Page 20 of Haunting Me

The sound of him grinding his teeth makes me cringe.

“I don’t want to upset you. But we need to leave. Now.” Wes’s parents had already headed back to their hotel for the night. After a quick goodbye to everyone remaining, we head to the car. Well, more like sprint to the car.

Wes speeds out of the alley. I'm trying hard to figure out the issue when I see the man up ahead on the sidewalk.

It’s my father.

Walking out of a bar at 10 p.m., clearly hammered. I look over at my husband and his eyes narrow at my father.

“Do you still want him dead, Ma Petite Mort?”

I nod my head yes.

He grabs his mask from the glove box, the sound of the latch clicking echoing in the car. In his other hand, a syringe full of clear liquid is at the ready. He pulls over, pops the trunk, and exits the car. With his mask on, he sneaks up behind my father, shoving the needle deep into his neck.

Wes drags my father’s body to the car, tossing him in the trunk with a thud. Situating himself back in the driver’s seat, he starts the car back up and halls ass back to the warehouse. The gate to the warehouse swings open and the car’s tires kick up gravel. Wes kills the engine and hops out. “Do you need me to help you, or can you manage without me?”

I wave him off, and he heads to the trunk to pull out my father’s body. I watch my husband hoist my father’s limp body over his shoulder and carry him into the warehouse. Exiting the car, I make my way into the building. Wes is across the open floor, tying my father to a chair.

The area of the warehouse he is in I have never explored. A galvanized metal tub is present in the tiled space. Wes finishes tying my father’s legs down and looks over at me. “Now is your chance, Ma Petite Mort. Make him suffer for the pain he caused you.”

I make my way over to my father. I stare at him, breathing the surrounding oxygen. He has no right to be breathing.

My mind is teeming with ideas about how to end his life. I share some ideas, Wes jumps into action to set them up. He fills the galvanized tub with murky water from the bay. Once we are ready, Wes plunges a syringe into my father’s neck and his eyes shoot open.

“What the fuck, man!” He shouts, thrashing about in the chair. My father scans the room, and his eyes fall on me. I am still in my wedding dress. I know the black gothic dress is making him fearful. He squints to get a better look at me. “La- Layne?” he slurs.

Wes comes into view, in his black dress shirt, with his sleeves rolled up. “Mr. Murphy, I can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he spits at him, “but my wife here decided that you weren’t worth the air you're breathing in. So the boss says you gotta go.” He chuckles, getting in his face. “You know what they say. Happy wife, happy life.”

My sassy ass husband, making me laugh as we get ready to end this waste of a man’s life. I fucking love him.

Wes drags the chair over to the tub.

I stand on the other side of the chair. “Sean Murphy,” speaking directly to him now, “this is for the little girl you drowned that day. The one who is now healing from being emotionally fucked up. The one the doctors brought back to life is not the little girl from before.” Wes and I grab ahold of him and shove his head under the water. He thrashes about and tries to surface.

A few minutes later, he slumps forward. Wes checks his pulse and confirms he is dead. He counts down, and when 3 minutes is up, he pulls him out of the water. Wes lays him flat on the floor and begins to resuscitate him. I stand over him, holding one of my favorite blades.

My father sputters, retching the water from his lungs. “Now you know what it feels like to drown. How it feels to die. Now you will know what it feels like to bleed out. I will not mourn you, Sean Murphy. I’ll feed your corpse to the sharks and watch them feast on you.”

He whispers something that I can’t hear, so I inch closer to his face. “What’s that?” I sneer.

“Go fuck yourself,” coughing water in my face. My blade slices across his throat. His blood spurts out, covering his shirt, the floor, and my hands. I lean back and laugh. It’s more of a howl, finally feeling free of the man who had been haunting me.

Wes pulls me to my feet and spins me around. He takes his blade out and slices up the back of my corset, peeling it off of me. The fabric of the dress rips as he tugs it down. I stand there, completely naked. “Fuck, baby. No panties?” He sucks his lower lip between his teeth.

“I wanted nothing in the way, in case you wanted to fuck me after the ceremony.” My hands run up his thigh, stopping at his cock, hard and waiting to be inside me. The buttons of his shirt scatter across the tiled floor as I rip it open. His pants and boxer hit the floor with a satisfying thud. “Lie down, baby.” I motion to the floor next to my father’s still-warm but dead body.

He does as he is told, pulling his shoes and pants off. Not bothered one bit by the dead body or the blood he is lying in. I climb on top of him, positioning his cock at my entrance. The gasp that leaves his lips as I slide down to the hilt of him is such a turn-on. He keeps his hands on my hip as I ride him.

“What we are doing is sick and fucked up Wes,” I moan as I roll my hips into him, “but nobody else will ever touch me like you do. So if this is what we have…” I bring my blade to his jugular.

“Oh, fuck,” Wes whispers in a moan.

“Then never stop.” With the blade still at his throat, I lean into him and chase my orgasm, letting it take over. We come together. A roar echoes through the warehouse as Wes empties himself inside me.

After cleaning up and throwing on some old clothes, Wes walks me through his step-by-step process of disposing of bodies. He never ceases to amaze me. I can’t wait to spend forever with this man.

We take the ground-up remains of my father and toss them into the bay. It doesn’t take long for some sharks to appear, consuming him as their meal. “So long Motherfucker.” I turn back to Wes. “What now?”

---