Chapter 2 #2
Oddly fitting. Turning to face him, one side of my lips tilt. “I prefer sheep boy, and you should really be careful who you give your real name to.”
“What’s yours?”
Wetting my lips with my tongue, I rub my finger over the top of my gun. “It’s not always a good idea to know too much about others either.”
“It’s just a name.”
Yes, but sometimes that’s all someone needs to make someone else disappear.
“And hell is just a song.” I continue moving in the direction of my house and I can feel his heavy stare on me the whole time.
I like it way more than I should. He should be careful what he asks for with his body.
If it becomes any more obvious, then I’ll feel too obliged to fulfill its request. Once I do, he may wish he’d never looked my way.
A light wind brushes the back of my neck and I’m thankful for the small break from the heat.
The weather here is always so damn unpredictable, I never know how the fuck to dress.
Since it’s a good day for a swim, I feel like I should take advantage of it while it lasts.
I haven’t taken a dip in my pond in weeks, and I’d rather not dirty my tub if I don’t need to.
Entering my house, I close and lock the door before walking down to the basement.
The heavy silence I’m met with by the time I reach the bottom is a lot better than the loud rattling and grunting taking over the room earlier.
Stripping down to my underwear, I toss my clothes on a nearby table and only take my shoes off long enough to slip my jeans off my feet.
“You made such a fucking mess in my house. More so than the last guy.”
Most people might find it weird to see me talking to a corpse, but I don’t view it as anything other than therapeutic.
Grabbing a plastic tarp from a shelf, I roll it out on the ground and roll the lifeless body on top.
Normally I would have done this before killing him, but I was caught off guard way too many times today, causing me to fuck up my whole process.
Hooking my fingers around the edges, I wrap the plastic around the body and collect some tape from where I got the tarp.
I secure the tarp tightly around the man until I’m satisfied and then carry him up the stairs.
The heavy weight causes my arms to ache, and I realize how easy my last jobs have been in comparison.
I either made them look enough like an accident to not have to move them at all, or didn’t have to carry the target too far.
Out of town jobs don't typically make it back home with me and my brother is probably thankful for the breaks he gets.
My shoes make a tapping sound against the blue tile as I carry the body through the utility room and to the garage.
My trunk is already open from earlier when I made a grocery run into town, making it easier for me to toss the body inside, and a loud thud echoes around me as I slam the trunk closed.
My stomach grumbles on the way back inside, and I ignore the slight distraction while stepping out the back door from the kitchen.
Trudging through the dirt, I glance around me to ensure no one is around as I kick off my shoes and slide down my underwear.
The water is a mixture of warm and cool as I slowly step forward.
As my body adjusts to the temperature, I sink myself fully into the water and close my eyes, along with my nose when I dunk my head underneath.
Water wraps around me as I continue to hold my breath, sinking lower to the ground.
I quickly swim upward when something large rubs against me.
Spinning around, I walk backwards in hopes of getting a better look at what the fuck might be trying to eat me.
Not much scares me, but unknown living things moving under the water I’m swimming in are enough to have my ass on high alert.
I’ve seen Lake Placid, The Shape of Water, and Deep Blue Sea, enough to know better.
My heart settles in my chest when my gaze is met by a small snout, followed by a cute furry head with floppy ears attached.
I’ve won too many fights against dangerous men using my bare hands to let a dog be the one to take me out.
Wait, he looks awfully familiar. “Where do I know you from?” I walk closer after he wags his tail in a friendly manner.
I scratch between his ears and he jumps up on my chest, nearly knocking me back on my ass.
Shoving him down, I keep stepping back until I’m on the grass, and he follows me demanding more pets.
I reach for his collar, rubbing my fingers over his shimmering license. Mr. Wiggles is his name, and he belongs to Patrick Weston.
Loud footsteps trail behind me and then stop. Patrick’s mouth is hanging open and his eyes are larger than before.
“Did you lose something else?”
His gaze lands on his dog and then on my dripping, half-hard cock. He nods slowly, too choked on his words to speak. Based on how he keeps staring at my naked form, I’m starting to wonder if it’s no longer his dog he came here to collect.
His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, causing his plump, pink mouth to glisten in the sun. He repeats the action, almost as if wishing he was doing it to something else.
