Savage Desires (Black Rose Doms Book 3)

Chapter 28

Kisten pullsme back into his arms and kisses me lightly. ”I love you, Willow.”

”I love you too.”

”Let”s get the fuck out of here. I want to go home.”

”Yes, please,” I say. He takes my hand as we walk. I stop before we get to the door. ”Wait! I need my trophy.”

I run over to Madame”s—Larissa”s—body. She died too quickly. She deserved more pain for everything she”s done, but dead is dead. I push her over so she”s lying on her back. Her throat is sliced cleanly, looking like a gruesome smile. I quickly find her knife sheathed in one of her tall boots. I pull it out and stand, staring at the blade in my hand. The same blade that she used to slice into my back all those years ago. I pull one of the knives Hera gave me from my boot sheath and replace it with my second trophy.

Prolific serial killer status, here I come!

”Now we can go home,” I say, rejoining Kisten by the door.

We wait in the living room for everyone else to finish their searches. It seems like we were in that office for hours when, in reality, it wasn”t even ten minutes. Time is really wonky during a fight. Slowly, the others trickle into the room, declaring their part of the house clear.

”We only had one guy hiding in a bathroom on the second floor,” Zeke says.

Zeke and Joker are the last team, bringing the count to sixteen people.

”Yuri must”ve sent most of his men to Mecca and the mansion because only sixteen people were here. That seems like a foolish plan,” I say.

”Twenty-one people,” Hera says, correcting my count.

I glance her way and do a doubletake. She”s covered in blood from head to toe. She could be the stunt double for Carrie, only this isn”t pig”s blood. The whole covered-in-blood thing isn”t even the most disturbing part. No, that would be the fact that she”s eating a fucking sandwich while covered in blood.

”Where did you find a sandwich?” T.J. asks incredulously.

”The kitchen. There”s a whole plate of them in the fridge. Turkey and cheese on rye. Delicious.”

”T.J., if you take one step towards that kitchen, you”re staying behind to wait for the tech team to sweep the house,” Kisten says.

He shrugs and walks off down the hallway Hera just came from.

”How was your first night as a serial killer?” Hera asks me.

”Productive. However, I have a question. Do the people I shot count towards my serial killer status or only the people I take trophies from?”

She tilts her head, seriously considering the question. ”The ones you take trophies from. The others are just business.”

”Sounds logical. Any idea what the kill count of the most prolific serial killer is?” I ask.

”No.”

”I need to do some research. Find out who my competition is.”

”Yes! Then we can make plans. I know who your next three trophies will be,” she says with a feral smile.

”I look forward to earning those particular trophies.”

”Come on, my beautiful little serial killer. It”s time to go home.”

”I”ll stick around and make sure T.J. doesn”t burn the place down before the techies come,” Hera says.

”Sounds good. Thanks for the help tonight. Feel free to send the bill,” Kisten says.

”Consider this one pro bono. It was a literal blast,” Hera says.

I giggle. ”Please don”t blow the house up until after they remove everything useful.”

”Boy Scout”s honor,” she says, holding up three fingers.

”Fucking crazy,” Shawn mutters, then walks outside. Everyone else follows his lead.

”I”d hug you, but you have a little something there,” I say, waving my hand over Hera”s entire body.

”Cutting out hearts is a messy business,” she says sagely.

I don”t even know what to say to that. ”Can”t wait until our next playdate. Let”s do your house next time.”

She wanders off down the hallway where T.J. went.

Everyone is gathered around the SUVs that are haphazardly parked in the driveway. We thank everyone for their help and tell them bye. Before we can leave, Cutter approaches me.

”I figured it out,” he says.

”Uh… okay? What did you figure out?” I ask.

”I know who you are. You”re Felix Morris”s daughter. They went missing at age sixteen and have been gone for six years. Your dad contacted us two weeks after you went missing when the police did fuck-all to find you,” he says.

I look at Kisten, feeling panic. Two gunfights, a torture session, and a gun to my head were less scary than Cutter recognizing me as Willow Morris. I”m not ready to see my dad yet.

”I know you feel obligated to tell her father you found her, but I”m asking that you don”t do that. It needs to be Willow”s decision to go to him,” Kisten says.

Cutter”s jaw ticks. He”s obviously angry. ”You would make your father continue to suffer thinking his only daughter is dead?”

Tears fill my eyes, but I blink them back. ”I was worse than dead. What are you going to tell him? ”Found your daughter. She”s been sold four times as a sex slave and lived for years as a whore in a BDSM club.” Do you think telling him that will be better than what he feels right now?”

Cutter”s expression softens. ”Look, I know you”ve been through something horrific, but your dad loves you. He still contacts me every few months asking for any updates.”

”I know he loves me, and I love him. I don”t plan to stay away forever, but I need a little time,” I say, pleading with him to understand.

”Okay. Just… tell him soon, okay? Before your birthday.”

”Don”t fucking push her, man. She”ll go when she”s ready, and if you say a goddamned word before she is, I”ll gut you,” Kisten threatens.

”It”s fine,” I say, placing a calming hand on Kisten”s chest. ”I”ll go before my birthday.”

If a look could kill, Cutter would be a dead man.

Kisten scoops me into his arms and carries me to the car. Once inside, we”re alone for the first time in what feels like days.