Page 54 of Wicked Riddles & Bitter Heartbeats

“That was so much fun, Atty.”

“Well, he has one more.”

She moves around me, to get a better angle at his other eye. With one knee on the couch, she leans over him… and he passes out. His body goes limp.

“Aww,” she whines. “What a pussy.” Still, she goes in and scoops that eye out like she’s done it a hundred times before and drops it onto the floor near where the other one landed. Only then do I let go of the belt.

I go into the kitchen, find a knife, and stab him a handful of times around the area of his chest that my boot was pressing against. Hopefully it’ll cut and bruise enough of him that they won’t be able to tell my foot was there. It would be difficult tomake a connection to me in the first place, but I don’t need them to have anything if they were to do that. So with knife wounds to the chest and two eyes scooped out, I’m pretty sure he’s dead.

But there’s one last thing I need to do before I leave. With the tip of the knife, right over Neil’s heart, I carve a heart. And inside, I sign the letter A.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Atticus

After the second murder, on Aberdeen St., I find Lilah lying on a bed in one of the bedrooms.

“It’s a waterbed!” she says when I step into the room, wiggling her body. The bed rolls and she smiles up at the ceiling. “Let’s fuck on it!”

I frown, looking around at the room. Stains on the carpet. Peeling wallpaper. Smoke stains on the ceiling. Soiled clothes everywhere.

“How about I buy one for the house and we fuck on that? This one is a bit revolting.”

She leans up on her elbows, pouting.

“But seeing you kill gets me so hot.” She bites her bottom lip, gaze going to my crotch. It makes my dick twitch.

“Kitten, I’m afraid if we spend any more time in this house we will both end up with Tetanus and some sort of lung infection from inhaling whatever toxicity is in the air. Please, let’s leave.”

“Fine,” she whines, getting out of the bed. I smack her ass as she walks by. She cries out, glaring at me over her shoulder.

“That’s for talking back,” I say with a pointed look.

She grins but keeps on going.

Pedro Santos was sitting at his kitchen table eating leftover pizza when we walked into the house. I figured the kitchen was as good a place as any, so that’s where I killed him.

Lilah wanted to give scooping eyeballs out another go, and so I let her. Only this time, I had her do it after I killed him, this way she could practice without resistance. If she finds the best way to go in, it’ll be easier to do when someone is fighting.

Like the other guy, and most of my kills, I use a knife found in the kitchen. Unfortunately for Pedro, all of his knives were dull. The first one I stabbed him with broke off inside him, and I had to find a second. It made carving the heart into his chest difficult, but I got it done.

Lilah’s first eyeball removal was her testing which side was best to scoop from. She went in confident on the second eye and it popped out right away. She was so proud.

As I said I would, I order a waterbed the moment we’re home. Though we’ll never get to use it. They’re expensive as hell and hard to find. No where around here makes them anymore since they aren’t in high demand. The upkeep is ridiculous. But if my kitten wants it, she will have it. Though, it’ll end up being something we never use.

We go into the bathroom that’s off the kitchen, the one that has a second door that leads to the back patio. We strip our clothes and jump into the shower, making sure to scrub ourselves good. Once we’re out, we dry off and head upstairs to put on fresh clothes. Then we get started on our clean uproutine. Lilah takes the clothes and the towels outside to the fire pit to burn, while I clean the bathroom and each room we walked through. Once that’s done, I go to the car and clean that next. It seems Lilah already took the plastic bag full of the clothes we wore at the scene—those get burned too. None of this is a guarantee, but it’s the best we can do. After each murder is finished, I call Rex to make sure he can pop in and do a sweep.

“Hey,” Lilah says, finding me in the library when she’s done. I smile up at her, but frown when I see her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just a headache,” she says, crawling onto my lap and curling up like a cat. “I sometimes get bad migraines, and I think one is coming on.”

I kiss her forehead. “What can I do to help?”

“Bring me to bed? Cold towel. Dark.” She buries her face against my neck, and I stand, carrying her bridal style up to our bedroom. Once she’s tucked into bed, I close the blinds and go to the bathroom to wet a face cloth with cold water.

“Where do you want this, Kitten?” I ask softly. She points to her forehead, not opening her eyes. I drape it where she asked, then kiss her lips. “I’ll be downstairs. I’ll check on you soon.”

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