“Are you going to grab him then?”
“Yeah . . . uh . . . huh?” His attention shifts to my face, eyes bulging so far out of his head I think they’re going to fall out.
“Your dog.” I nudge my head toward the wet animal running between us. “Aren’t you going to take him back home with you?”
“Oh. Yes, of course,” he says, his words sounding strangled. “Sorry.”
“You wouldn’t have to say that word so much if you didn’t have anything to apologize for.”
Swallowing hard, he pulls a leash from his back pocket and leans forward to hook one end to his dog.
The top of his shirt falls open enough for me to get a glimpse of his pierced nipples, and my cock stiffens, twitching between my legs.
I itch to reach inside and tug at the hard nubs, to see how loud I can make him scream while causing him to come at the same time.
“I really don’t know what’s happening today. It’s like all the animals are against me.”
“Maybe you’re against yourself by allowing so much to slip right by.”
“Maybe.” His gaze lands back on my cock and his face flushes.
“Is that all then? Or were you needing something else.” Pushing out my hips, I run my thumb over the top of my crown, forming my lips into a smirk.
Taking a step back, he wipes his palm on his jeans while tightening the leash around the other. “No. We’ll get out of your way. Didn’t mean to interrupt your pond bath.”
“I was coming out here for a swim during a much-needed work break.” I turn around, putting the front of my naked body on full display for his eyes to examine.
No doubt he’s noticed the scars. Everyone who’s seen me naked usually does, always asking me where I got them.
The lies I tell are different each time.
“What line of work would that be?”
Cocking my head, my jaw twitches. “Didn’t I warn you about keeping personal information limited?”
“You said that in regards to me telling you my name,” he retorts.
“Also hinting at not asking me anything you don’t need to know, and this would qualify,” I respond, more harshly than intended.
It's normally easy to lie about my name and what I do but something about the action feels wrong today. It’s stupid and makes no fucking sense.
I do it so often it’s become as natural as breathing, and yet here I am ripping at the seams every time I consider it.
“Are you a porn star or something?”
Laughing, I rest a hand over my shaking stomach. “Not even close.”
“A secret spy perhaps?” He squints his eyes as if he’s searching for more answers in mine.
It won’t gain him anything. My eyes are good at hiding shit from me too.
My reflection hasn’t been honest in a long time, so I doubt any body language I give off will tell him anything either.
In order to take down monsters and manipulators, you have to become those things yourself—at least, I do every time I leave my house.
No one can ever see the small amount of humanity I hold onto inside myself.
Too much kindness shown makes you appear weak, and you never know who’s watching.
Yet I can’t stop helping this man. Maybe because he’s the complete opposite of threatening and no one’s out here but us.
He reminds me of one of his sheep—fragile, easily startled, and helpless.
I have the sudden urge to pick him up and carry him back home, the way we did the piglets.
Would he struggle in my arms the same way, or would he cling to me like a needy kitten?
Instead of entertaining the idea the way my arms are begging me to, I shake off the feeling as best I can by wiping the water off my body. “I wouldn’t tell you if I was, would I?”
“Good point.” Looking pensive, he taps his chin. “A furniture maker? A retired billionaire who recently sold his business in order to live out a quieter life?”
Puffing out a breath of air, I shake my head. “You read a lot of romance books, don’t you?”
“No,” he responds too quickly, fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt. “They’re only random guesses. It’s just what I would do if I were a billionaire.”
“What’s your reasoning now?”
“Didn’t you say not to ask too many personal questions?” He shoots me a cocky grin.
“Ah, you’re finally learning. Look, as much as I’d like to stand here and converse about billionaires, woodworkers, and whatever else you fantasize about while alone in your room, you’re causing me to miss lunch time.”
“Sorry.” He tugs on the leash. “Come on, Mr. Wiggles, we should go eat something too. See you around.”
“Hopefully not too soon,” I add. The man is throwing off my whole day, and if we continue this way, I won’t be nearly as productive as I’d planned.
Not saying another word, he rushes back toward his house and doesn’t look back once this time, but I can’t stop wanting him to.
Get a fucking grip. I’ve gone too long without a decent fuck; it’s affecting not only my body but my brain too.