Page 86 of Kiss of Deceit
“Be good, or I’ll make sure you suffer,” he threatened.
I forced out a laugh. “Your ego will get you killed. There is nothing you can do to me that would make me suffer.”
I scooted forward on my stomach, sinking my blade into his ankle. He yelled in pain, and I snagged his ankle, keeping him close to stab him again. One, two, three quick stabs into his calf had him screaming bloody murder. He collapsed beside me, and I pushed my knife into his stomach. Satisfied that he couldn’t go anywhere, I dropped the knife, flexing my sore fingers.
Getting to my knees, I leaned over him wrapping both hands around his throat, cutting off his air.
“Do you think I need a guard dog now?” I murmured, locking eyes with him. “My bite is much fucking worse than Kole’s.”
“Stop,” he choked out, his fist shooting out and landing on my ribs.
Even with the sleeping pills, I was riding too high on adrenaline to feel the pain from his hit. I had his life in my hands, and this kind of exhilaration was something I’d never tire of. But a thought gave me pause.
“Kole,” I whispered, my heart thrashing when the realization hit.
He was the reason. Why I wasn’t spending my nights scouring this town for the murderer. Or even just bad people. After I’d killed Lucas, I was worried it would consume me. But it never did. Not because I had my shit together like I let myself believe. But because Kole was grounding me. I liked being with him—more than stalking around in the night to find my next job.
That awareness deflated me a bit, and I loosened my hold on his throat, finally allowing him to suck in a lungful of air.
I let out a long sigh, falling next to him on the red stained snow. My body was shaking, my head still throbbing. I rested against the railing, turning my head to look at Tristin. He was curled up, groaning in anguish. Even if I didn’t finish him, he’d bleed out.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” I breathed out, my chest heaving. “You. Lucas. Leon. Me. The murderer on the loose. So much evil in one small place. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Fuck you,” he grunted, not looking at me. “If you’re going to kill me, just fucking do it.”
“What is it about this town?” I murmured, speaking my thoughts out loud. “I worked in New York City—a place with a massive population. Yet, it took me a year to track down four monsters there. Statistically, this shouldn’t be possible…” I stared at the moon. “Unless you and your friends are a package deal. Did you and Lucas commit murders together?”
When he didn’t answer, I leaned over, pressing the bloody blade to his arm. He flinched, his head snapping up to look at me. His eyes were glazed over with pain, but fear flashed through them when I pressed the knife harder.
“Answer me. I need to know,” I demanded.
“Know what?” he grated out, his voice thick with pain.
“Did you and Lucas kill together?”
“No,” he hissed. “I didn’t meet him until I came to Winterlake.”
I withdrew the blade, pondering his words. “Interesting.”
“Crazy bitch,” he muttered. “You just killed my friend…” He paused, sucking in shallow breaths.
“He attacked me. You shouldn’t have brought me out here.” I slid my gaze back to him. “Let’s hope you don’t have any other friends who try to get answers out of me.”
His weak laugh surprised me. “You think you’ll get away with this? This town…we don’t play by the rules of the rest of the world. You’ll find that out if they realize you’re killing people in this town.”
“What does that mean?”
“I hope they show you no fucking mercy when they find out,” he spat out, his voice hoarse. “And Kole? You might be riding his dick, but he’s still one of us. You’ll be nothing to him when he finds out.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “One of you? What the hell does that mean?”
Before he could answer, a noise caught my attention. I whipped my head toward the noise, trying to see through the dark. Another twig snapped, and I scrambled to my feet, panic washing over me. I looked down at Tristin, my choices dwindling. I couldn’t let him live. Not after all of this. But it wasn’t only that.
I didn’t want to allow him to keep breathing.
When I crouched down, his survival instinct kicked in. Even with his injuries, he tried getting away. I slapped my hand over his mouth, using my other one to press the knife to his throat.
“I would say I’m sorry,” I whispered, my eyes meeting his hysterical ones. “But I’m not.”
