Page 62 of Bleed
“It almost looks like a pussy. See what I did here? Perfect.” I say to her, poking my index finger around the edges of the wound, knowing that she can still feel it, because she’s not quite dead yet.
There’s still a little bit of life beating in that chest of hers, for now. Not for long though, no, not for long at all.
Standing up I pop open the front of my slacks and pull out my dick that is surprisingly not even hard. I would have thought I would be from all the beauty of the kill, but nah. She just doesn’t do it for me.
“Guess you’re not any better than your sister.” I laugh as I wrap my fist around my cock and stroke it. “I’ll just have to think of her for minute.” I add, closing my eyes and picturing Dani all tied up and suspended from my bedroom ceiling like a precious gift to be unwrapped. “Ahhh there it is.” I moan as my cock comes to life in my hand, growing at the mere thought of Dani and the kinky shit I do to her.
My hand feels nice, but holy fuck, the inside of Allie’s chest is so much nicer. It’s all hot and gooey and slick as I slide into her, leaning my body over her, blocking the view from anyone who could be walking past on the catwalk, so it looks like she’s simply sucking my dick in the dark.
Her head moves back and forth as I drive into her, moving her whole upper body with the force of my dick ramming in her chest. I can feel the flutter of her heart beating against the head of my cock as I advance more, pressing onto the hard muscle.
“Jesus Christ, I’m fucked up for enjoying this so much.” I moan as I plunge even deeper, feeling the elasticity of the organ snap under the weight of me.
My dick slides through the muscle and into what I’m assuming is one of the chambers of her heart, and that’s the final push for her. She convulses, her eyes rolling back in her head, and she releases a long, scratchy exhale as everything in her stops, including the tapping from inside of her against my cock.
“I’m not adding necrophilia to my list of kinks, sorry.” I say to the corpse in front of me as I pull out, watching the blood drip from the end of my dick. “I may be fucked up, but that’s a little far even for me, honey.”
With a quick tucking of myself back into my trousers, and a tousle of her hair, I leave her there, sitting in the corner of the mirrored catwalk like a piece of litter, because now, that’s what she is. Nothing more than used up trash.
The club is still hopping downstairs, with everyone oblivious to what has just happened, and I slip out onto the dancefloor amongst them all, immediately finding Dani.
“Hey baby. Wanna go home with me? I guarantee a good time.” I say to her, leaning in, letting my lips brush her ear as I speak to her.
“Mmmm, big boy. I was hoping you would ask.” She answers me, kissing me on the cheek then wrapping her hand around my bald head, pulling her in for a hot and searing kiss that makes me see stars. “Is it done?” She asks as she releases me and looks me deeply in the eyes with her bright blue ones that almost glow in the club’s lighting.
“Just as you wished.”
“You’re so good to me. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
~~~
The cab ride home is peaceful, with a comfortable silence shrouding us like the weight of the world has been lifted and we can both breathe easier.
We stumble in the door to my apartment, hands groping, mouths kissing, and hearts beating wildly, both of us needing each other with the residual effects from the adrenaline of the evening.
“Ready for me, Recluse?” I ask her as I bite the crook of her neck hard enough to taste her blood.
“Make me bleed for you, my Reaper.”
Epilogue
The clatter of my shiny new commercial kitchen is loud, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We’re busy with customers waiting over an hour for a table for the third week in a row since we opened the Italian fusion restaurant in the old location of Valentino’s. It’s a nice kick in the teeth to the families that fucked us both.
Using the inheritance money to rebuild the property we destroyed to get it is a nice big fuck you that made both Dani and I happy. We now have our own lives, away from the rule of the mafia, where the only ones who decide our fate is ourselves, and maybe the customers we serve daily.
Standing in the kitchen, looking around, I pat myself on the back, proud of what I’ve done here, and even prouder that I was able to bring back all the staff that I saved the night I burned down their job, including Mark, who is proving to be an excellent sous chef. Antonio trained him well, and I can even see hints of my old friend’s techniques in the way that boy handles a knife. Very clean, very professional, and very precise.
It’s been months since I’ve killed anyone, and I thought I would miss it, but really I don’t. When you marry the love of your life, settle down, and actually have a normal job and a normal life, things like that just seem so…wrong.
We had a beautiful, but small, beach wedding in the Outer Banks, with just Mark and his girlfriend Abigail as witnesses, and of course the little one in Dani’s belly who was present but not able to actually witness her mother and father getting wed. But she was still there.
Her name is Grace, named after the way I see her mother, my love, every day, as a grace from God to a man who was lost. She’s the most beautiful little thing with the same dark chocolate hair and bright blue eyes as Dani, and as of now, the only thing that makes her look like me is her bald little head that I kiss hundreds of times a day.
“Hey Damien!” Mark calls out from the prep line, breaking me from my thoughts. “You gonna help or what?”
“Awww man, I have to work?” I joke with him, tightening the string on my apron and tossing a terry towel over my shoulder.
