Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
COLE
She fiddles with her sleeve when she’s nervous, and it’s adorable.
Bree’s sweet, subtle scent had hit him like a freight train, and his entire world shifted on its axis to only revolve around her.
Which makes tonight that much more frustrating.
He doesn’t want to wait a day to take her on a date—and despite what she says, it is a date.
It will be the first of many they’ll have together.
And it could have been tonight, if he didn’t have this fucking errand to run.
Tracking her phone was easy—it only took a few seconds, and her location was paired to his phone immediately.
It’s a little trick he learned how to do when he was running his errands.
He’s good at stalking, circling, and catching his prey—attributes that come in handy when he’s courting his mate .
Knowing where Breana is at all times makes things much easier.
The drive to the east of Green Woods is a long stretch of freeway, barren and dusty. There are no gas stations or rest stops for miles, only endless dry fields and dirt.
The abandoned barn is about an hour away.
He can smell it as soon as he parks on the side of the road—the putrid scent of tainted Alpha pheromones.
His black boots crunch against the dirt and gravel as he steps over the rotting wood of the barn entrance.
There are no sounds under the massive hay bales, but that doesn’t mean Charles is dead yet.
Cole digs up the plastic storage container with the shovel that he left against the rotting wall, creating a mess of dirt and straw around him.
Crouching down and unlatching the lid, he’s met by a pair of wild, frightened, bloodshot eyes. Charles struggles in the storage container when he sees Cole, but it’s useless against the ropes.
“You’re still alive,” Cole murmurs, disappointed. “That’s a shame.”
Charles screams and thrashes, but the sound doesn’t carry beyond the wooden walls of the barn.
Cole stands with his arms crossed and watches in amusement as the putrid-smelling Alpha knocks over the container and lands on his back with his legs and arms in the air, squirming.
He’s hogtied, just like the pig he is.
“I could have had a date tonight,” Cole sighs, as mucus runs down Charles’ nostrils. “I could have been with her, and instead, I have to deal with you .”
The scent of blood and feces fills the air, and Cole runs out of patience.
“And what if she doesn’t like me when she finds out, Charles?” he continues, landing a swift kick to his side. He’s certain a rib cracks based on the man’s howl underneath the tape. “What if she doesn’t understand why I do this?”
Another kick. Another crack . Another scream.
“Do you remember me yet?” he asks, bending to pick the shovel up. “Do you remember the last time we spoke?”
Charles’ howls turn to whimpers and recognition flashes in his eyes.
“Ah,” Cole murmurs. “You do, finally.”
He lets Charles tire himself out, watching the man struggle until he tires himself out, panting for breath.
“I’m going to be the last person you see,” Cole muses, looming over the Charles’ prone form. “Just like you were the last person Heather Micheals saw, right? We’re both delivering death. How poetic.”
He thinks he hears Charles begging underneath the tape, but it’s useless.
“You better hope she understands why I do this,” Cole warns, before positioning the rusty head of the shovel above Charles’ throat. “You better hope she falls in love with me. Or I’ll make sure there’s no peace for you, not even in death.”
Charles’ wide eyes turn lifeless as the tool pushes through the delicate skin of his neck.
He didn’t take his time tonight.
Charles died quicker than he deserved, but Cole’s priorities have shifted.
The darkest parts of his mind used to revolve around death.
Now, they belong to Breana .
To his Omega, his mate .
Ever since he sipped her side of the teacup, making sure his mouth was where hers was, he’s been insatiable.
He barely tasted the ghost of her lips, but his cock had twitched painfully in his jeans.
Nothing, and no one, has ever made him act like this.
He finds himself speeding back to his own rented cabin, stripping himself of his dirtied clothes and washing any remnants of the crime off his skin.
Not that there’s much to take care of. He’s not sloppy; but scrubbing underneath his fingernails and washing himself at least twice is his standard practice.
Just in case.
Not that there will ever be a just in case , though.
No one will miss Charles. And even if they did, pieces of him are dissolving in barrels in the middle of nowhere.
But fuck—his date with Breana could have been tonight .
Pushing it to tomorrow gives her ample time to change her mind and try to get out of it, which he assumes she will attempt to do.
Too bad it will be useless, though.
They’re having dinner together, even if he has to tie her up and force feed her.
Fuck.
He’s never hard after he kills, but thinking of her scent and the sweet taste of her mouth on that cup…
He wraps his hand around his cock as the hot water beats down around him and pumps himself hard, gritting his teeth as he imagines his Omega’s pretty face.
It’s embarrassing how fast he comes. He grits his teeth and hisses as his cum spurts across the shower walls, and he has to hold a hand against the tiled wall to steady himself as he catches his breath.
Fuck.
He can’t wait until tomorrow to see her.
It has to be tonight.