Page 7 of Born Sinner
“Did you touch her?” I tap the exposed blade against my lower lip as I saunter deeper into the room.
I find my answer in Troy’s silence.
I press the blade into my lip until I can feel something hot and wet running down my chin. “Did you taste her?”
Troy looks like he’s about to shit himself. “Just a kiss, man. I swear. I-I didn’t know she was your girl.”
Damn right, she is.“Didn’t your mom ever teach you it’s wrong to steal?”
“My mom’s best friend is a vodka bottle. She didn’t teach menothing!”
“Poor little rich boys of the world unite.” I swipe a hand across my jaw and it comes away red. “Get on your knees.”
A tic jumps to life in his cheek. “Wh-what?”
My foot connects with his thigh, and a dark satisfaction fills my soul as he goes crashing to the floor. Crouching over him, I take his jaw between my fingers as he cringes away. “You fucked up, Troy Davis.” With my other hand, I press the blade against the nervous glide of his throat. “You just violated my property, and that shit has consequences… Lift up your shirt.”
He freezes. “No way.”
“I said, lift up yourfuckingshirt.”
A trembling hand shoots out and wrenches up his white Moncler Polo. “What the hell, Colton?” he says again weakly. “You a queer now?”
“No, Troy. I’m your end game.” Changing my mind at the last second, I drop the knife from his throat and drive it down deep into the web of muscles above his kneecap, twisting as I go, severing a couple of tendons and all his hopes and dreams. Never mind a season on the bench; I’ve just gone and annihilated a promising football career at the age of twenty.
I feel nothing about it, though. No guilt. No regret.
Sweet. Fuck. All.
I told you I was ready for the big league, senator.
Troy screams, and I slam my hand across his mouth. “Inhale the pain,” I order, bringing my face close to his. “Inhale it until you feel like your lungs are gonna explode, because that’s only a fraction of what ‘María’ would have felt tomorrow morning if I hadn’t shown up in time.” Flashing him a grin, I pull the knife out, eliciting another muffled scream. “If I were you, Troy Davis, I’d get to a hospital in the next twenty minutes. You’ve had yourself a bad accident... Maybe you shouldn’t drink so much next time. You feeling me?”
He nods, eyes glassy with pain. Compliant as a child.
Maybe he knows the truth about me. Maybe he’s heard about the senator’s reputation.
Removing my hand, I wipe his spit down the front of his polo shirt.
“Go… Get out of here.”
“I-I can’t move.” He starts crying, snot trailing down his face like a well-fucked pussy.
Are they tears of relief or pain?Maybe it’s the realization he’ll never score a touchdown again. Either way, I’ll doubt he’ll be slipping a roofie into another chick’s drink this side of never.
“Then you crawl, asshole. I’ll count to ten, and then I’m introducing my knife to your other knee.”
“Shit! Fuck! Okay!” He starts dragging his bleeding body toward the door, but my focus has already switched to her.
It’sallabout her.
I can’t stop staring.
Turns out, I was missing the real masterpiece underneath her clothes.
I want her.
I fucking want her.
