Page 52 of Sugar and Skulls

Good news is I’m about to rid the world of one sexual predator.

Bad news is there’s more than one.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Raffe

???

Dirk and I stare at each other as we wait in the dark. She climbed in through a back window. We followed. She spent a fair amount of time upstairs but now she is in the dining room. It’s quiet. She’s waiting. For what? Or should I ask for who?

I knew something was bothering her. She put on a good face for Bill and he bought it hook, line and sinker. That’s something Dirk is going to need to address with her. She can’t be doing that. We can’t let her begin her relationship with father by manipulating him. She needs to be honest with all of us. Most importantly with herself.

Keys jingle in the lock, the only other sound a soft click, the sound of a safety being turned off. God dammit, Jesse, what is going on? When the light flips on in the dining room, a man gasps loudly and begins to chant a prayer under his breath.

“Good idea,” Jesse says, smoothly. “But, I hate to tell you, prayers don’t work. Bad things happen no matter how much you pray for them not to.”

“Who are you? What are you doing in my home?” The man says, his voice rising along with his adrenaline. He’s scared. Why is scared of Jesse?

I take a peek around the corner. Holy fucking Christ.

Okay, I see why he’s scared.

I nod my head for Dirk to take a look. He does and his jaw flexes when he takes her in. These two are going to kill me. Could there be two more sexy people?

“You don’t remember me? I thought I meant more to you than that,” she fake pouts, the skeleton on her face turning sad.

The man studies her. “I’m sorry, with the makeup…”

His voice trails off as she shoves a photo in his face. “Jesse?” he chokes on her name.

She shoves the photo in her back pocket. “Have a seat, Gabriel. I can call you Gabriel, can’t I?”

He nods and sits down in the chair she has placed a few feet away from the table. He glances at whatever is laid out on the table and pales. He sways to the side as she perches herself on the edge of the table, so she is staring down at him.

“How have you been?” she asks casually.

He grimaces and drops his head. “What do you want?”

She sighs and places her foot between his legs. His head bops up. Slowly she slides her foot until the heal on her boot is digging into his junk. He tries to squirm away, but she digs in deeper.

“Let’s just say I left feeling a little unsatisfied last time.” She eases her boot back slightly, letting the threat hover over his dick.

“Jesse, you don’t have to do this. Let’s talk,” he scrambles to reason with her.

She pours wine down her throat as he watches then she leans forward, tipping his chin with her gun, the other hand holds the bottle over his face. “If I remember right you like to celebrate with wine. Go on, open up,” she seethes, her voice doesn’t even sound like it belongs to her.

She pours from the bottle into his mouth. He chokes and sputters before she pulls it away, leaving the white on his collar stained red.

“I’m sorry,” he begins to plead.

“How are your legs? The fire didn’t mess you up too bad I see.”

“Jesse, please.”

“I found your photo of Katie.”

Now he truly looks confused. “I don’t know any Katie. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

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