Chapter 22
LILIANA
“You’re okay,” Alice gives me this weird, half-hearted smile. It’s like the kind you expect from your therapist after you’ve just trauma dumped for a solid hour. “It’s just the pressure building up, you know?”
“The pressure of what?” I demand, chin in my hands as we sit perched at my kitchen bar. “The fact that I think I’m just like my father?”
Alice shakes her head, rolling her eyes in the middle of it. “You’re nothing like your father. We’ve been over this.”
“Okay, but I think you’re wrong.”
“I think you let your creepy dad get in your head.”
“Ugh,” I let out a groan, reaching for the glass of wine. “I don’t know, but it was bad enough my mother bailed to go back home once you got here.”
Alice sits there quietly for a few beats, then meets my gaze as I down my second glass of wine. “I don’t think your mother is as strong as you, Lil.”
“She’s way stronger.”
My best friend shakes her head. “No, I think she’s just good at disconnecting. That’s how she’s coped with your dad being…your dad.”
I nod, my head buzzing from the wine, but before I can say anything more about it, my phone starts to vibrate against the counter. I furrow my brow and then lean over. It’s a number I don’t recognize.
“Don’t answer it,” Alice says to me, stopping my hand. “Whoever it is can leave a voicemail.”
“It could be a buyer,” I point out, and then pick it up and hit the answer button. I take a deep breath. “This is Liliana.”
“Hi,” the voice is shaky on the other end.
“This is Marta Samuels, Marissa’s mother.
I was…” her voice trails off in a way that makes my heart sink.
“I was just wondering if you had seen her recently. She hasn’t shown up to lunch three days in a row.
We went to her apartment to see if she was there, but… ”
“She missed work today,” I answer, unsure of what else to say. “I tried to call her but was unable to get through.” My voice stays freakishly steady, even as Marissa’s mom starts to choke up on the other end of the phone.
“We’re going to report her missing,” she sniffles, the words barely coherent. “I’ll let you know if we find anything out.” With that, the phone hangs up, and I slowly pull it away from my ear, my heart thudding heavily in my ribcage.
Alice purses her lips. “I bet that wasn’t a buyer. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Marissa is being reported missing, so I guess she’s not just ditching work.” I take a deep breath. The eerie calm feeling is almost enough to send me into a panic, because I’m not panicking.
“I think…” Alice looks up at me. “I think… I think maybe we should… I think we should…” She’s at a loss for words, her eyes dropping to her hands on the counter.
My phone vibrates against my hand, and I startle sideways, preparing for it to be something else with Marissa—or my father. At this point, I just want to burn my fucking phone. But as I glance down at it, my heart jumps.
CrimsonCuff has requested a meeting.
I stare at the screen and set the phone down. “No way.”
Alice leans over, her brows furrowing as she peers at the notification. “Why not? Isn’t this the guy you’ve been seeing a few times now? You know he’s safe. It might be good to just fuck it out.”
I make a face at her. “The answer to everything is not always to get laid.”
She shrugs. “It sure as hell seems to work for me.”
“He messaged me on here,” I pick up my phone and navigate to the messages, leaving the request pending. “And my last reply didn’t send for some reason.” I show her the red exclamation point beside it. “He could be wanting to meet just because he’s mad or something.”
Alice bursts into laughter. “Girl, stop. It’s a hookup app. No one is catching those kinds of feelings—unless you are.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Still haven’t been able to let go of Detective Shaw?” She wriggles her eyebrows. “I bet you’re missing him, huh? He hasn’t been around. Maybe you should call him.”
“I’m sure I’ll see him soon,” I ignore the rest of what she’s saying, my mind going straight back to the fantasy that started my escapade—well, and Marissa missing.
Fuck me. Life is about to get even worse.
Maybe it’s worth one more time, then I’ll delete the app.
“Your wheels are turning,” Alice pokes my arm. “Why?”
“I think I’m going to have to delete this app,” I look back at her. “What if they think… What if…”
Alice laughs. “You're tipsy and paranoid right now.” She grabs my phone, and then makes a few taps on the screen before I can get my hands back on it. “All fixed. You’re set to hook up at his place on the other side of town.”
“His place?”
“Yeah, I assume so.” She turns the phone so I can see the address. “I’ve done it before—not with him.” She frowns at the screen. “He seems familiar, though. I don’t know. Get dressed, because it’s in thirty minutes.”
My jaw drops. “But I look like shit.”
“It’s fine,” she waves me off. “You’re hot shit. I’ll get your Uber for you. Get dressed. Have a little fun, Lil. Besides, I have plans. I can’t console you all evening.”
“With Parker?”
She shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know. He’s been so hit and miss lately.”
“Hmm,” I eye her. “Well, just be careful, whatever it is you’re doing.”
“Thanks, Mom,” she giggles. “Go.”
“Okay, okay.” I head for my room, my head spinning faster than before. I manage to redo my hair and pull on a pair of black jeans and a white T-shirt. I leave the wig behind this time, letting my natural hair hang in waves.
I throw on a hoodie for good measure in the cold and grab the mask and knife. My stomach churns with excitement as I run my finger along the blade. I wonder if I’ll ever know who CrimsonCuff is.
