Page 104 of Bake the Town Red

Yesterday, I rushed things. Being tired and wondering if Tyler would come over or not took the fun out of killing the woman who kicks street cats every chance she gets. Bitch.

Today’s different. My chastity belt is on. My ass is sore from last night. Tyler is one-hundred percent mine.

I’m brimming with life. With the need to inflict pain.

Revenge runs hot in my veins.

I’m going to thoroughly enjoy this one. After that, I’ll skin him nice and fast, feed the street dogs, clean his bones, freeze them, and store the meat.

The icing on this evening’s cake, though, that’ll be waiting for me at home.

Tyler promised he’ll be there. He couldn’t wait to see me once and now he’s coming for me again. On his own.

To say I’m the luckiest girl alive is—

Bzz. Bzz.

The phone in the pocket of my dark blue jeans buzzes. By the two quick consecutive vibrations, I know this isn’t a text. This isn’t a phone call.

Someone’s out front. It’s the intercom to the shop.

This shouldn’t surprise me. I closed up less than an hour ago. There’s always this or that customer who just has to have their cupcake fix. TheClosedsign and the locked door aren’t an obstacle when a person has a serious cupcake craving.

They’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I have my game to play. A man waiting for me at home.

Home.

“Ckckckkkkk.” That’s what Ari’s labored breaths sound like, reminding me I’m not done with him.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” I raise the scorching whisk in my hand on my way to the pedo. “Low on patience today, aren’t we?”

Bzz. Bzz.

I kick him, flipping him on his stomach. His nose scrunches on the tarp.

Bzz. Bzz.

Bzz. Bzz.

Most days, I would’ve been flattered by the person’s insistence. Someone’s obsession with my cupcakes is the biggest compliment a baker could ever get.

Today isn’t it. I’m busy, goddammit.

The phone continues to vibrate in my pocket. I keep ignoring it as I pull on one of Ari’s butt cheeks to the side.

“N-n-no.”

“Y-y-yes.”

It takes a bit of maneuvering and a lot of shoving to get the handle of the whisk deep inside his asshole. Lube would’ve helped.

Lube would’ve made the torture less painful for him.

Kinda defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?

He screeches. The pain must be awful.

Which is exactly what I’m aiming for, being the most awful of them all and all that. I push the scorchingtool in and out of him and he foams at the mouth. White froth on my black tarp.

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