Page 18 of Stealing His Cupcake
Opening my eyes and staring into the barrel of a gun, the answer is obvious. Dead. It makes me dead.
The man’s eyes are green, I register that for whatever reason. I couldn’t see it before in the shadows of the living room, but now the light from the window hits them just right and they’re green, and why is my mind fixating on that when my brain is about to be blown out of my stupid head?
We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Well, he watches me while I stare at the gun, wondering if I’ll see the bullet coming. Will it hurt?
Then the stranger tilts his head, a flicker of emotion brightening his expression. “Well. If it ain’t my little cupcake.”
Chapter 12
Wyatt
She’shere.Here.Infront of me. In the flesh. In all her supple, voluptuous flesh. I want to wrap myself around her and never let go. Amy Hudges. My cupcake goddess.
Cross-eyed, she stares at the barrel of my gun hovering inches away from her forehead. Does she think I’d kill her? What an absolutely ridiculous notion. I don’t remember pulling the gun out; it was instinct. The second I heard the noise and realized someone was watching, I leapt toward the witness, determined to swiftly deal with them. I avoid killing innocents whenever I can, but that rule doesn’t cover people whose testimony would put me behind bars. If they see me, they’re dead. Period. Until now, because there is no way I could ever hurt her.
Lowering the gun, I reach out to Amy’s cheek. She whimpers but doesn’t move away as I touch her, hating the leather of the glove between my fingers and her skin. Amy doesn’t vanish upon my touch. Not a hallucination, then. She’s really here. But why?
Obsessed with finally being in her presence, I don’t realize I’m smearing Turbo’s blood over her cheek until I see the red streak. It infuriatessomething primal inside of me. If Amy is to wear someone’s blood like war paint, it should be mine.
Trembling, she closes her eyes, two big tears rolling down her cheeks. She doesn’t try to fight or escape, and her complete surrender is intoxicating. Would she surrender like this in bed? Or would she kick and claw at me as she chased her pleasure? It’s the quiet ones who tend to be the wildest in the throes of an orgasm.
Fuck, I can’t wait to find out.
A groan from the living room reminds me I still have unfinished business here. Reluctantly, I lower my hand. Stepping away from Amy feels like fighting the gravitational pull of a neutron star, but I somehow manage, placating myself with the promise of being back with her soon. Forever.
“Stay right here,” I order, my voice hoarse from all the emotions churning inside me. Unused to having strong feelings about anything, they nearly overwhelm me with their intensity. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Wide-eyed, Amy watches me return to the living room. She doesn’t look like she’s about to run, and even if she did, she has nowhere to hide. I’m between her and the door and I’d catch her before she could open the bedroom window. Even if she did somehow escape, there’s nowhere for her to hide. The only somewhat inconvenient thing she could do right now would be to start screaming for help, but somehow I know she won’t. My little cupcake isn’t the type to scream at the top of her lungs. For naturally polite people like her, it’s a surprisingly difficult skill to master.
I’ve been gone for a few minutes, yet Turbo has only managed to crawl halfway to the door. I’ve had people with much worse injuries get to their feet and stagger off, but this guy? Didn’t even make it off the floor. Truly pathetic. I’ll be doing both him and the world a favor by killing him.
“Please,” he whimpers as he sees me approaching. “I don’t know who killed Craig.”
I believe him. “Yeah, it’s a mystery. Truth be told, I don’t really care anymore. He’s dead, and that’s good enough for me.”
“So…you’ll let me go?” Hope shines in his red-rimmed eyes. The right one is just beginning to swell from the beating I gave him earlier when he insulted Amy. No one fucking insults Amy!
I laugh. It’s not a nice laugh. It’s cold and cruel and it beautifully smothers Turbo’s budding hope. I watch it vanish, slowly being replaced by terror as he realizes he’s not making it out of here alive. It took him long enough. I bet Amy figured it out long ago. I’ll really be doing humanity a favor by removing this vermin from the gene pool.
“I was sent to kill the man who raped Eleanor Washington. Now, Craig is dead, but he wasn’t the only one who got his dick wet, was he?”
Turbo desperately shakes his head. “N-no! I didn’t touch her. I swear!”
“Bullshit.” I raise him by the collar and shove him back onto the plastic sheet. He looks like he’s about to piss himself and I’m not cleaning that. “You don’t even know which one of them she was. And you’ve had ‘fun’ with all of them, haven’t you?” Leaning over him, I feast on the terror in his eyes. I’m normally much more detached during my kills, but not today. Today, it’s personal, and not only because of Eleanor. “I told you,Travis, lie to me again and you’ll lose more than a finger. You’re lucky I don’t have time to make you suffer properly before you die. I don’t normally do torture, but something tells me I’d enjoy a bit of cutting and slicing with you. As it stands, I have a beautiful woman to attend to, so you’ll get a quick death. Any final words?”
“I—”
“Didn’t think so.” With one hand on his chin and one on his nape, I tilt his head back, then twist sharply. It takes a lot more strength and skill to snap someone’s neck than action movies make it look like, but I’ve had enough practice to master the technique.
A muffled whimper from the bedroom tells me that Amy has not only stayed put, but she’s watching too. Good. I don’t revel in her fear like I did in Turbo’s but for now, keeping her afraid will be more useful than reassuring her she’s safe with me. If she’s terrified, she’s less likely to do something stupid.
Her hands are covering her mouth, tears streaming down her face, and her shoulders are heaving as she sucks in sharp gasps fast enough that I’m worried she’ll hyperventilate, but she hasn’t moved from her spot, just like I told her. What a good girl.
“I’ll be right with you, cupcake,” I tell her. “Try not to pass out, okay? Lugging one body out of here will be a chore enough.”
I could just leave Turbo here but the cops would connect him to Craig and start sniffing around harder. While I haven’t killed Craig, I have been asking around about him. Most people I’ve talked to know to keep their mouths shut but there’s always a chance of someone talking and I prefer to stay under the radar. Turbo’s disappearance will be suspicious but without a body, everyone will just assume he’s gone on a bender to commemorate his friend’s passing. I have a drop off point arranged where they’ll disappear his body forever, I just need to get him there. I also have to figure out what to do with Amy. I still can’t believe she’s here. Come to think of it, why is she here? In Turbo’s bedroom of all the places on this planet?
Anger surging through me, I stomp toward her, grabbing her arms when she stumbles back. Not painfully, just firmly enough to keep her steady. “Were you sleeping with him?” The words come out harsher than I intended and Amy flinches.
