Page 162 of Petite Fleur

The crazed look in her eye was stunning, and watching blood spatter cover her face, skin, and clothes was magnificent.

A lot of girls seem to be disgusted by other people's blood, but not my girl. She licked her lips when the blood covered her face, and all that wasn't covered in blood was her eyes.

Fuck, I wish I could have recorded that. I would have watched it every single day, like my own personal porn.

Even watching it in person, I had to readjust my cock in my pants.

I can't wait to get her home, get her some rest, and wake her up with my cock in her ass.

But right now, I have work to do.

I have to stage this glorious mess of a crime scene to ensure no hint or a trace of suspicion.

My girl stays on the porch like she was told while I set up, but the paramedics and a few cops barge through the door.

Perfect timing, too; I started my pointless CPR just a moment before they walked in, having heard the sirens coming down the road.

I know he's dead, but I need it to look like I care enough to try.

“Are you Dr. Aldon?” He asks me.

The paramedics rush around the cops and tend to the two dead girls slumped over on the couch, and I focus on the cops and nod. “Yes, I am. I felt a faint heartbeat in this one, but the other two were gone. I've been doing resuscitations since I got off the phone.” I lie.

A paramedic takes over for me, giving me the chance to fake concern and stare at the two on the couch with a look that should convey horror and shock. I don't know; nothing surprises me, but I'm sure it's convincing enough for the cops.

“I have to check on my fiance. Can we step outside?” I ask. That part is true; I didn't tell Maeve I was calling the cops; I needed her to be panicked and stressed to really sell this whole thing.

The cops nod and gladly follow me outside and away from the bloodbath in the living room, and I immediately take a seat beside Maeve and wrap my arm around her. “How are you feeling, ma fleur?” I ask somewhat quietly.

Before my girl gets the chance to answer, a cop interrupts. “Can you tell me what happened here and why you're at an active crime scene?” He asks.

Okay, rude.

He could've let Maeve answer me before opening his mouth, but whatever.

“This is my fiance, Maeve. She used to live here. She moved in with me when we got engaged a few months ago. She left a few things for her roommates to use. I wanted them to keep it; I make enough anyway.” I say with a charming laugh; one of the female officers in the back eats up.

God, they're all so gullible and predictable. It works in my favor; everyone is so easy to manipulate, but it's boring.

The general population fucking bores me.

“We stopped by to pick up the last few things and invite her friends to dinner at our place. We've been preoccupied with moving, so they haven't seen my place yet. I didn't think that's what we would walk into.” I explain vaguely.

I pretend to look horrified by the sight we'd just abandoned and squeeze Maeve into my side. “How are you feeling?” I ask again, hoping this time she's not interrupted.

She turns her head to the side, looking panicked, broken, and confused, and shrugs.

That's expected.

I kiss her temple and push her head to lean on my shoulder while I continue to talk with the cops, pushing them in just the right way that they're almost eating out of the palm of my hand.

I explain my version of events: that Maeve let us in with her key to find a scene straight out of a horror film, one that traumatized my poor, pregnant fiance so severely that she screamed loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

That will explain any noises when they interview people in the complex.

I then explained that I helped my girl onto the porch and away from the blood before rushing inside and attempting to save their lives, only to realize I was too late.

The officers even thank me for trying my hardest to save them, offering me a jacket since my shirt is now covered in blood again from pretending to try to save Sean.

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