Page 24 of Mayhem and Minnie

Just this once.

According to her own words, she has no one in the world. She has no job, no home, no relatives.

By all intents and purposes, she’s the best candidate.

No one would miss her. In fact, she might thank me because what does she really have to live for?

Nothing.

She has nothing.

I click my tongue against my teeth as I continue to study her—and try to tune out her obnoxious eating sounds.

Perhaps this was fate. She fell into my lap at the perfect time—when I’ve been dying to get my mojo back. She would be my grand return to the game. And it’s because she’s not like the others that this has the opportunity to become my greatest kill.

Yes, Marlowe, you do need a change.

I nod to myself. I do, indeed.

Whereas I’ve previously fed my thirst for death with men who preyed on the innocent, this time I can take it a step further.

My mother would have my head for it if she knew.

But she doesn’t have to know. No one will.

I let my eyes roam over her again.

Despite her diminutive stature and average looks, there’s something about her that’s rather…captivating. I don’t know what it is, but something about her screams stop and look at me.

And by God did I stop.

Hell, I’m still looking.

She raises her gaze and gives me a tremulous smile as she licks her lips.

Now those eyes. They’re her most attractive feature. There’s something almost otherworldly about them. And when she bats her long lashes at me, a low tremor goes down my back.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat? This is so good,” she says, once more with her mouth full.

It takes everything in me not to snap at her and tell her to eat properly.

But before I can voice my refusal, she cuts a piece of pancake, slathers it in sugar and syrup, and pushes the fork against my lips.

My eyes widen.

Hers sparkle with a hopeful glint.

I press my lips together and glare at her.

“It’s so good. Try it,” she continues.

I stare at her with a mutinous expression.

What the hell does she think she’s doing?

I’m not eating anything from this run-down diner, much less that maddeningly sweet thing dripping in sugar.

The sweet scent assails my nostrils, and I find myself twitching.

---