Or if he’d miss me if I deleted the app.
I bite down on my lower lip, reminding myself of what Alice said. It’s all just hooking up. He’s probably done it a million times, with a million different girls. That thought ignites a low, angry burn in my chest, but I brush it off.
It’s not like I really like him.
He’s just a distraction.
On my way out of my bedroom, I grab my pepper spray, just in case. We are supposedly meeting at his house.
When I make it back to the kitchen, Alice is still sitting at my kitchen bar, staring at her phone. She looks perplexed, but as soon as she notices me, she sets her phone down and smiles.
“Casual, I like it.”
“Thank you.” I smile at her.
“Uber is there downstairs.”
“Got it. Love you,” I give her a half embrace, and she squeezes me back. “Have fun, Liliana. You deserve it.”
The Uber pulls up in front of a middle-class townhouse, and nothing about the area is remarkable at all. I’m not sure why that makes me feel better, but it does.
I put the mask on my face, flip my hoodie up, and then exit the Uber, ignoring the way the driver gives me a weird look. The sun has long disappeared, but the streetlights keep the area aglow.
Just breathe, Liliana.
But I have no idea what he’s going to be like.
Last time, I had to force my hand even to get more than just choked by his dick. I chew the inside of my cheek, suddenly worried I made a mistake.
But before I can turn around, the front door opens.
And there he is.
I swallow the knot in my throat. It’s the first time I’ve really seen him. He’s…intimidating. His frame fills the doorway completely, and his black, matte mask and hoodie is fashioned in the same way as mine.
“Welcome,” his voice distortion echoes in the evening air, sending a chill down my spine.
I slip my fingers into my hoodie, clutching the pepper spray.
Maybe I’ll spray his face in the middle of sex. Or if he tries to kick me out before getting me off.
God, I’m fucked up.
I reach the bottom step, and he steps aside, letting me enter. I eye him warily and then climb the steps, ignoring the scent of his cologne.
And the way the inside of his house smells is strikingly familiar.
I have hooked up with him a few times. That’s all it is.
The door shuts behind me, and I hear the lock engage. My heart jumps to my throat, and a million different possibilities start running through my head.
“Little Killer,” he says, his voice painfully soft as I take in the living room, which is bare to a fault. This guy doesn’t believe in décor, I don’t think. “You never replied to me. I think that’s grounds for punishment.”
I close my eyes, squeezing my lids together tightly. “The message didn’t send.”
“I highly doubt that.” His hands are on my jeans before I can anticipate him. Cold air meets my pussy within seconds, and I feel the swipe of his hands between my legs. “You’re already wet for me.”
“I—”
The fullness of his cock comes from nowhere, and I let out a scream, barely able to stay standing as he ruthlessly stretches me, forcing me open. I grab for anything in front of me to steady myself, ending up digging my nails into the black leather of his couch.
“You little, fucking slut,” he growls behind me, pounding into me over and over.
My pussy stays slick for him, but the sensation is almost too much for me to bear. Tears build up in my eyes as he gets rougher, his hand colliding with my ass cheek. I let out a scream, the pain pushing my limits.
And pissing me off.
I open my mouth to tell him to stop when the sensation of something against my asshole has me freezing. I catch my breath, my thighs tensing as he slows.
“I want this tonight,” he says above me. “And maybe that should be the punishment.”
“Oh,” slips from my lips as he presses a finger in. His cock stays buried in my pussy, as he stretches my asshole.
“One more,” he retreats, and then forces it open even further. I grit through the pressure, squeezing my eyes shut. “You’re a good little cumslut.” He spits on his now three fingers, and I cry out at the way it burns, almost unbearably.
Fight back. Tell him no, Liliana.
But I can’t move, frozen in place as I let CrimsonCuff fucking dominate me. I breathe through the pressure, hardly noticing as he pulls out of my pussy.
“You’re being such a submissive little killer,” he grunts, and then, in one big thrust, my ass is filled with him.
“Fuck!” I let out a gut-wrenching scream, echoing off the walls of the living room. Anger blooms in my chest, tears streaming down my face.
Fuck him. Fuck this guy.
His hips thrust into me. “You’ve got the tightest ass I’ve ever felt,” he groans above me, his movements just as rough as before.
My breaths come out labored, in time with his, and the pain slowly shifts to a different feeling—one of arousal.
And I don’t want him to stop.
I push my hips back into him, beckoning him deeper inside of me. He groans behind me, his body entirely pinning me to the couch now. My pussy aches, my clit begging to be stimulated so I can come, too.
“Touch me,” I plead, my voice cracking. “Please.”
He acts as though he doesn’t hear me for a moment, and the familiar surge of anger comes back. However, before I can beg for it again, his arm reaches around between my legs, giving me exactly what I need.
“Oh my, oh my God,” I cry out as my orgasm crashes around me, pulsing through my core and ass as he slows, his own release bearing down on him.
“Oh fuck, Liliana,” he moans as he fills my ass.
I squeeze my eyes shut as he finishes, and it’s only once he completely stills behind me that it registers.
Liliana.
He said my fucking name.
Holy fucking shit!