Page 49 of Run Little Killer
He moves a hand between my legs, roughly cupping my pussy. A needy little mewl slips from my throat. I lean back against his chest as he adds, "And tonight, we're going to show you just what it means to be ours."
Heat prickles beneath my skin, his words laced with temptation and promise as I roll my hips. The hard outline of his dick presses against my ass. Rhett steps closer, tattooed fingers pinching my chin and tilting it up. "You look so fuckin' sexy when you're chasing his touch, darlin’."
My stomach swoops and then suddenly plummets as the blonde bitch steps in front of me, two bottles of beer in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. "Thought you might at least want some water," she says, extending the bottle towards me.
"Thanks," I say, shifting forward on Nix's lap to take it.
The guys grab their beers, and she smiles curtly as she rushes away. Lifting the bottle to his lips, Nix takes a longpull, fingers drumming against my spandex clad pussy. "Now, where were we?"
A sharp whistle cuts through the air, all the chatter dying off and the volume of the music lowering as Mav walks in.
"Just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who could make it out tonight for a little impromptu Blaze Night," he says, fists pounding against the tables in the room as he continues. "You know the rules, night doesn't end til the fire’s out. So keep your hands clean, wrap your shit, and remember– empty bottles, not clips."
Whoops and hollers ring out, Nix stomping his boot against the ground, his leg rattling beneath me.
"Ya heard him," a guy with slicked-back black hair shouts. "Let's get this lit!"
The cheers continue as everyone starts to move towards a side door and I slide off of Nix's lap.
"C'mon darlin'," Rhett says, tucking me into his side as we fall into the mix and file out the door.
We step out into the night, gravel crunching underfoot and a chill rolling up my spine as I snuggle closer to Rhett, his spicy scent mixing with that of rich leather. Busted pallets, crates, and limbs are piled in the middle of the lot as we slow to a halt. We're standing around it when Mav cuts through, patting a hand on Nix's shoulder as he passes. "Let's go, Hawthorne."
"Let's go little killer," Nix says excitedly, grabbing my hand and tugging me forward. Bodies shift as we edge our way through to the front.
Standing just inches from the pile, I notice an oil drum at the center, Rhett's earlier words slamming into me as my brain finally connects the dots. I swivel my head towards the crowd, locking eyes with him as he winks. Iturn back to Nix as he slides a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, placing one between his lips and pulling out his Zippo. It flicks open with a metallic click and he drags his thumb over the wheel, the flint catching and a spark turning to flame as it singes the tip. The cherry burns brightly in the dusk of the evening as he pinches it between his fingers, exhaling to the side before passing it to me.
My forehead creases as I look at him in question. He lifts a brow, corners of his mouth twitching up as he encourages me to take it. I pluck it from his fingertips and raise it to my lips, the nicotine sharp and bitter as it scrapes down my throat on an inhale. Wisps of smoke curl upward in spirals as he tips his head to the side and says, "Throw it in."
I flick it towards the pyre, ashes scattering as the cherry glows and bounces before landing on the wads of paper surrounding the drum. Within seconds, fire blazes, flames devouring the kindling as it grows taller.
"Thatta girl," Nix praises, pulling my back flush against his chest. The music kicks up, people moving about and we rock back and forth, the lights glowing and bass thrumming from large speakers placed around the lot.
The fire crackles, heat radiating off it as I watch with twisted fascination at the way the flames stretch higher and higher, flickering against the dark sky. The oil drum is now fully charred, slowly disintegrating in the center along with its contents. A body. Another death on my hands. Well,Rhett’shands, technically, but my palms are equally covered in blood.
Yesterday, when I looked down and saw the crimson covered blade and my stained fingers, I lost it. Static buzzed between my ears, thoughts quick and jumbled as my mind desperately tried to sort the good from the bad. My anxietyflared, threatening to suffocate me as the inevitable spiral descended.
For a moment I saw Chad’s face again, blood spurting from his neck, splashing against the white tile and spraying my clothes and skin. Then Chad faded into Micheal, his blood oozing out and pooling beneath his corpse seemingly in slow motion. So different from the way Chad bled, but no less macabre.
I wonder how Shawn will bleed?
I swear the meds they gave me at Briarwood in their valiant efforts to ‘fix’ me rewired my brain somehow. The cortex responsible for remorse has seemingly been disabled, because I know Ishouldfeel guilty for my actions. But no matter how hard I search for that emotion, I come up empty.
Guilt?Don’t know the bitch. I’m done apologizing for doing what it takes to keep myself whole.
Staring into the bright and destructive watercolor flames, I continue to zone out until the gritty pulse of Chrome Cowboy by Scrim starts to play. The beat is dirty and hypnotic, weaving its way under my skin and settling in my chest. It’s raw and relaxing, pulling me back from the cliff’s edge and freeing my mind as I start to sway.
Nix’s hands land on my body, sliding down my waist and settling on my hips. He tightens his grip, fingers digging in as he pulls me back, grinding the hard outline of his dick against my ass. I snake a hand up, cupping the back of his neck as our bodies fall in sync. His other hand teases at my waistband, thumb dipping beneath the fabric when someone suddenly knocks into us and sends us stumbling sideways.
“Hey!” Nix barks.
“Sorry man,” a man with a shaved head says.
“Get lost, Marty,” Nix spits, dark brows slamming down.
Marty lifts his beer and palm in surrender as he backs away, disappearing into the crowd. “Cockblock,” Nix mumbles, banding an arm across my stomach and nipping at my neck. “Now, where were we?”
“Nix,” I giggle as his stubble tickles my skin.
