Page 32 of Lesson on Depravity

The only thing he can do now is to be honest, and maybe I’ll show him mercy. I’m a reasonable man. He gives me what I want, and I’ll put him out of his misery.

“Woman scorned,” he slurs, words jumbling together as he chokes on a small amount of blood that had traveled up his throat.

I release his chest, peering down at him with unconcerned disinterest. He had outlived his usefulness, and he has no more information to provide for me. I take the blood drain from his body and reach the other to take the gun with two loaded bullets.

One to the heart and one to the head, it’s to ensure he is beyond the ability of resuscitation. I untie his body and adjust his frame to avoid as much blood on me, and I lower him down on the dangerous flesh-eating chemical.

He’s going to meet his brother, and I consider myself considerate to use the same spot where his brother, Javier’s barrel last stood.

He gets submerged with bubbles popping in the dense liquid. The scent is pungent and mind-swirling as the chemicals eat away the fatty tissues rapidly. The boxcutter, the gloves, the gun, and every piece of evidence on me is melting away. I snap on the lid and seal it with a strong professional-grade sealant.

I stare down at my clothes; the black shirt is unable to show me the blood, but I can feel something on me.

I’ll need to burn this and change with a shower before I touch my little Coco.

Leaving the restricted cellar and the forbidden area, I come up the stairs to the bar. It’s dead silence, and I find the bathroom upstairs to wash away the evidence.

I’m prepared; my clothes are on the sink counter, another pair of shoes along with a tub of the strongest bleach.

After cleaning myself, I throw my clothes in the sink with my shoes and splash bleach until every crack is filled with the damaging chemical. I can’t forget about the bathtub, and even the walls are hit with a strong dose of bleach.

It stinks, but it’s a price to pay for precaution.

I leave the bar with one last goal in mind; I take out Xavier’s phone and dial the number of his damn mistress. Jessabelle answers, her voice is hushed and demanding why he would call her at such an inconvenient time.

She realizes that I’m not Xavier, and the phone goes silent until she speaks again. I don’t answer any of frantic questions, and that makes her more anxious through her tone.

“Le Mière.” It’s the restaurant where she took Coco, and she instantly knows my voice. “Be there.”

I break the phone and toss it with a well-aimed flick of my wrist down the sewage drain. My house comes to view, and I go straight to my bedroom. Coco lays there, innocent and picture-perfect.

I shake her awake, and she groggily peers at me with a whine. “Daddy?”

“We’re going,” I say, pulling her up and letting her plop her head on my shoulder.

She groans. “Where?”

“You’ll find out,” I reply and give her a chaste kiss to the forehead. “Get dressed, princess. Make it quick.”

“It’s not morning,” she murmurs, but she does as she’s told.

I have her out the door and in the car within five minutes. She’s asleep on the passenger seat the moment her ass hits the cushion and the orange lights on the street flash as I press on the gas.

It’s close to five in the morning, and there is some activity on the street, but it’s still ungodly early for most people.

Shaking her small body, she opens her eyes again and looks around. Her lost puppy expression is so adorable that I have to kiss her, muffling her startled squeals. Once she sees the location, she’s even more miffed and bewildered.

“What’re we doing here?” Her voice gets trapped in the car as I leave, and I almost missed her pout.

Cracking the door open, I take her hand and lift out of the car. Her body is moving slowly, still not fully aware or awake at this point. She will soon, and she does just that the moment she sees her “aunt” in the restaurant.

“Why’s Auntie Jessie here?” she asks. “What’s going on? Why are we here?”

“Less talking and more talking, baby.” I put my hand on the small of her back.

The hostess remembers me, and her bodily reflexes force her to take a step back. Coco and I find our seat, and I watch the woman fidget with a flinch before she reels in her expression when she sees Coco.

Her confidence is fake, but Coco doesn’t know that. She thinks I’m just as clueless as Coco but knowing that I was the one to make this meeting happen, Jessabelle tries to gauge how much I know while playing the innocent aunt for Coco.

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