Chapter 6 #2
But that’s a lie. I wanted to as soon as he came up behind me. I wanted to kill him right there and then.
The man doesn’t answer. Just stands there, barely even moving. I gulp down the fear, my arms prickling, my nipples beading.
“Are you gonna hurt me?” I ask, knowing somehow that he won’t.
“My, my, little wolf, you have one insatiable appetite.” He chuckles darkly, and my body grows tingly from the sound of it, from the way his tone fills with something murky and taunting.
He moves a step, and I move back, fearing him, yet draped with excitement at the thought of being caught.
“Don’t call me that.” The words shake out of me.
“Why? You are every bit the wolf, playing with danger, hunting your prey.”
My body shivers.
“Do you deny it? That you wanted to kill him just like the other man whose throat you slashed?”
I gasp. “H-how did you know that?”
“I know everything, Kayla Jenkins. I know everything about you.” His laugh is cold, emotionless. “But don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul what a dirty girl you are.” His voice is sinful. Deadly. “I can keep your secret.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat.
“Do I know you? Have we met? What do you want in exchange?” The questions rush out of me while the body bleeds across my wooden floor.
“No.” He shakes his head. “You don’t know me.”
He moves even closer, and my breaths ring louder as he does.
“But none of us know one another, do we, now? Not at our core. We’re all strangers to one another, especially those closest to us.”
He takes another step toward me, and this time I wait, wanting to be near him, anticipation drowning me.
“Take you, for example,” he goes on. “Do your friends know how wicked you are? How much blood is on your pretty hands?”
My chest grows tight, fear clouding my vision.
“You can’t tell them. Please,” I beg, my breath caught in my throat.
“I have no intentions of telling anyone. Your secret will remain between us. Because we’re friends now, aren’t we?”
I nod because he’s a madman in a mask, holding my fate in his hands.
“I’ve gotta say, though…” He chuckles deep in his throat. “You need to learn how to be a little bit neater with your work.” His face turns toward the man.
“Didn’t exactly have that luxury with him trying to kill me and all.”
His laughter is silkier this time, like being draped in a soft, pillowy blanket. I can just see his smirk too.
“Well, you sure made a huge mess the last time, and now this… There are easier ways to do it.”
My stomach turns to knots. “And you know this how?”
He laughs again, but doesn’t answer my question. “I’m going to clean this up for you. You’re welcome.”
“Wh-what? Really?” My eyes fill with disbelief.
Maybe I won’t have to call Michael after all. Or maybe he’s lying.
“Why would you do that? What’s in it for you?”
How the hell can I trust this lunatic? What’s wrong with me?
“Do you always question a gift when it’s handed to you?”
“Of course.” I hike up my chin.
“Good girl.”
I swear, if I could see beneath his mask, I know he’d still be smirking.
“Now get me some hydrogen peroxide, lots of water, and a pair of gloves while I grab some bleach and plastic to wrap him in,” he demands.
I look around, not seeing any. “Where is it?”
“Well, obviously not here.” He chuckles. “Going to get it from my car while you do what I asked.”
The better question would be why he has bleach and plastic in his car to begin with. Then again… He is in a mask and terrifying as hell.
“What will you do to him?” I peer over at the body.
“Nothing you need to worry about. Now go before your bodyguard shows up. And I don’t really want to kill him. Unless you want me to.”
I shake my head. “No, he’s fine. He’s not like them.”
And he’s currently pissed off at me, if the text messages burning a hole in my pocket are any indication.
“Lucky him, then.”
I wish this stranger would take off that mask so I could see his face. I want to know what he looks like. Want to see his mouth move as he smiles.
I pinch my thighs together. I’m sick. The thoughts running through my head would shame the Kayla I used to be.
But I’m no longer her, am I? Not since they took me. Ruined me. Now, I’m barbaric, wanting things I can never say out loud, especially to a man.
If I’m being honest, I like his mask. Want him to throw me on the floor and wear it as he fucks me.
My God, I’m sick.
The men from my past would wear masks too…
Is that why I like his? Because I’m twisted that way?
