Page 107 of Deceit

William narrows his eyes. “That fat fuck? Dude died.”

“How?”

My brows furrow; she knows how. Or she’s trying to add some color to Bubba’s world and associates.

“Got burnt up. He’s been replaced. Listen, I—“ Em thrusts the gun deeper into his flesh and pulls out her phone, propping her elbow on his shoulder, and begins tapping away at it.

“I don’t believe you. Location or something else that’ll help me—pick,now.” She rolls her hips, letting a moan illicit off her lips, and I can’t tell if it’s fake or fucking real, but my cock just twitched to it. “Or…don’t. You’re extremely handsome, William. Too bad I wasn’t here for other reasons. Maybe I can record it.”

My hands fist at my sides. This reverse bullshit has gone on long enough, and I want my fuckingwifeoff this ass clown now.

“She’s a necrophiliac,” Blue claims out loud for Will’s ears. “And she only gives her victims one chance.”

“But you don’t have to,” Emmy surmises, laying an arm on his shoulder. “I can make it quick for you. You won’t feel a thing.”

Motherfucking God.

I’veneverheard Emmy’s voice so seductive and innocent all at the same time.

I love it and hate it.

I’m torn between letting her have her own damn space and being someone that can hand her own shit, just like I would anyone on B723, or staking my claim now.

She’s suddenly got me all sorts of fucked up. I can sometimes rear back and place my shit aside but then, in times like this, I’m brimming over the edge of allowing all my emotions and actions to spill.

“I’m telling you the truth,” William claims, his brows knit as though he’s in pain or about to take a shit. “He’s dead.”

“And that’s it?”

“Yeah, yeah…I don’t give a shit about him.” He sucks in a weak breath through his teeth. “Fu—I can’t…breathe.”

“I figured I’d leave you here until the Feds come for you. You see, I went through your laptop, found some emails about a dozen or so twelve-year-olds that you bought. I mean, we can predict what you’re trying to do with them, can’t we, Romeo?”

He rocks his head back and forth. “No…it’s not…like that.”

Emmy chuckles and swings one leg off his lap to stand. “I guess the naked pictures of them were just sent by mistake then.”

“That’s…” His face is becoming paler by the second. “What’s happening?”

Emmy pockets her cell and glances down at her watch, appearing not to give a shit at how he’s beginning to turn as white as a ghost. “Oh, I turned your pacemaker down. It’s barely operational. Unfortunately, I had to sit in your lap to link it up to my phone.” She shudders outwardly. “Disgusting.”

“You…fucking—“

“Call her a bitch, and I’ll fucking kill you right now,” I seize out, doing the same thing to her bicep and hauling her from the room when I tell Blue. “Watchhim.”

Emmy doesn’t stop me, allowing me to get us to the middle of the living space, where the party was in full swing hours before.

When I release her, I find her looking at me like she didn’t just do everything I watched.

“I went through all the files on his laptop,” she states, extending her arm to give me back my gun. “No emails, phone calls, or anything about Bubba. He’s not searching for his killer and—“ My chest presses into hers, ignoring the gun and whatever else she’s going to say.

“Are you bipolar, or do you live two separate lives when I’m not around? Because what I saw in there wasn’t the Emmy Lou Rhodes I know.”

“And how many missions have me and you worked on alone since…?”

Since getting married.

Zero.

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