Page 71 of Run Little Killer
Her sock-clad feet pad softly across the beige carpet and she slides down beside me on the couch, pulling a leg up under her. Even though her leggings are black, you can still make out the rusty splotches of dried blood as it flakes against the smooth fabric.
I’ve never really cared for the way motel soap smells. There’s something generic and impersonal about how that scent, always the same. But as Lennon leans her head ontomy chest and the sweet citrus fills my nose, it just smells like mine.
"My mom's dead too," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm sorry, Lennon," I reply.
"The worst part– after she died and all– wasn't even the fact that she was dead, it was that I had to go live with my dad."
My hand freezes, voice razor sharp when I ask, "Did he hurt you little killer?"
"Just emotionally," she scoffs, my tension dissolving with a sigh. "My parents were kinda like hippies when they had me," she continues, shifting to face me. "But they were in a really bad car wreck when my mom was like eight months pregnant, and obviously, I'm fine, and so was my mom for the most part. But my dad had this major brain bleed and it was touch and go. When he woke up a couple weeks later in the hospital, he was different. Fell headfirst into religion and made it his whole personality. They split a year later."
“Aside from his yearly visit,” She laughs a little, shaking her head. "I hardly even knew him, but when I was sixteen, some asshole ran a red-light and t-boned my mom’s car." Pausing, she pushes up and pulls her other leg beneath her. "I know it wasn't her fault, but I was so angry at her for dying and leaving me like that, ya know? She was my best friend and she just up and ghosted me– literally."
"Christ, little killer,” I snort. “And I thoughtmyhumor was dark."
Her shoulders inch up in a shrug, "Coping is coping."
"Yes it is," I agree, my lips spreading in an easy smile for the first time in hours and the weight in my stomach disintegrating as I pull her back against my chest. Thecomforting feeling I get with her pressed up against me eradicates every bit of unease I felt earlier. Lennon doesn't try to add light to my darkness, she just sits in it with me.
We relax back in a comfortable silence, her breathing evening out as she drifts to sleep curled into my side. I zone out, staring at the green numbers on the stove ticking toward 5 a.m.
"She asleep?" Rhett asks quietly, breaking me out of my trance.
"Think so," I murmur, shifting my weight.
"She's awake," Lennon yawns, pushing up to sit and stretching her arms above her head as she glances towards Rhett. "Leave any hot water?"
"Of course, I did," he chuckles, closing the distance between them. Pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he leans down and gives her a kiss. "I took a bubble bath."
Her face screws up, brow furrowing, lips pursing. "Bubble bath?"
"Yup, gettin' old is a bitch, darlin'," he says with a wink. "And snapping necks and disposing of evidence is rough on the joints."
She returns his smile, something warm and fierce passing between them as their eyes meet. But as much as I love to see Rhett in his lover boy era for the first time since Tess died, I'm not missing out on a chance to rail Lennon in the shower.
"C'mon, little killer," I say, hands slapping against my thighs as I push to stand. "We'll have more hot water if we clean each other at the same time"
"You just want an excuse to feel me up," she huffs, folding her arms across her chest as she stands.
"I don't need an excuse to touch what's mine," I say as Ipivot around. Banding an arm around her thighs, I toss her over my shoulder, causing her to let out a little shriek that makes my dick throb.
I carry her into the bathroom and deposit Lennon on the counter, moving towards the tub to twist on the tap. Hot water rushes out of the faucet as I insert the drain stopper.
Reaching behind my head, I pull my sweatshirt off one-handed, then pop the button of my jeans and shoving them down my hips, my cock springing free as I kick my clothes aside.
"Jesus," Lennon scoffs, balling up her clothes and adding them to the burn pile. "Are you just always hard or what?"
I wrap my fingers around my shaft and give it a lazy stroke. "Just when I'm around you."
She rolls her eyes. "That was corny as fuck and you know it."
"Bet you're still wet for me," I say as I step closer and cup her bare pussy. I cock an eyebrow as my fingers skim along her slick folds, proving my point.
Her throat bobs with a hard swallow, eyes glazing over with lust as she reaches forward to cup my balls. "I'malwayswet for you, Nix Hawthorne."
Fuck the shower, I'm ready to collar her and fuck her against the door.
