Page 12 of Your Soul Is Ours

Her eyes widen in surprise but never leave mine as she processes my words. “That’s crazy. We can’t just kill her, can we?” It’s like the idea never dawned on her, and that is one reason I love her so, her heart isn’t filled to the brim with the dark sludge mine is.

“We can end her and your misery at the same time. Open up your life for happiness.” Her lips part, a flash of something passes through her eyes that I don’t recognize, and it’s gone before I can even try to.

“I’ve always wanted to live in a world where either she or I don’t exist, but I don’t think I could do it. I’m flattered you would do that for me, though.”

I think this is it. This is where she tells me that I’m too fucked up for her to love. She joins me on the floor and places her hands on either side of my face before she kisses me. Painfully aware of the hard floor under us, I break the kiss to pick her up and walk to her bedroom, laying my gorgeous dove on the bed. A sign of peace is what she is. She’s the only sign I need in the universe to tell me I’m not alone.

As I remove her sweater, I feel the softness of the fabric against my fingertips. I don't want her to feel judged or embarrassed when she's with me. I rip the band tee I’m wearing off and watch her eyes run over my lean body.

My lips meet and wrestle with hers, and I can feel the intensity of our passion growing. She breaks the kiss, and the sound of the zipper echoes as she shimmies out of her jeans. I roll onto my back, and she positions herself on top of me, straddling my body. Her warmth grinds on my leg, and her gaze fills with desire. I run my hands over her smooth skin. Her lips find mine again, and I slide my fingers into her panties. Marla’s wetness coats her slit, and I run the pad of my thumb over her clit and ease my middle digit into her. I fuck her slowly with my fingers, my mouth capturing every moan and the scream that dies on my lips.

She smirks before she moves off of me, laying her head on my chest. My dick aches, but her face on my chest is all I need at this moment. I’ll have lots of time to fuck her silly. “That was great,” she whispers against my skin.

“It’s only the beginning,” I tell her as we fall asleep.

“You are too late.” I stare at Clyde, and my mouth dries.

“What the fuck do you mean? I’m a day behind.” His dead eyes stare back at me, but tonight, he’s not high like normal. I’ve spent so much time with Marla that I’ve slipped on my usual jobs.He puts his hand on the door frame, and his stained wife beater grips his body. “Yeah, too late. I’ll get someone else.”

As I throw my shoulder into his chest, he stumbles back out of the door into his shitty apartment. I close the door behind me. “What the fuck, man?”

I act on instinct and punch him in the face. I can feel the bones in his nose give way beneath my strength as blood flows. As I scan his cluttered living room, my eyes dart around, searching for his phone or a phone number.

“Who’s your supplier?” Gritting my teeth, I knock everything off his coffee table. A knife catches my eye, and I grab the handle.

“If you think I’m just going to let you take my spot, you are fucking stupid,” he spits at me as I turn to face him.

“Oh, but I think you will. I’ll slit your throat right now, and you can bleed all over the filth you live in. Live and die in the same shithole that was always meant to destroy you.” His eyes widen at the sight of the knife in my hand. He doesn’t hesitate to pick up his phone and call someone.

“Yeah, I have someone who wants direct contact. He’s been a dealer for me for years; he’s the best sober dealer I’ve ever had,” he jabbers on for a few minutes, ending the call as he looks atme. “Done. Here is his number, but don’t fuck around because they won’t be as forgiving.”

I call the number myself and listen to the man on the other end set up a meeting between us for tomorrow.

“I did what you wanted. Now get the fuck out of my apartment. Just because you are a good dealer doesn’t mean you get to be a psychotic bag of shit.”

How wrong he is. I charge towards him and slip the knife across his throat. He falls to the floor, and I search for a container in the kitchen. My plants need to be fed, and I didn’t have the leisure of bringing him home. Sifting through cupboards, I grab a large thermos and place it next to him and fill it with his essence.

While I wipe my prints off everything I’ve touched, I look around for cash and take half of what he has. His bathroom smells like a bad truck stop, and I do my best to breathe from my mouth as I examine my appearance for blood and wash my hands.

On my way out the door, I grab the thermos and walk to my car to put it in the trunk. I don’t have a lot of time until the blood might spoil, and I have to bury the bodies that no doubt are stinking up the shed by now.My phone vibrates in my pocket. I have one more appointment before I have to get home.

“Mr. York, I’m hopeful you are still coming today.” Shit, I’m late.

“Yes, I’ll be there in about five minutes. Sorry, I had another business meeting that went too long.” After I get into the car, I drive to the other side of town into an office parking lot. Walking into the real estate office, I feel underdressed, but it shouldn’t matter.

“Mr. York, I assume?” the man in the suit asks. I nod. “Follow me. My office is just over here.” We walk a short distance and enter a small room with beige walls. There are a couple of chairson one side of the desk and his on the other. “Have a seat. We shouldn’t be long. I just need you to sign a few forms. We have your down payment already, just the final dotted I’s,”

I smile as I read over the files. “Excellent.” I jot my initials on the dotted line.

“Congratulations, you are now the owner of Clancy Court Apartments.”

Shaking his hand for the last time, I take the folder and smile before I’m out the door on my way home. Now I can make sure there won’t be another creepy landlord around my Marla. While I drive home, I think about the work ahead of me, the hole needs to be dug, and the plants need to be fed. I hope I’ll have enough time left to visit her. I feel like my chest is collapsing because I haven’t seen her in a day.

As I pull into the driveway, I go straight to work, feeding the plants. With the thermos in hand, I make my way to the shed. My intuition was correct. The bodies are worse for wear in the couple weeks I’ve been away.I should have thought of an excuse to come home sooner, but I didn’t want to leave her. I grab the shovel and head out to the yard, choosing a small piece of the backyard that the rain has already softened. More flowers will have to be planted to mask the sight of the last hole.

Once I’ve dumped the pieces of bodies into the Earth, I cover it with dirt and put away my tools. Since time is still on my side, I walk into the house and shower before grabbing a pair of jeans and a black band tee and getting dressed quickly. Doing a last glance around, I make sure everything is in place and drive back into town.

Nine

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