Page 13 of Under the Bed

I cough. “Sblablendblada.”

“Motherfucker,” he says to himself. “Don’t really need to hear him. Don’t really care.”

Oh, he does care. Throughout the eleven years I’ve been locked up, I’ve barely spoken to anyone. Looks like Dick is just like the rest of them. Dying to know what goes on in my head.

Hasn’t he heard that curiosity killed the cat?

“Everything okay back there?” Oswald’s voice comes from miles away.

Nothing exists but me and my target.

“Mind your business, old man.” Dick’s lips form a fine white line as his hand tightens around the baton. Staring out the window, he considers his options.

He ends up choosing the worst one of them all.

He squats, one hand on his thigh. His lips are near my ear. Our cheeks almost touch. “Speak up, you fucking freak.”

His ear is close to my mouth.

He never sees me coming, but I’m coming anyway. My teeth latch onto his earlobe. Sharp. Cutting. Relentless.

At first, he gasps. He can’t believe that I’m doing this to him.

But I am. I double down on the bite, tasting Dick’s blood on my tongue.

You shouldn’t act so surprised, Dick. Nothing stopped me from biting off two kids’ fingers, either.

“N-no. No.” His brain and vocal cords finally join forces. The urgency is audible. “No, Kaleb. Stop it right now. No!”

“Yes,” I hiss through gritted teeth. Through the blood coating my tongue. “Yes.”

“Dick! What the—What the fuck.” Oswald splits his attention between us and the road, his arm on the back of his seat. “I’m pulling over.”

“No.” The desperation in Dick’s voice is delicious. “Don’t you dare. Keep driving. The closest police station. Get there. For backup. Otherwise, this psycho will break free.”

“I’ll call them, I’ll call—” Oswald’s attempt at being a helpful prick dies a miserable death. His cell slips out of his hand. Crashes on the floor. Slides past us to the end of the minibus. “Fuck! Fuck!”

“The radio,” Dick growls.

“Isn’t working.” The van swerves as Oswald’s panic rises. His head snaps back and forth. Voice shrill. “Been dead for a week! My cheap-ass boss! Damn it!”

“You.” When Dick makes a move to stand, a fresh wave of blood trickles down my shaved chin. “Let go. Let go, or I’ll beat you up. Split your head open.”

“Go ahead.” Talking is a struggle when my teeth are clamped on his ear. “But you’ll be doing it without an ear.”

“Oh God.” Oswald’s calls will forever go unanswered. I mean, He put him in this van withme, didn’t He? “Help us.”

My eyes slide to the writhing, panting Dick’s face. His complexion is pale, chin quivering.

I take advantage of his shock. His confusion.

I part my lips for a split second and lock them on the place where his ear connects to his body.

The taste isawful.

Shiloh, though, she has to taste sweet. As sweet as she looks. Plump lips. Her breasts are bigger and mouthwatering as fuck.

Mine.

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