Collateral Damage

C H A P T E R 42

THE TASTE OF SIN

Puppeteer

M y sight is aimed for the glass bottle sat on the top of the car bonnet, squinting as I hold my breath before taking my shot, shattering it to pieces. I’m trying to distract myself from the time we spent together last night. I could have stayed in bed with her. I could have woken her up with breakfast and kisses, but that isn’t me. None of this is me. Instead, I am out here feeling sorry for myself, trying to tell myself I did the right thing. But I shouldn’t have done it. What was I thinking? I let my own selfish desires get in the way of my actions and now she’s lost her virginity to a monster .

She should have lost her virginity to a silly little writing nerd with glasses, straight A’s and a degree in how to be a good boyfriend . But I know that’s unrealistic. And how can I count on the fact she would have found the right person. I’m not the right person. But at least this way no one can break her heart. I will break her heart, and I've already done that so it won’t be difficult for her to get over it. She should hate me anyway so it will only solidify what she should be feeling towards me all along.

I’m fucking selfish. And now I don't think I will ever be able to let her walk away. I’m a fucking idiot. But it felt so right. She felt like home on my fucking tongue. She belongs here. With me.

I let my inner frustration out on the bottles lining the bonnet that I should probably clean up later but it’s a graveyard of unfulfilled rage that I like to keep. My mag runs out and I go to change it when her sweet little voice calls for me from the front door.

“Damn. Was it really that bad?” She bellows over the ricochet at the end of my gun. I turn to look at her, standing in my doorway with my black tee on and I am assuming nothing else underneath which makes the back of my mouth salivate at the thought. She should know better than to dangle herself in front of me like that.

“Very funny.” She's glowing. And I didn't even know it was possible for someone like her to glow more than she already does. She stalks towards me playfully with her hands held behind her back. Her hair is subtle with grease from last night's antics, knotted into a loose bun and her candy apple cheeks are hard to miss. She doesn’t seem annoyed that she didn’t wake up with me. But honestly, I wasn’t sure if she would want to. I don’t think either of us expected yesterday to end up how it did.

“Can I have a go?” She rubs up to me like a cat, gazing up at me with her newfound pretty siren eyes as she clings onto my bicep.

“Do you even know how to fire this thing?” I peer down at her, taking my aim off the bottle.

“Ouch!...I will have you know. I have expertise in the matter.” I highly doubt that. Don't tell me. Daddy gave her lessons on how to protect herself . Look how that's going mate.

“Ok. Give it your best shot.” I pass her the gun. It’s only a suppressor pistol so it’s not heavy but her arm still drops as she takes it from my hand. I forget she’s three sizes smaller than me.

She aims at the three bottles left standing on the bonnet and fuck does she look good holding a weapon, fierce and dangerously beautiful .

I quietly creep in behind her, pushing her to aim for the far left and I can feel her side eyeing me, gently wrapping my hands around her waist just to listen to her pant with anticipation.

Play –‘Obsessed – Jutes’

“Concentrate Baby… ” Calling her baby feels weirdly natural. I feel this dire need to protect her. Care for her. Comfort her. When I should be snapping her, bending her and breaking her.

She sucks in a breath, aims and fires, popping the bottle clean off the bonnet and my brow raises in pride, smirking at my Little Puppet . She needs to let more of that power in. Her breath hitches, like she’s surprised she hit it. She closes her eyes, falling into my touch as my tongues trail up the column of her neck, gripping her hips tighter as she whimpers for me, still desperately trying to hold up the gun with both hands.

“The mag is full this time…I could kill you right now.” Clever girl . She could. But she won’t. She just wants me to put her on her knees.

“Was that a threat?” I mutter, caressing the shell of her ear with my bottom lip.

“Maybe…” I’m starting to enjoy this little brat inside of her now that she is willing to bend for me. My left arm reaches round to grab her left wrist, twisting her body to face me cutting her movement with my foot so she stumbles, cradling her fall as her back finds the ground already armed with the pistol in my right hand hooking the barrel underneath her chin as she peers up at me, defenceless and frightened. She squeezes her eyes shut and we both know I could very easily end this right here, right now. I’ve had my fun. Who’s to say I wouldn't?

“Threaten me again. And I'll make sure I don't hesitate next time, Innocence .” She wants to believe I wouldn't. But she is also not stupid. At the end of the day, I am still a ruthless killer and I've not exactly had my fix lately. She doesn’t need to know her existence subdues the monster inside of me but I have no problem letting out my murderous tendencies on her delicious cunt.

“You know, you technically can’t call me that anymore.” She’s not wrong. But now I will just say it out of spite. To remind her who snatched her soul.

