Page 120 of Moth to a Flame

Which I’m lacking.

This time, this isn’t Regan who’s responsible for it. Unlike last week.

When Rosemary went out for a delivery a few blocks away, I flipped the sign to their store toClosed. Regan didn’t need me to command her to kneel after I walked behind the counter.

She lowered to the floor as soon as I sat on the stool, as I pretended to be bored and chipped the nail polish she painted on me that morning. Regan sucked me off behind the counter where no one but me could see her lips stretching around my cock.

But I’m only a man. There was only so much pretending I could do before I sliced into one of my nails.

Unfortunately, today, I’m not distracted by a beautiful girl sucking my cock.

Today is Lester’s parole hearing.

I have everything set in the duffel bag in my car. The spiked baseball bat. The serrated knife. Ropes, zip ties, and a sedative I got on the dark web.

An abandoned warehouse I rented under a shell company waits for me about ten miles away from my home. The tarp is laid out all over the cement floor.

I’m ready.

Brimming with violent energy.

With revenge.

I’ll do it by myself in case they release him. For Regan. She won’t be there. She can’t be there. She’ll be locked in our home, just like we planned while I’m out there, destroying him.

“What’s your Viking boyfriend doing over there?” Willie asks.

Over the days I’ve spent in Regan and Rosemary’s store, I’ve come to know and like the older man. Mainly because the first time we met, he was suspicious about me. Because he’s protective of them.

“Yeah, Viking.” The nickname Willie gave me. Regan turns to me, to the stool I’m seated on. She’s beautiful in a simple pair of black leggings and a T-shirt. My problem is that her smile never reaches her eyes. “What are you doing?”

For obvious reasons, I’m not working. What I have been doing all day is sitting here, watching over her. Touching her. Sliding my fingers over her crotch and cupping her over her chastity belt when no one’s around.

More than anything, I’ve been expecting that phone call that’ll set me off on my killing rampage.

The nerves in my body are fired up. My jaw hasn’t stopped ticking since I woke up this morning. I notice how hard I’m gripping the metal ruler in my hand.

And guess what? I don’t give a fuck that it slices into my palm.

Nothing pisses me off worse than being unable to torture Lester until he cries for his mama.

The two people looking at me are kind. One of them is the love of my life. For her, I do my best to act normal. What most of the world perceives as normal, anyway.

Jaw unclenched. Eyes not narrowed. Pulse…Well, I can’t control my fucking pulse. Instead, I let out a long breath.

“Chipping my nail polish.”

“You look like you’re trying to remove everything. All my hard work.” Her voice isn’t as melodic as it usually is. There’s a crack in each word. “Or are you trying to tear the nail itself out?”

This morning, in bed, I begged her to stay home. Rosemary could handle the customers for one day. Just one. I even called her sister. She agreed with me, threatening to lock Regan out if she came over there.

Regan, stubborn little thing, refused to listen to either of us. And I couldn’t say no to her.

“You’re right.” I put the ruler on the counter. Slam it down on it, actually.

Willie frowns. “You sure you’re okay? No work today?”

No, I’m not sure I’m okay. My anger and bloodthirst are hardly contained. I feel every bone in my body. My heart hammers in its cage.

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