But theirs were pretty. Deceiving. His is not. He isn’t hiding. He’s showing me who he is.
“What’s with the stupid mask?” I blurt out, needing a distraction from my intrusive thoughts.
“You’re not scared of it?” I hear the mockery, like he enjoys the fact that I’m not.
“Scared? No.” I slowly shake my head. “Seen monsters scarier than that.”
“So have I,” he whispers, and for a moment, there’s something raw in it. Something real and honest…and sad.
Though I can’t see his eyes, I feel them, and my heart slams in my chest.
What were his monsters like?
What did they take from him?
Every part of me itches to ask him. To know. To feel.
But instead, I rush out of there and into my bathroom. With my back against the wall, I close my eyes and temper my breathing, needing to be okay before I head back out.
The door slams shut while I stay here wondering…
What am I even doing caring about this psychopath? I mean, he is a psycho. Who else wears a mask like that and isn’t even fazed by a dead body?
Shit. It hits me now.
Is he stalking me? He must be. What are the chances of him just showing up here? Oh my God. I have a stalker, don’t I?
This is just great! A bodyguard and a stalker. How did a girl get so lucky?
Not even a minute later, I hear him return.
Grabbing the things he asked for, plus some thick yellow gloves for each of us and towels from the closet, I force myself toward the exit.
I drop everything gently on the floor as soon as I’m out.
“Here.” I hand him his pair of gloves, holding on to mine.
He zips his line of vision to my hands.
“What?” I snicker. “Thought I’d let you do it alone?”
He chuckles all deep, and my stomach dives, heat sprouting between my thighs once again, like a flame that won’t simply put out. I hate it and love it at the same time.
“My, my, little wolf. You just keep surprising me.”
“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”
“That’s ’cause it is.”
I stare at him, and through the mask, I just know he’s staring right back.
He drops a jug of something that reads oxygen detergent. As he slips on his gloves, I pick it up, examining it.
“What’s this?”
“Ah, I see my little murderess hasn’t read the latest on forensics.”
“I’m sorry we’re not all career murderers like you, apparently. Promise to do better next time,” I scoff.
“No, you won’t,” he chuckles, his leathery rasp sending an electric chill up my spine. “But that’s because you don’t plan it out. You just do it. That’s when mistakes happen.”
I hate to admit how right he is.
“So, will you enlighten me on your secret weapon, or should I guess?”
His silence greets me for a moment before he goes on. “This is a special type of bleach. Not the chlorine kind, which makes blood stains invisible, yet will still show the presence of hemoglobin. Oxygen-based bleach erases all traces of it, leaving no evidence.”
“Wow…” I say almost sarcastically. “You really are a murderer.”
“You sound pretty judgey for a woman who just killed a man. Two, I might add.”
“Touché.” My mouth quirks up, and I pause, staring quietly at him for a few moments. “Will you show me your face?”
His chest rises with growing breaths. And for a moment, I don’t think he’ll answer.
“Maybe. But you’re not ready to know me yet.”
“Have I seen you before?”
“Maybe.”
“Do you always answer questions without really answering them?”
“Always.”
“Are you smiling under that stupid thing?”
“Sure as hell am, Kayla Jenkins. But don’t take it as a compliment. Wouldn’t want it to go to your head.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I purse my lips, but my mouth burns with how hard I’m trying not to smile.
“Fucking trouble,” he mutters under his breath, like he didn’t mean for me to hear it. With a heavy exhale, he says, “Let’s clean up this mess before you create another one.”
“For some reason, I think you’re very much enjoying this.”
“A little too much.”
Without saying another word, he unrolls a plastic tarp across my floor, then grabs the man’s body and lowers him down. Speechless, I watch him cover the dead body with the plastic until only a shadow remains.
He picks up some of that oxygen bleach and a towel and starts cleaning, while I follow everything he’s doing and do the same.
Together, we make the place look as though nothing ever happened.
And the scariest part of all is that being here with him, doing what we’re doing, is the most fun I’ve had in a while.