She hangs her head before slowly raising her hauntingly blue eyes to mine. “Did she say anything? Beth, when you killed her, did she have any last words?”
“They all say the same thing:no, please, don’t. Such whiny things you women are. So usually I go for the throat first so I don’t have to listen to them.” Her jaw drops at my candid response. So I point to the camera in the corner. “Turned that off, remember?”
“Why not tase her like you tased me?” Her lip trembles, and I can tell these memories are painful for her to recall.
“There’s no fun in killing an unconscious victim,” I scoff. “There’s this look in their eye the moment they realize they are going to die that is just…remarkable.There’s nothing else like it, and everyone’s look is different too.” My chest swells, realizing how nice it is to share these things with someone.
My kills are always such private affairs and make for terrible dinner conversation for obvious reasons. I spend my days focusing on hownotto get caught, that there’s a certain rush to admitting these things, even if it is to a crazy woman.
Harlow gets this wild look in her eyes as she zones out on my hands clasped in my lap. “After we figured out it was you—thatyouwere the June Harbor Slayer—I thought back to see if there was anything I missed. And do you know what I remembered?”
“Enlighten me.”
“You punched this table.” She slaps the metal, the sound cold and ringing. “And I thought I noticed bruises on your knuckles. But they weren’t bruises, were they? It was ink from the fake tattoo, wasn’t it?”
“That tattoo was always a bitch to wash off.”
She nods as if she can relate and sits back in her chair. “You think that’s enough?”
“Enough what? Enough kills?” The idea is laughable, even now the itch burns in my bloodstream.
“Enough of aconfession.” She sits up straighter, the dazed, wild look in her eyes fading and a sharpness taking its place. She reaches under the table and pulls out a recording device. My lungs stop working as I realize everything I just said is, in fact, a confession.
“Yep, that’ll do,” Quincy says as he enters the room, picking up the device with a smug smile on his face. I jump out of my seat.
“Delete that. Delete that right now. As your superior, I am ordering you to destroy that entire recording,” I sputter, my worst nightmare coming to life.
“Sorry, man. I don’t take orders from you.” He shrugs and pockets the one thing that will destroy me.
“He takes them from his queen.” Harlow stands gracefully. “And this queen is coming for your fucking head.”
1.Last Laugh – From “Promising Young Woman” Soundtrack—FLETCHER | SummerOtoole.com/Playlists
Epilogue
Cash
Ifeellikearogue groom, sneaking moments with his bride before they walk down the aisle. But when I’ve spent the last month not being able to touch my woman, it’s hard to keep my hands off her for even a second. I only got home yesterday, so sue me.
“Cash, everyone is waiting for us,” she says on a laugh as I hike her dress up. It’s that gorgeous black one she wore on our first—and only real—date. I mean, what did she expect wearing that? I slide two fingers down the waistband of her panties, and she arches back into me, palming the prep counter in the Den’s kitchen.
I rub my fingers through her slit, and she moans. “Not to mention we are probably breaking a dozen health code violations.”
“It’s okay, I know the owner.” I laugh and plunge my fingers into her tight, wet pussy. “Fuck, I missed this sweet cunt. Always fucking soaked for me.”
I slowly pump them in and out, curling against her inner wall. “Oh, god.”She’s so sensitive, I’ve already made her come three times today. But we all know I’m a selfish bastard, and I want more.
“Fuck me, daddy,” she mewls, and I race to undo my belt, wanting to slam into her to the hilt.
“Ready to take me again, baby? Ready to take every inch like the dirty little slut you are?” My cock is already rock hard, aching to be back inside her.
“Mhmm,” she moans as she rubs her clit. “Fuck, Cash. Fuck me hard, please. I need it. I needyou.”
I growl and thrust into her eager pussy. “Of course you do, such a desperate little whore.” Her knuckles blanche on the counter as I slide halfway out and then pound back into her.
She falls forward, bending over and shoving her ass back into my hips. It reminds me of the way I said I’d have taken her the first night we met in this very kitchen. I wrap her hair around my fist and yank her head back. My lips graze her hot cheek. “Fight me.”
“What?”