Page 49 of Runaway Bride for the Boss

“You’re going now?” He drops his feet and stands. “You haven’t read the full report I got you on Autumn. And you have a very important appointment with Adam Townsend in an hour.”

Adam Townsend is one of the town’s politicians campaigning to be voted onto the Selectboard. He likes to call himself a philanthropist and master strategist. I accepted his appointment because I realize there’s a strong chance of him becoming one of the five Selectboard members in the election next year.

“Reschedule it. I’ll see him tomorrow.” I glance at my watch. Past seven. If I go now, I should be back in time for my date with Autumn.

“Reschedule a meeting with Alan Townsend?” He sounds surprised. I never reschedule prior appointments because I hatechanging plans, especially not with politicians I deem potentially useful. They can be slippery and quite annoying when they feel slighted, but this is important. It has to be dealt with today.

“Reschedule it,” I repeat, walking out of my office. He follows closely behind me.

“But what about the report on Autum – Ms. Montgomery?” he corrects himself when I give him a sideways glance. “There’s an important detail you need to know.”

“The report isn’t going anywhere. I’ll get to it when I’m back.”

Instead of calling for my car, I walk toward Noah’s truck. This is personal. I wait for him to unlock the doors and get into the passenger seat. Noah gets in the driver’s seat, and I type in the address to the GPS.

“Let’s go fuck some people up,” he says with something like glee in his voice. I roll my eyes at him. He still gets excited when we have to go put the fear of God, no, the fear of the Beauforts, into some sad soul.

Noah floors the gas, exceeding the speeding limits. No one is going to stop us and he knows it. We get there in a record hour and a half.

“Solid driving,” I commend him as I get down from the truck.

“I try.” He grins.

We both turn to inspect the small house in front of us with its loping roof, peeled paint, and a sorry excuse for a garden. The home of Richard Smith. The other two live nearby making this really quite convenient for me. I would hate having to make this take any longer than it needs to.

We walk toward the house and Noah pounds on the front door.

“What? Who is it?” an annoyed voice calls from within. Footsteps approach and the door is swung open. According to the report, Richard is thirty years old, but he looks like a solid forty. Bad habits like smoking and hard drugs will do that to you.

“Do I know you lot?” He squints as he glances between Noah and me.

I grin at him. “No, but you’re about to.”

Noah pushes Richard back into the house, and I roll up my sleeves as I follow him. “Richard Smith, you were a really bad boy. You hurt someone I’ve come to really care about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he shouts. “And if you don’t leave my house, I’ll call the police.”

I bark a harsh laugh. “Why don’t you go ahead and do just that?” I suggest, taking my tool box out of my jacket pocket. I place it on the high table conveniently located in the living room. I don’t pay him any mind as I take out my scalpel, gloves, scissors, forceps and a few other contraptions.

“Wha–what’s that for?” Richard stammers, and I nod at Noah who hits the back of his head with enough force to knock him out. I don’t actually need the tools, but it will certainly add an edge of terror before I go ahead with taking his eye out. The goal isn’t just rendering him half blind; it’s to induce lifelong trauma. The kind that will stick with him through what’s left of his pathetic excuse of a life and haunts his dreams, leaving him paranoid at every corner. I want him to never answer his front door in peace again. Every time he looks at his god awful face in the mirror, I want him to think of me and shudder.

Noah brings out the black cable ties and secures his wrists behind his back and his ankles to the chair legs. I drag on my rubber gloves and casually make my way to his kitchen where I fill a bowl with cold water. I walk back to where Richard is passed out and pour the water on his face. He comes to with a harsh gasp.

“Oh good, you’re up,” I say conversationally. “You won’t want to miss this part, I promise.”

I nod at Noah again, and he plants his hands on Richard’s knees to hold him still. I hover over his chest. “Listen, Richard.I only want to take out one eye. I’m going to place my hands on either side of your face and dig my thumb into your right eye until it pops out, simple as that. But you have to stay really still or I might accidentally take out both of your eyes, you don’t want that do you?”

The coward whimpers. “P-please. I didn’t do anything.”

I sigh irritably. I don’t have time for chitchat, but I do want him to know that I’m doing this for my girl. “Think back to say fifteen years ago, a small girl with glasses was adopted with you and your siblings and you left her in the woods blind and alone. Does it ring a bell?”

He doesn’t remember at first, but then his eyes widen dramatically. “Autumn?” he asks in a hushed voice.

I snap my fingers. “Bingo. Now hold still.” He doesn’t hold still, of course. They never do, I think with disgust as I grip his face tightly. Part of me wishes this was my first time doing this, but it’s definitely not, so this shouldn’t take long at all.

The fucker starts screaming as I force my thumb and index finger between his eye socket. Because of the natural lubricating fluids and tears, his eye is slippery. I swear under my breath as I try to get a hold of it.

Richard makes the mistake of closing his eyes, which makes pinching his eyeball between my fingers easy. I apply pressure until it pops with a loud squelch and the fucker’s scream increases in pitch as blood streams out of the empty socket. Then he passes out.

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