Page 14 of Poisoned Pawn

Things go at warp fucking speed as soon as I step foot inside and are how I find myself in my current predicament; one hand holding a knife and the other wrapped around her delicate and fragile neck just crying out for me to snap it—or bite it, either way it’s a win for me.

I don’t do either.

I do however make a mess of the fucker who has been hired to kill Star.

Something you were hired to do too.

I ignore the irritating and unwelcome reminder, and instead turn around as Star readies to make a run for it.

Bad fucking idea.

“You run, I’ll catch you. I catch you, I fuck you.” Star’s momentary surprise gives way to fear when I cut off her daring protest with one of my own. “Try me…Star.”

And off she runs like a good girl.

That earlier hunter instinct I suppressed returns full force and carries me out the door after her.

My body thrums with excitement as I barely break a sweat. Taking her to the ground, I envelope her body as she thrashes and attempts to get away. But that’s not happening.

Pinning her hands to the ground, she threatens to scream. Like that will stop me. Screaming is my kind of poison, it’s my heroin, my addiction.

“Do it. I love it when you scream.” I know without a shadow of doubt she’s picturing our night together. Her body softens only a fraction, but it’s enough to tell me I’m right. “Be a good girl and scream for me, Star.” I inhale her scent, a delicious and heady combination of possibilities with a hint of cinnamon, something unique I’ve never smelt before.

I hear them when she does, calling out her name and desperately searching for her. Time for me to leave. I can’t afford for them to see me. But I make sure Star will be thinking of me long after I’ve gone. And I can’t resist a taste, swiping my tongue up the side of her face. It’s not the taste my dick had in mind, but it will have to do for now.

Then I’m gone.

When I make it back to my car, I pull out my phone and watch through the security app I used earlier as Aidan Kavanagh orchestrates a clean-up. Although there is no sound, his fury is clear. It doesn’t take long for the feed to be cut off. A move that pleases me and means Aidan is leaving nothing to chance, but along with that comes the risk of him seeing me.

That’s a problem for another day.

* * *

Monday means it’s time to be a normal member of society and go to work, the kind that doesn’t involve killing people.

The garage is open when I arrive, and I find Kai with his head under the bonnet of a 1983 silver capri. He looks up as I enter.

“Hey, boss. Good weekend?”

“A quiet one this week,” I tell him as I move toward the office.

“Sure,” he mocks knowing my weekends are never quiet. He thinks they are filled with parties and women. He doesn’t have a clue that when I’m not here, I’m murdering people and getting paid for it.

I bought the garage about eight years ago needing a cover for my real job, and it’s a great way to launder my less legitimate earnings. When you have medical bills to pay, a legit business is the best way to avoid too many questions from the authorities.

Becoming a mechanic was much easier than my path into the life of killer. It’s not a role you imagine when you’re a teenager, but it is the unfortunate position I found myself in thanks to the piece of shit my mum was dating when I was sixteen.

That piece of shit was also my first kill after he beat my mum and raped my sister then set fire to our house. What I didn’t fucking know when I sliced that fucker up was that the men he was working for would want payment for the loss of their man.

The mark they branded me with burns at the memory. I might not be owned by them anymore, but the memory and who I became are a living legacy.

My phone pings, and I pull it free from my pocket to see another message from the client who hired me to kill Star. Only he doesn’t seem pleased that she isn’t dead.

Last night when I returned home, I returned the down payment he sent after I initially agreed to the job. To say that pissed him off would be an understatement. One I give absolutely no fucks about.

What I do give a fuck about is that I can’t stop him from hiring someone else to do the job, and I still have no fucking clue about who the other guy hoping to put Star in an early grave is.

My little intervention last night is not going to stop them, but it will delay the inevitable.

---