Chapter 14 - Ryker #2
I spot the familiar large oak I’d strung up… fuck, what was his name? He’d been large and muscular, and he hadn’t shut up about the state of the world and DEI and how men like us were being pushed out of the world.
I’d planned on killing him anyway, but shutting him up was a nice bonus.
There’s no sign of that activity anymore.
“You really need to pay more attention,” I say. I walk over to the oak and sit down against the trunk, setting my backpack next to me.
I think there’d been a splash of blood on that exposed root, but there’s nothing there now.
Liam sits down next to me. The proximity means I can smell him, the exertion from our mildly strenuous hike.
“Pay more attention to what?” he asks, scooting closer to me. He leans in to nuzzle my neck, nipping at the skin.
“Your surroundings, for one.” I wrap my arm around his shoulders. “I led us off the trail half a mile ago.”
“Yeah, and?” he replies. “Is that why it got so much harder?”
He really is oblivious.
I take the sports bottle and drink from it before handing it to Liam. “Drink. Rehydrate.”
He takes the bottle from me, drinking deeply from it. “Is this motel water?” he asks.
“It’s from the gas station we stopped at,” I say, and he makes a face at me. “There was a water fountain there.” I open my backpack and retrieve my prize.
I hold it up so Liam can see.
It’s a sheathed knife.
Liam’s eyes glitter with interest. “Are you threatening me?” he asks, but he sounds more delighted than afraid.
“I haven’t said a word.” I unsheathe the knife, then hold out my empty hand.
Liam looks at my hand, then back at my eyes. He cants his head to the side. “You don’t need to when you’re brandishing a knife. He had a knife, too. But I, alas, do not have a shovel.”
“Give me your hand, Liam.” I keep my voice soft and undemanding.
He obeys anyway, offering his hand out to me. “Okay. Now what?”
I place the point of the knife against his palm. “I’m going to cut you.”
“Oh, come on,” he complains. “I had a hard enough time trying to cover up my neck. How am I supposed to cover up a cut on my hand?”
I drag the tip of the knife from his palm all the way up the length of his arm, not cutting yet.
“I don’t know. Is that my problem?” I ask, pushing the point in below the inside of his elbow.
His lips part, but instead of speaking, he lets out a groan. “Fuck,” he whispers as a bead of blood wells up on his skin.
I move the knife lightly from side to side, spreading the blood but not cutting more than that.
I was right.
Liam looks amazing in red.
“Take your shirt off,” I order. “Since you don’t want me to cut any visible spots.”
His breathing is coming heavily, but I don’t think it has to do with the exertion anymore. He drags his shirt over his head, setting it next to him on the ground.
His chest is paler than the rest of him, with only a small smattering of hair. I tug on one hair next to his nipple, making him shudder. “I thought you waxed.”
“I’ve been busy,” he says. “I’ll do it once I heal from this. Or you can wait to cut me up until after, if you’d rather me be nice and smooth for you.”
I place the knife next to his nipple and make a quick slice. Liam gasps as the blood wells up. A drop makes its way down his chest.
“I don’t mind.” I smirk at him. “How many times should I cut you, brat?”
His pupils are already blown, and he parts his lips. He doesn’t speak at first, though, instead looking down at the blood slowly trickling down his chest. “I’d say as many times as you want,” he replies, “but I think that would be stupid, huh? I dunno. Five? Ten?”
“It would be very stupid,” I agree, adding a second slice.
Liam moans and rests his head back against the tree trunk, giving me access to his beautiful neck.
My cock hardens in my jeans.
I don’t usually talk to my victims like this. They’re always screaming, begging.
They’re usually tied down.
Ten cuts, he’d said, but I would only need one to kill him.
“A shovel, huh?” I say as I cut a thin circle around his other nipple.
“Mhm,” he murmurs. “It was the only thing around.”
“There’s a shovel in the back of my SUV.” I zigzag my way down to his navel. More blood trickles out, red on pale skin, and it’s a mesmerizing contrast.
“Are you saying I should go get it or something?” he asks. “Because nope. I’m gonna sit right here and enjoy.”
“I’m just making conversation.” I lift the knife and press it against Liam’s soft belly.
One thrust, and he’d be bleeding out here.
Then I’d need to get the shovel so I can bury him properly.
“Mm, okay,” he replies. His eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a contented sound. “Converse away. You want to hear about how I bashed his skull in? It was so satisfying.” He laughs. “Crunch.”
I shift the angle of my knife and make a small cut instead. “Oh? How many times did you hit him?”
This position is uncomfortable, so I shift and straddle Liam’s legs. I pet his cheek softly while I consider my next move.
My erection presses painfully against my fly.
Liam opens his eyes to look at me, biting his lip before he shrugs. “Dunno. Until he stopped moving, then a few more times for good measure.” He breathes out, then looks back down at his chest. “It’s so pretty.”
“It is,” I agree.
I want to do more.
I want to hear him scream. I want to see his eyes widen in panic, to see his mouth open in a choked sob as the life ebbs away.
I want to fuck him.
I lean in and kiss him.
He lets out a startled gasp against my lips, then kisses back earnestly, resting his hands on my shoulders.
