Page 72 of Property of Necro
Relaxing back in his chair, Rot rolls his eyes. “One kiss, and you’re turnin’ into a pile of mushy mashed potatoes.”
“You’re a fuckin’ moron.” Coffin kicks the side of Rot’s chair and sends it rolling out of his way as he sidles up to me and notches himself between my legs, something he seems to like doing.
He tips my head back to look up at him. “Hey, Sweet Cheeks.”
“Hey, you.” I blush like a silly schoolgirl as those same butterflies take flight.
“Christ. Will you two go fuck already? All these pheromones are makin’ my dick hard, and I’ve gotbusiness to handle. I don’t have time for distractions.” Rot fixes said appendage in his jeans.
Coffin grunts, drops my chin, and takes a step back, where he tucks both arms across his big, beefy chest.
“What about Necro?” I ask, looking between the two of them.
Rot gets out of his chair and rolls it up to his desk. “What about him? He’s got another solid twenty-four hours left in him.”
“Another whole day?”
That seems like a long time to me. Does it to you? Forty-eight hours of nonstop murder. When will he eat? Sleep? Or rest? That can’t be good for him.
Clicking another round of buttons on his computer, Rot snickers. “Yeah, Red. He’s got some shit to work through.”
“You think we should pay him a visit before he starts in on the next one?” Coffin asks his brother.
“If Necro sees anyone with her.” Rot jerks his chin at me. “With where his head’s at right now, someone’s gonna die.”
Coffin hums as if he agrees. “Should we maybe move this shit along and… You know.” His intense gaze swings my way and lingers a little too long. An eerie chill ripples down my arms.
“We could. But that puts Sola’s safety on the line in more ways than one.”
“We could mask her,” Coffin suggests.
“We’d have to mask her. It’ll be live.”
My safety on the line?
Mask me?
“Hello.” I snap my fingers. “Can you stop talking about me like I’m not here and talk to me? Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“We want to send you in with Necro,” Rot throws out.
“When?”
“During his next session.”
“When he murders someone?”
Rot nods as if he doesn’t think that’s a craptastic idea. “Yeah.”
“Let me get this straight… you want me.” I thump my chest. “To go into an itty, bitty, tiny concrete room with one of those dangerous prisoners and a mentally unhinged Necro, where he plans to kill and dismember the guy while people on the internet pay to watch.”
“That’s what we want. Yes,” Coffin confirms in a blank, no-nonsense way that has smoke billowing out of my ears at how much this doesn’t bother him. Sure. Put me, a woman who doesn’t know much self-defense, into a room with two killers twice my size. It doesn’t take many brain cells to see how that’s a horrible idea.
Hopping off the desk, my bare feet smack the chipped concrete floor. Anger boils in my veins as I march up to get face-to-face with the idiot who put this idea out there to begin with. “Why in the hell would I ever agree to do that?” I poke Rot in the center of his chest, right between his pecs.
Quirking the most aggravatingly attractive smirk I’ve ever seen, Rot pats me on the head like I’m a pet. “Because we asked you to.” The bastard’s voice holds an edge of humor. He wants to chuckle at me. At how I’m acting. I can tell.
I don’t know how he finds this funny. There is nothing funny about it.
