Page 17 of Darkest Deeds

Niko

She should’ve slithis throat when she had the chance.

It’s the only thought rolling around in my head as I lean against the Audi at three a.m., watching the blond asshole try to unlock the door to his house. I’m not surprised it takes him three times. If he has as much trouble aiming his dick as he does a key, it’s no wonder he has to force women to get laid.

Yeah, I watched them in the parking lot, so what? I didn’t like the way he talked to her and thought he needed a reminder on how to mind his fucking manners. She told him no, and he didn’t listen. Case closed.

I know what I am, and it sure as hell isn’t anyone’s hero. My moral compass doesn’t point anywhere but straight to hell.

His mistake was trying to touch what’s always been mine.

I chuckle as he finally stumbles inside and slams the door behind him, not bothering to turn on the lights. He’s making it so easy I’m almost insulted. A little challenge would be nice, but I guess that’s asking too much from a guy who fell out of a cab and puked on his own shoes.

The first thing I notice when I approach the door is that the keys are still hanging outside the lock. Did I say almost insulted? Scratch that. I’m offended as hell now. So offended that if I were getting paid for this, I’d return the money and call it a gift to society.

Once inside, I slip off my jacket and dig into the inside pocket before draping it across the dining room table. Some people’s blood is worth soiling quality leather, and some isn’t.

Guess where Zachary Harrington Winthrop’s blood ranks.

It’s dark, but I have no problem making my way down the hallway toward the bathroom. When I get there, I find him taking a piss with his hands braced against the wall.

“Now that’s a shame.”

He lets out a yelp, spinning around so fast his legs get tangled around the toilet and he falls onto seat, his limp dick flopping onto his thigh. “Wh-who the hell are you?”

“Zach,” I say, ignoring him, “you don’t listen too well, do you?”

“How’d you get in my house?”

“Answer my question first.”

He lifts his chin and meets my eye as if sitting bare assed on a toilet staring up at an intruder is a minor annoyance. “I’ve never spoken to you in my life.”

I fight a smirk. The booze has inflated his balls. Good. This night may not be such a waste after all. “Well, you’ve got me there.”

“Then what—”

“You’ve never spoken to me, but I’ve said plenty to you. Maybe not verbally, but I know you saw me tonight, Zach. You felt my eyes on you, because you looked right at me after you tried to grab her ass. Then to make it worse, you insulted her.”

Wrinkles line his forehead. “You mean Ruby?”

I nod.

“Wait, you’re pissed off about a stupid stripper who’s probably blown every guy in that place?”

My lip twitches, and I suck a breath through my teeth. “I thought I made myself clear at the time, but like I said, it seems you don’t listen too well.”

“Man, I didn’t do shit—”

I like playing with my prey as much as the next guy, but my patience has limits. Shifting my thumb on the handle of my knife, I press the button and release the blade. Zachary’s blood-shot eyes bug out of his head, and his hands shoot out. However, instead of grabbing for my wrist like a sane person, they slam down to cover his dick.

Leaving the jewels to fend for themselves.

Well, I did say the booze gave him inflated balls. I guess he thinks it makes them invincible too. Who am I to disappoint?

Before he can open his mouth again, I jam the blade through his right nut until the tip breaks through the other side, pinning him to the seat. There’s blood everywhere, oozing both onto the floor and steadily dripping into the bowl. The piercing screams and garbled curses should worry me, but I’ll be gone before anyone can do anything about it.

“‘If you can fuck half as well as you can throw a kick, I’m willing to hold your ass down until I break that wild streak you got.’ Sound familiar?”

---