Page 172 of Bake the Town Red

The sounds coming from my throat remind me of a hungry bear in the woods.

It’s nothing remotely close to a human’s.

And it’s okay.

All I care about is the sizzle of the scorching pan as I press it to Johnathan’s stomach. All that matters is how it snaps him back to life. How he opens his mouth to scream.

How he passes out from the pain before he can cry out for help.

My head tilts up to my giggling woman. “Now, we’re dragging him in.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Dahlia

When Tyler and I plotted against Johnathan, both of us had our own set of ideas. Fun ideas. Creative ones.

There were a few things we agreed on right from the start. Johnathan to hurt. Badly.

He wanted to kill us.

And no one touches what’s ours.

Eventually, we reached something better than a compromise. We came up with an epic punishment for our stalker. Something fitting. Something that’d make him cry for his mommy.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. Tries to break through the restraints that bind him to the chair. Winces. Groans. “Everything hurts.”

“Of course, it would, John-John.” I grab him by the hair.

“What?”

Tyler’s at his other side, his arms crossed over his chest. He tilts his head, my man in the black mask. Tells me to go onwithout a single word passing through his gorgeous, hidden lips.

“You have a rope tied around you. Tight around the burn mark from Tyler.” I return my attention to the loser at hand, pushing his head low. “Here, look.”

As if the gruesome sight of the blisters on his stomach and the rope glued to them isn’t enough, Tyler joins the party. He slides his hand around the rope from the back.

And pulls.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Johnathan’s head tries to fling back, forgetting he’s in my grip. His body rattles. His breath stutters. “Fuck, let me go.”

“Baby, he’s being obnoxiously loud.” My pout can be heard from behind the mask. “We have to do something or someone will hear him.”

“Heeeeel—” Johnathan starts.

Tyler doesn’t let him finish, pressing duct tape to Johnathan’s mouth.

We could have done it earlier, but why miss out on the fun of giving him hope just to have it ripped away?

“No one’s coming for you.” I lower my head, tilting it to the side. Through my rabbit’s mask, I watch Johnathan’s eyes widen. Gaping at me in horror. “No one.”

“Would anyone even care?” Tyler strokes my hair. His voice is rough, his touch comforting and possessive. “Would your coworkers notice you gone? Your family? Any of your fake friends?”

At the mention of his previous life—because that’s what it is, and he’s never getting it back—a sense of entitlement fills Johnathan’s eyes.

“Privileged rich boy here is delusional.” I’ve lost interest in Johnathan’s hair. I release my grip, wiping my hands on my apron with the spider pattern. Tyler dons an identical one. A gift from me. “Your money won’t help you. No one will. We aren’t helpless like your other helpless.”

“See, this isn’t our first rodeo.” Tyler’s done wasting time. He stomps on Johnathan’s barefoot, and the contact with my baby’s boot creates a yummycracksound, followed by a muted scream. “Meaning you’re fucked.”

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