I rest the knife against his neck while we kiss.
It would be so simple.
“Did you scream?” I whisper against his lips. “When you were thrown into the trunk of that car?”
“Mhm. Screamed and fought and scratched and clawed.” He shrugs sluggishly. “Didn’t help any.”
“Does it hurt?” I press the flat of the blade against his collarbone. “Right now.”
Liam lets out a shuddering breath. “Yeah? No? I don’t know. It feels really good, but it’s gonna hurt later, I think. You gonna kiss it and make it better?”
“I don’t usually have to,” I say, watching Liam’s eyes.
They flutter, and they try to focus, but he doesn’t manage it. “Oh. Are you gonna kill me, then?”
“It would serve you right, with how stupid you’re being,” I answer. I kiss him again. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”
“Mm,” he murmurs. “I’m too pretty to die. You want to cut me up and choke me and do all sorts of things to me. Can’t do that if I’m dead.”
I laugh again, and Liam smiles up at me.
“Fucking brat,” I respond as I sit back. I hold up the knife in front of him, wipe it on his shirt, then very purposefully resheathe it. “I’m going to jerk off on you. I’m not going to help you come.”
Liam whines low in his throat. “Do I at least get to touch myself while you do it?”
“And risk opening your wounds further?” I shake my head, smiling cruelly. “No.”
“You’re such a dick,” he replies, but his voice is still slurred. “Okay. Fine. I’ll just have to jack off to the memories later on.”
I unzip my jeans, groaning in relief to no longer be constrained. The head is already red and leaking.
Liam licks his lips, but I shake my head. “Nope. You just lay there and take it, brat. I’m going to come all over you. White on red.”
He pouts at me. “But it’d feel so much better if I sucked you,” he wheedles.
“Probably,” I agree, but I keep my distance and stroke myself.
He’s so out of it. He isn’t even scared of me. He was more worried when I left him than when I had a literal knife to his throat.
Fuck.
I groan and pick up the pace, imagining him with even more red.
Liam’s lips part, and his tongue darts out.
“You want me to mark you?” I ask, my voice uneven. “You want to be mine, you brat?”
“Yes,” he pleads. “Please. Please, please, mark me.” His breathing is shallow in his blissed-out state, and he watches my hand move on my cock.
I rest my forearm on the trunk above Liam’s head and jerk myself harder. Pleasure that had been slowly building slams into me, and I come all over his chest. Some of it even lands on his chin, and he looks glorious with my seed splattered across him, mixing with the red of his blood.
I sit back and tilt his head up.
“Thank me,” I growl.
“Thank you,” he replies without hesitation. He licks his lips, and he starts to raise a hand toward his face before he stops to stare at it.
It’s dirty.
“Ugh,” he whines. “I can’t even taste it.”
I scrape the cum from his chin and slide my finger into his mouth. “There you go.”
He laps at my finger then sucks it deeper into his mouth with a moan. “Mm,” he hums around it.
I reach into my backpack and take out the tube of wipes to clean myself. Once I’m tucked in, I sit down next to Liam and extend my arm. He immediately scoots into the space, resting his head on my shoulder.
One glance at his crotch reveals he’s still hard. I smile to myself.
“We’ll do the waterfall tomorrow,” I say. “For real.”
Liam nods, but he says, “Or we can do this again.”
“You’re really not worried I might go too far?” I ask. “Kind of dumb of you.”
He mulls that over for a moment. “I mean, I have basic self-preservation, so… Actually, no, I really don’t. I don’t know. If you wanted to kill me, you would. I don’t think you’d do it by accident, though.”
“I didn’t say it would be an accident.” I grab a protein bar from my backpack and rip it open.
“I know,” he says, nuzzling my throat. “I should be scared, but I’m not. Is there something wrong with me, do you think?”
“You murdered three people,” I point out. “There’s definitely something wrong with you.” I hold the protein bar up to his lips.
He laughs. “Mm. Four, technically.”
Four? The man who’d kidnapped him, the two I already know of… and somebody else in between. One he hadn’t left a calling card for.
I wonder who that fourth person was.
Liam takes a bite of the protein bar. “How many people have you murdered, anyway?”
I think about it. The actual number isn’t that high. Only nine. I’m not trying to draw attention by killing fifty people in a short amount of time. I space my kills out, and I try to go as long as I can without giving in to the itch.
Not for moral reasons; just for my own safety.
“How many do you think?” I ask him.
Liam takes another bite from the bar before answering. “Ten?” he hazards. “I mean, if I’ve done four already, and you’re older than I am, chances are you’ve done it more.”
“Let’s say ten, then.” I stroke his hair gently. “But it’s actually none, because I don’t do that sort of thing.”
“Of course not,” he says. “You’d never. Just like you’d never cut someone up and come all over their chest.”
“It was all consensual.” I let Liam finish the protein bar, then hold the water up for him.
He drinks obediently, and I feel another stir of arousal. He’s so fucking desperate for me.
For once, Liam is quiet. I stroke his hair and listen to his breathing.
Maybe I can keep him.
It’s not every day you meet a man willing to let you kill him.