Page 63 of Ride With Me

“Are you sure you’re not interested in the other kind of fun?” Blue subtly shifted his hips, looking up at Bishop through his lashes.

“Oh, whoa now. I know what you’re doin’, and it ain’t gonna work.” Bishop laughed. “Not that you ain’t a mighty fine little sip of water ’cause you are, but I ain’t droppin’ you any of the D until I know for sure you ain’t gonna stab me in the neck bits again.”

“You could tie me to the bed,” Blue offered. “That way you know I won’t stab you.”

“Ohhh, whee! You kinky lil’ freak.” Bishop laughed again. His cheeks turned a pretty shade of red, and his smile was actually shy. “C’mon. You and I both know you can probably slip your lil’ self right outta whatever I tie you up with and then comes the neck bit stabbing.”

“What if I promise to be a good little boy?” Blue asked with all the sweetness he could muster. “I’m very good at behaving with the right…motivation.”

“Hmmm. Now I’m not a big fancy educated expert or nothin’, but I do believe that sounds like a load of bullshit.”

Blue fought not to scowl.

“Well.” Blue huffed. “What do you suggest we do?”

“First, I’m gonna let go of you.” Bishop leaned back, slowly releasing Blue as he sat back on his knees.

Blue scrambled against the headboard, still quite naked—though he wasn’t thinking about that right now. He was busy trying to peek around the room with his peripheral vision to see if there was anything within reach he could use as a weapon.

“Secondly, we gonna introduce ourselves again, but honest this time.” Bishop smiled. “Hi, my name is Bishop, and I like to kill people. I tend to go for real assholes. I’m talkin’ the biggest dipshits ya ever seen. I enjoy stalkin’ ’em for a few days first, try to make the hunt last a bit, and then I just get ’er done. Field dress ’em if I can, cook up some of the meat, and?—”

“Youeatthem?” Blue cut in.

“Be kinda wasteful if I didn’t.” Bishop scratched his beard. “I usually have a lil’ campfire ready to go, so I can make me some nice stews. Maybe a lil’ cast iron roast if I’m feelin’ fancy. People’s pretty good eatin’.”

Blue was fascinated and equally dubious.

He’d always wondered about what his victims might taste like…

But Bishop had to be full of shit.

“Now.” Bishop held out his hand. “It’s your turn.”

“Sure. Why not.” Blue shook Bishop’s hand and didn’t let go. “My name is Blue Harris, and I love to kill people. The first one was an accident because the sound of his heart beating made me so angry I couldn’t stop stabbing him, but once I started…” He glanced at the lamp. “Well, I just couldn’t stop.”

“Right?” Bishop laughed. “It’s like Pringles! It’s just—oof!”

Blue pulled Bishop’s hand forward and swung his knee up into Bishop’s jaw with a satisfying crack. He turned and scrambled to reach behind the bedside table, grunting as Bishop grabbed his leg.

“Hey now! I thought we just went over this shit!” Bishop complained, pulling Blue into the middle of the bed.

That was fine.

It was exactly what Blue wanted him to do.

Blue rolled onto his back, and he didn’t even bother trying to kick out when Bishop straddled him. Blue had unplugged the cord from the lamp on the bedside table and he slipped it around Bishop’s neck, pulling it tight.

“You lil’ fucker!” Bishop managed to slip a few fingers under the cord to keep it from fully obstructing his airway. His face was already turning bright red, and the tips of his fingers were going purple where the cord was cutting into them. “You really… don’t fuckin’ quit…!”

Blue pulled the cord harder.

Bishop tried flopping down on Blue as he had before, but Blue was able to brace himself and kept his grip. Blue wound the excess cord and plug around his wrist, snarling as he watched Bishop’s eyes water.

Bishop grabbed the lamp attached to the other end of the cord and lifted it up high. “Let go… or I’m gonna… hafta… smash… your pretty lil’ face.”

“Just fuckin’ try it!” Blue sneered.

“Damn, you’re…feisty…”

---