“What would you prefer? My dirty Little Whore?” I’ve dirtied her. Smouldered her in my thorns but she doesn’t seem to mind and that’s exactly what I wanted. She opened her petals for me and now I will pick them, one by one, until the only thing that remains is the skeleton of a flower that once bloomed. She will find beauty in things people deem ugly. Like me. A flower with no petals will not get picked, left to decay until the dirty soil consumes her. But her petals were falling long before I came along. They do not grow back, you have to learn to love this new version of you. Like she has to learn to love this new version of herself.

“Yes.” She whispers coyly and my mouth cracks, trying to hold in this beast that wants to take great pleasure in showing her how a whore is treated. But I know she’s sore, so I will be nice just this once.

“Be careful what you wish for… Let’s learn to walk before we run.” The tip of the barrel finds its way between her legs, lifting my tee shirt to reveal she is in fact bare underneath, laying helplessly before me. Her pretty pussy glistens in the morning sun and I haven’t got a cock, but fuck have I got a fucking hard on. I slide the cold metal between her wet slit as she flinches, lathering it in her arousal.

“I thought you liked it when I ran…” She’s trying to coax out the brutality in me and I’m fighting everything in me not to ram this barrel into her tight little hole as I pull it to her mouth, slick with her honey, running my tongue along the inside of my cheek.

“Lick it off. Whore .” My bitter words paint a picture that lives rent free in my mind. Fear . It never ceases to make me throb as her balls of fire erupt, poking out her tongue for me still so willing to please me. I run the metal along her soft muscle, letting her clean off her sins from my weapon before shoving it down her throat instead.

“Does this get you off Puppet ? Being treated like a broken dolly?” She chokes on it, giving me the most adorable evils. The insides of my fingers slap her wet cunt making her jolt against me, taking the barrel further, gagging for air as oxygen leaves her lungs, playing with her sensitive bud as she shudders beneath me, her back grazing against the dirty concrete beneath us. “I’ve not even touched you and you’re already dripping for me.”

She peers down her nose, trying to avoid eye contact with me but I pull her head back up with the gun still wedged in her gob watching her saliva run down her chin, wanting to smear it over her perky little tits.

“Out in the open with your pussy on show for anyone to see. It’s a good job we’re alone. I don’t like to share.” I remove the barrel and she gasps for air, choking as her body rejects it, trying to find her voice again.

“No one would want to fuck me anyway.” I grind my back teeth, taking her delicate throat in my hand with intent to bruise it if she keeps up that talk. I want to throttle whoever indoctrinated her with that crap. Some stupid boy no doubt.

“I will wash your mouth out. Careful Princess .” She pulls away from my hold, trying to stand on her feet, adjusting my tee to cover back up her non-existent dignity.

“I’m going for a shower.” She snarls. Storming off towards the house in a huff and just for that, I’m going to show her how fucking wrong she is.

I follow her into the house where she’s already stripped off and turned the shower on. She left the door open on purpose, stepping under the water to wash away all her dirty sins. But unfortunately, that won’t help her now.

I slip out my cuffs from my jacket pocket on the back of the dining room chair and quietly follow her in, my footsteps drowned out by the running water. She knew this wasn’t going to end well for her, but she kept the door open anyway. Silly Puppet.

I’m fully clothed but I don't care as I stand there waiting for her to run her hands through her hair, launching for her wrists to clamp them with metal, pushing her closer to the wall so I can thread the chain behind the piping hot shower pole restraining her so she can’t move. She screams profanities and I waste no time sliding my fingers through her knotty hair as it moulds around my wrist, tugging her scalp tightly until her face is submerged by water. She thrashes against my grip, holding her breath trying not to drown in it as I spit through my teeth in anguish, enjoying the sound of her gurgle for air, the way her body is chasing for mine as she moulds to my firm torso.

“I want to fuck you!... And if I had it my way, I would fuck your tight, swollen little cunt on every surface of the house until you couldn’t walk just to hear your pathetic little whimpers down my ears. You dumb little girl. Do you realise just how fucking perfect you are? How many men would be lucky to take your body? And so help me god. I’d like to watch them try.

Because as long as I'm still breathing. You belong to me. Do you understand me?”

I hold her there a little longer, watching her hold onto her precious little life before she’s just about to break, then throw her head forward, letting her spit out her words, gasping on this life that I've given her. I don’t want to kill her anymore. But I can have fun trying.

“Yes…” She doesn’t fight. Only obeys, like she needed to hear those words come out of my mouth to finally realise her worth.

“What are you, Alora ?” I never used to call her by her name because I knew she hated it, but now it makes her a whiny little mess.

“ Beautiful… ”