Page 7 of They Call Him Reaper

Her shoulders stiffen and her forehead creases when she realizes she’s speaking to me. With a start, she falls off the bed in a resounding thud, which sounds painful, but it’s her problem. Dramatically, she slides away until her back hits the wall. She must not understand that if killing her was my goal, she would’ve been dead a long time ago.

Michat has some information in his head that I want. While he thought I was dead, I’d searched his house and left the damning stuff out for the authorities to find. The workings of his part of the operation doesn’t concern me. I need his leader. Most of the things I’ve ascertained via force, but now I’ll use his biggest weakness against him. Pussy.

The black, silky nightie that I picked for her rests atop towels and her toiletry bag. Pointing at them, I give her the order to get her shit together. “Grab that, take a shower, and put on what I provided.”

Her bottom lip trembles, but I don’t have time for her dramatics. “I... I don’t want to be used for sex.”

As I look down at her, my freshly washed hair falls into my eyes and pisses me off. I need to cut it, but after. She flinches when I grab her arm and pull her to her feet. Gripping the back of her neck, I guide her to where I left her stuff then release her. She falls forward, bracing herself on the dresser.

“I don’t like repeating myself.” I’ve already told her I’m not the twisted fuck I have tied up. Forced sex doesn’t appeal to me. “Ten minutes.”

She scurries off to do what the fuck I told her to do the first time. Michat’s time ends today after he falls for temptation. As if being summoned, my bait comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, the scent of her soap riding the steam to perfume the air. I don’t like that I like it, nor am I proud of retrieving her personal grooming items before her apartment became a crime scene, but I needed to get my mics and cameras. It seemed more efficient to grab what she already had. The nightie I chose for her is a little tighter than I expected, her breasts almost spilling out of the deep V, and the mix of silk and lace hugs her body in a way that makes every step seem seductive despite her brown eyes widened with fear.

My bait’s hair is down now, giving her a halo of curls that emphasizes her innocence and incompetence.

“When we get in that room, follow my lead, and act like you like me or die with him.”

Inaya

I followThe Reaper because I have no choice. His hand is on my bicep as he pulls me toward the back of the house. I’m assuming Michat might be back here, but I’m confused about mystate of dress. The little gown barely covers my body, and I’m not wearing anything underneath. The idea that they’re somehow now working together, and I’m being presented as a prize, has acid burning in my stomach.

He releases me to remove the bolt and lock on the door but grabs my hand instead of my arm. Remembering his warning, I relax my hand, but the slide of his fingers between mine makes me nervous for a different reason. The last thing my body should be doing is reacting to a killer’s touch.

The room is dank and creepy. Michat’s labored breaths are hollow in the empty space, and I wrinkle my nose as I see him in the low light. He’s tied to a chair, and his broken hand still dangles. The Reaper pulls me closer until Michat’s only good eye widens in recognition. He strains his blood-soaked body as if he’s trying to lunge at me. His clothes are soiled with what I’m assuming is his own vomit, blood, and sweat.

“You bitch,” he whines, like I’ve broken his heart.

I keep my mouth shut and refrain from pointing out that he kidnapped me not twenty-four hours ago. I think. I’m not sure how long I was out.

The Reaper puts his arm around me and pulls me close to his body. His warmth is surprisingly comforting, and I bury my face in his side because he smells a thousand times better than the room.

“Watch how you speak to my girl, Zagan. What? Didn’t think I knew your street name?”

Zagan? I’ve overheard my dad speaking to someone with that name from time to time.

“Fuck you. I don’t care what names you know. Kill me!”

He clicks his tongue again. It gives me chills since my world has gone black the times I’ve heard him do that.

“Not yet.” His fingers smooth over my shoulder, and he slides down one of the straps of fabric holding my dress in place. Hisdark beard tickles my shoulder as he trails kisses in the wake of his fingers. “You bruised my girl.” He turns until we’re chest to chest and his hand slips under my dress to grab my ass. “I should fuck her in front of you as punishment.”

“No!” Michat “Zagan” Kaminski yells.

Even with all the physical damage, him seeing my ass being kneaded is what tortures him? Vices run deep. There has to be more to it.

“Yes, you want me to show you how she comes since you didn’t get the chance?” He turns us until my back is facing Zagan.

Zagan inhales sharply once I feel air on one of my ass cheeks. That isn’t the worst part. The problem is my captor’s beard tickling my ear and his breath on my neck is arousing. My nipples bead and his accented threat to fuck me heats my body in ways I haven’t felt before. I’m confused by my reaction but know this isn’t the time to analyze it. Remembering his order, I run my hand up his muscled torso and chest as I would my lover. My fingers brush along his bearded jaw, because I doubt I’ll get a chance to touch someone this dangerous again. His intense brown eyes flicker to mine and his jaw flexes under my fingers just before he moves my hands and spins me to face Michat.

The jostling makes my left breast pop out since he never righted my strap. Zagan grunts as his eye studies my exposed nipple like an addict. The Reaper reaches down and grips the hem of my dress, and the silk caresses me as it slides up my thigh.

“Want to see what I feasted on while you bled alone?” Flicking his wrist, he flashes Zagan with my nudity underneath. He rocks in his chair like he needs to feel me. “I’ll let you get a sample of what you missed if you tell me what I want to know.”

“Really?” he asks like an appeased child.

“Yeah. I sold her to you only; it fits that I allow you to get your money’s worth.”

He sold me!Zagan licks his busted lips like he’s been offered gold. His eyes shine with purpose, and I think I get it. It’s not necessarily me, but he’s being offered something he’s been denied. Men like him don’t understand denial.

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