Page 40 of Moth to a Flame

I scroll down to the first message. To the first motherfucker to hit on her.

The next person I’ll kill.

TripOnThis:Can’t wait to fuck your ass, babe. You’ll scream for help, and no one will hear you. They won’t, because I’ll drown your mouth in bleach. That’s my rape fantasy, and you’re going to give it to me. You’ll let me damage you beyond repair.

Alarm bells go off in my head, telling me that if I’m not careful, in three, two, one, I’m going to drive up to Tripp Cantrell’s home and murder him. No slow death for this person who lives on the Upper West Side.

He’ll have bleach drenching all his holes.

Kinks are supposed to be practiced safely. That’s one of the clauses from our terms and conditions section. The first clause.

Yet here he is, without so much as a hello, fantasizing about hurting her. Actually hurting her.

I make a mental note to talk to Beverly—who I’m not going to fire—about this. Apparently, we have to go addbleachto the shit that’ll get you banned from Moth to a Flame.

We have to protect our subscribers.

I have to protect her.

Deep breath. A million of those.

Okay. I’m under control of my newly found homicidal cravings. I can think straight.

Tripp is a menace. The forty-year-old with eyes the same light brown color as his hair might hide his cruelty from the world.

Expensive haircut, a megawatt smile.

None of that fools me.

He’s violent. Someone else in his family might be just as violent if not more.

Meaning Tripp could have someone related to him in Brinestone.

“Thank you, Vincent,” I tell my friend, even though he’s long gone.

My gratitude multiplies a couple of minutes later after I send my worm to search go through his personal information.

“Hello there, Bobby Cantrell. Tripp’s brother.” His info is like a neon sign on my screen. My way to get into Lester’s prison. “Thirty-five, as ugly as your older brother. Serving ten years in Brinestone for rape.”

Finally.

Someone to go and fuck Regan’s rapist up for me.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Regan

“I like them younger.”His knife flashes in the moonlight. His teeth do too. Both are equally terrifying. He’s so close. “But there’s no one else and I’m hungry. You’ll have to do.”

I should spin on my heel and run. I have my sneakers on, it’d be easy to slip past the Central Park walking trails and into the wooded area. I could take the shortcut out of here and get home in no time.

I should. Hell, I could even do that.

I won’t make it that far.

By the time I manage to shake off the shock and lift one foot on the ground, he’s on me. Hand in my hair. A blade pinned to my throat. If I take a deep breath, it’ll break the skin. I might bleed out.

Except something tells me this isn’t the worst thing that could happen to me tonight.

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