Page 171 of Filthy Savage

“What are you sorry about? You didn’t do anything wrong. You know that, right?”

He’s the only one who’s going to be sorry.

“I just feel like it’s my fault. I must’ve given him some kind of wrong impression, but I swear I told him I was married more than once!”

“Hey.” I clasp a palm over the side of her nape. “He won’t get away with this.”

She sucks in a breath. “What are you gonna do?”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Just know he’ll never hurt you again.”

“Please, Fionn. Don’t do anything crazy.”

Has she met me?

“I’m your husband, mo ban dia, and it’s my job to protect you. What he did to you, he’ll never be able to do again.”

“Just promise you won’t hurt him. I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“I won’t hurt him.”

I’m gonna kill him instead.

CHAPTER 42

FIONN

I wantedto make sure his wife wasn’t home. It’d be much harder to kill him with a witness.

It took me two days to learn of his daily patterns. Like how he gets his coffee every evening on the way back home. The way he likes to sit in his driveway to scroll on his cellphone, looking at college coeds before heading inside.

When he gets out of his car, he doesn’t notice me approaching from behind, silently trailing his smaller frame. He’s too busy with his cell to notice a damn thing as he heads up the driveway.

He doesn’t realize I’ve punctured his throat with a needle until it’s too late.

As he clutches his neck, the coffee collapses at his feet, black loafers covered in brown liquid.

“Good evening, Professor.” I hit him with a tight, crooked smirk.

He stares at me through my opaque sunglasses right before he passes out.

Holding on to him, I adjust my hoodie with one hand, looking in every direction for potential witnesses, then throw him in the back seat of my car. The camera by his front door wasalready disabled, and so were all the ones in a mile radius from here. No one will suspect me.

No one will even know what happened to him. I’ll make sure of it.

Slipping into the driver’s seat, I get us on the road and to the farm, dragging him out and tossing him into one of the stables.

“Wake up, asshole.” I slap him hard on the face a few times before he’s finally groaning.

The dose I used was only enough to keep him quiet until we arrived. Now he’s more than welcome to scream as loud as he’d like.

“Who…who are you?” His words are hoarse and his eyes glassy as he blinks up at me.

“My wife told me all about you.” I start undoing my cuffs, dragging each sleeve up to my elbows.

“Who? Who’s your wife?” he stammers. “Please, just let me go.”

He’s visibly shuddering, and it’s a pathetic sight.

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