Page 15 of Perilous

Now…

Well, fuck, now she’s mine to keep.

* * *

I siton a milk crate and smoke a joint. Myprojectis still on the floor, not moving. I know how to kill people. I’m really good at it. I also know how to knock people out without killing them. Then again, maybe I’ve gone too far here.

The adrenaline pumping, my thoughts driving me fucking crazy, maybe I went too far with this one and she’s dead. If she is dead, then I’ve just opened a whole new can of worms to deal with.

I’ll have to report this to Luc and he’ll report it to the rest of theLegion. Just like the fucking mess Tyrant and I got into. Which led to me doing what I had to do…

I drop the joint to the hard floor and step on it. I walk over to myprojectand crouch down. Using the tips of my right fingers, I brush the hair out of her face. My eyes travel down to her chest.

Yeah, I tore her button-down shirt off to wrap it around her mouth to keep her quiet. In exchange, I now have a great look at her tits gently tucked into a well-fitted bra and a black spaghetti strap top over it. I feel my cock thumping inside my jeans.

First things first. I need to know if myprojectis dead or not. I could stick my fingers against the side of her neck and check for a pulse, but what’s the fun in that when she’s got a chest for me to touch?

I place my hand against the left side of her chest. The tip of my thumb touching the edge of her bra. When I feel the thumping of her heart, I do feel somewhat relieved. Then again, it would be much better if she were dead. The dead don’t speak and the dead don’t have to be coaxed into forgetting.

Thisprojectis just that. A fuckingPROJECT.

I have to make a decision on what to do with her. Kill her. Let her sit here to rot and die alone, slowly. That would be fucking torture though.

Then again, what the fuck do I care? I should stand up and walk away right now. Or I could take her to Luc. Let theLegionhandle her. I’m in an interesting spot.

Myproject’s eyes suddenly pop open, scaring the living hell out of me. She grabs for my arm. At first I think she’s taking offense to my hand being too close to grabbing her nice looking tit.

“Where am I? Did he attack you too? We have to get out of here right now!”

She scrambles to climb to her feet, grabbing at her head, stumbling like she’s drunk.

“We have to get out of here!”

There’s no secret door or anything like that here. I stand and marvel as she walks toward the door. She has no idea who I am. She has no idea I’m the one who attacked her and brought her here.

“Come on, man!”

She turns her head and looks at me. All I do is take one step toward her and she freezes.

“No,” she whispers. “No… no…”

I keep walking toward her. She lunges for the door and grabs the handle. I can practically see the relief bubbling from her. Right up until she applies pressure on the door handle and realizes it’s locked.

I’ve got the key in my pocket.

She spins around and throws herself against the door.

“Please!” she screams at me and winces in pain from her head.

“Fuck you! Please!”

I kill all distance between us and place my hands on the door, one on each side of her head.

“I’ll kick you in the fucking balls,” she warns me. “Don’t think I won’t. I’ll fight back. I’ll attack. I’ll scream.”

“I haven’t said one word to you, doll,” I whisper in a low voice.

“Doll…”

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