter Twenty-Two
Idris
It seems some of them got spooked and ran. Others? Not so much. In fact, they are spread out in public as if to make a point, or they simply don’t care. That will be their downfall.
You can’t hide or run from Boogeyman.
“Which one first?” I offer her the list. It has some mug shots and social media pictures with information. She flips through the pictures and stops on a blond man, her eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. She looks at me with an expression even I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of.
“Him.”
I face forward and start the engine, following the details on the form. It lists his home location, a two-story house in a bad neighbourhood. It takes us around an hour to get through the morning traffic to get there. Graffiti coats the walls, rubbish is scattered on the ground, houses are boarded up, and there’s even a burnt car on the corner. I park on the next street over from the house and look at her.
“Ready?”
She doesn’t answer but gets out. I follow and watch as she pulls a giant knife from her hip, twisting it as she storms towards the address. Eyes alert, I follow her. She doesn’t even knock on the door, she just tries the handle and then snarls when it’s locked. I move her to the side and kick the door in.
It flies open with a bang, wood splintering everywhere. There’s a crash upstairs as she rushes in, her eyes wild as she turns her head before spotting the half broken wooden staircase to the left. She takes the steps two at a time. Sighing, I place the door back in place so passers-by don’t call the police and follow after her at a slower pace, my boots loud.
I hear a scream before it’s cut off. I follow it down the hallway, passing two open doorways. One to a bathroom, the other to an empty room. The last door is to a bedroom. There are beer bottles, empty vodka bottles, and used needles scattered all over with clothes thrown here, there, and everywhere. But there is a giant flat screen TV, probably stolen, in the corner of the room.
In the wooden double bed lies the blond man. He’s already bleeding with Alena perched on his chest, her knife digging into his bare skin. He’s staring up at her in shock, but it turns into a snarl as he tries to throw her. I’m there in an instant, my gun pointed at his head. “Don’t move,” I order.
He freezes, his eyes going to me, and in his gaze, I see the knowledge he will die here, he knows what I’m capable of, and that if I come for you, you die. But it’s not me he should be worried about, because I know this is the man who carved his name into her stomach, and from the way she’s watching him, it makes me think she wants to return the favour.
Keeping my gun aimed at his head, I grab a wooden chair pushed against the wall, turn it, and straddle it. “Continue,” I tell her.
She looks over at me with a bloodthirsty grin, the sight going straight to my cock. Groaning, I rearrange my hard-on and watch as she rips away the sheet covering him, leaving him naked. He tries to slap her, but I fire my gun in warning, hitting the pillow next to him, which explodes in feathers, and he freezes. “Next time, it goes through your kneecap.”
“I just wanted to say hi,” Alena taunts and presses her hand to the top of the knife handle, pushing the blade deeper until he gasps and blood drips across his pale, skinny chest. Droplets stain his skin ruby red before rolling down his side and dropping to his white bedding. She releases the pressure and leans closer. “I figured we could finish playing. You got to have your fun, but I didn’t get to have mine.”
He tries to speak, exposing his mutilated tongue, so instead, he glares at her and mouths, “Crazy.” She backhands him, the slap so loud it rings out and his head is whipped to the side.
“I’m not crazy!” she screams and then flips her hair over her shoulder. Alena slowly moves the knife down his chest to his stomach, right above his quivering belly. “Don’t be rude.”
I watch as she drags the knife down, a hiss leaving her lips when it splits the skin and blood wells. With a crazed look, she slides it back up, deeper, slicing him open. He screams and struggles, but she keeps going. Alena laughs as blood coats her knife, her hands, her arms, and her face. She slices and slices intently, his screams growing increasingly louder as she pins him down.
I watch the way the bright red coats her skin, the way her lips part on a moan, and my desire grows. His screams only egg me on as I lean farther forward, grinding my erection into the chair. She shifts back then, and I grin when I spot what she carved.
DOG.
He lies there panting, his eyes rolling around desperately as sweat drips down his pale face. “Who’s the dog now?” She spits on him, then grins wider. With a quick wink at me, she stabs the knife down, right through the O, and she twists and grinds it as he passes out. It’s a killing blow, bleeding heavily, ensuring he will die slowly and painfully. Pulling back, she tosses the knife to the bed and slides from his body to the floor.
I push up from the chair and kick it away, frowning when she drops to her hands and starts to crawl, leaving bloody handprints on the wood as she moves.
She stops, gets to her knees before me, and meets my eyes. With bloody hands, Alena reaches out to tug at my trousers. “What?” My question ends in a groan when she deftly frees my cock and grips my hard length. Her tongue darts out and licks along those pink, bloody lips as she blinks innocently up at me, but she can’t hide the insanity, bloodlust, and desire in those depths.
“I want you,” is all she says before leaning down and swallowing me whole. Her hand strokes down at the same time to squeeze my base, and I widen my stance, reaching down to anchor my hand in her black hair. I’m unable to deny her when I’ve been hard as a rock this entire time and imagining the same thing. She squeezes harder, so hard it hurts, and fuck if I don’t almost explode. My eyes shut and my head falls back as I allow myself a moment of vulnerability and slam into that hot, naughty mouth, forcing my huge length down her throat. She chokes, and when I look down, tears roll from her eyes and down her cheeks.
The sight is too much.
Pulling free, I reach down, grab her, and toss her onto the bloody, messy bed right next to her dying torturer. He’s awake now, gasping for breath as he bleeds out. Knowing he’s watching? That he’s dying? It has me harder than ever, my cock dripping with her saliva and my precum. She bounces when she hits the mattress before pushing up and flinging herself at me. Snarling, I catch her mid-air and throw her back again, and this time, I pin her until she stills before flipping her and dragging her ass into the air.
Grabbing the knife from the bed, I quickly slice through the crotch of her trousers and panties, exposing her glistening pink pussy. Her greedy hole clenches as she pushes back, struggling in my hold to get what she wants.
Dragging the bloody knife across her ass, I dip it down to her pussy, and she freezes. “Keep fighting, and I’ll fuck you with it, understood? Blood and all.”
She moans, pressing back to try and take the knife, and my eyes nearly cross. Holy fuck. I tighten my hold on her hips, keeping her still so I don’t rip her in half before slowly pressing the tip of the bloody knife to her dripping cunt—close enough so she can feel the threat, but far enough away so it won’t hurt her. She shivers in my hold, crying out.