3. Carter
Chapter 3
Carter
M y black-gloved hand splayed across the living room window overlooking her backyard, the sun dimming behind the trees.
Her soft yellow dress swayed against her knees as she wept in silence, causing me to squint as my studious gaze lingered on her plump breasts, squeezed between her arms, then fell to her swaying hips as though she were rocking a sleeping babe.
Did she long for a child?
Is this why she wept?
Or was it something more afflicting?
A smile curved over my lips, a soothing heat hitting my belly.
June unzipped the back of her floral dress and walked into an adjoining room, her window higher but not out of reach for my tall frame.
I leaned against her home with my shoulder and peered in, her milky white skin appearing as she dropped the dress onto the floor with a fluidity that mirrored a cascading waterfall.
My cock thickened as she bent over, picked the dress up off the floor, then tossed it into the laundry bin.
The skinny thread of string between her butt cheeks disappeared between her thighs, concealing a piece of her I’d once dreamed of possessing.
Gone was the desire to shower her in raptured bliss.
June reached behind the bedroom door, took a robe off the hook, and turned around the corner into the hallway.
My brows lowered as I stared at the perfection in her room—the dust-free tabletop beside the window, the stain-free carpet, the bed made with a cream duvet that matched the curtains throughout the house. She had a perfect little life, living in utter happiness, despite the strange display of woe-is-me behavior in her living room.
A text lit up her screen, and I peered over the windowsill.
Bailey
Java Bliss is open. Let’s grab a decaf at 7 and forget about …
The text cut off, and the screen darkened.
I spun on the balls of my feet as the water rocked through the pipes, causing a knocking throughout the exterior walls. I made my way to my car parked two blocks over. Slipping inside, I drove to the bar, the Golden Pour, and stole a barstool.
Liquor and polished wood vapors hung in the air, intermingling with the patron’s hushed conversations and clinking glasses. Dim lighting cast vast shadows across the wooden floor, cloaking the corners of the establishment in darkness.
“It’s been a long time, Carter.”
A hand came down on my shoulder, and I shrugged, causing his hand to fall away. I nodded. “Paul.”
He sat beside me, and my heart rate picked up as the elder leaned his elbow on the bar top. A hair paste kept his salt and pepper hair to the side, the lines from the comb-like perfected cracks on a sidewalk.
“I’m glad to see you’re attending this year.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
He adjusted the rolled-up sleeves of his white button-down shirt and motioned for the bartender, who walked over. “Same thing as him.”
The bartender raised a brow and swung his gaze to mine as he braced both hands against the edge of the bar’s surface.
“Whiskey on the rocks—“
“Oh God. Nevermind.” Paul chortled. “I’ll have mine neat.”
“I never got to thank you for the private charter.”
The bartender nodded, grabbed two tumblers, and shoveled ice into mine. He poured the liquor, then slid them across the bar toward us.
“No problem at all.” Paul maneuvered his tumbler closer to him with a slight twist and turn. “Did you take my advice and pick a good guest this year?” The corner of his mouth turned up as his gaze shifted over to me. “The quality of the guests determines how fun the party is,” he said with a slight lilt to his voice.
I pulled my drink to my lips, savored the smoky flavors, and then swallowed as I nodded, allowing the smooth liquor to coat my throat.
The human body was a complex organism, yet so easy to eradicate. After tomorrow, there would be no more June, a kindergarten teacher loved among her peers—only a pale corpse void of blood and maybe a limb or two.
Her death would be an art form no one could replicate.
“I do.” I gulped my whiskey and placed the glass on the surface, then checked the time on my Rolex, a gift from my predecessor when I stepped into his role.
“Who?” Paul pitched me a curious look. “Is it personal? I brought my first ex-wife ten years ago and offered her to everyone willing to touch her and then slit her throat. Blood sprayed everywhere like in that scene from Blade. You know the one?” He bumped me with his elbow, then shuddered. “I wouldn’t touch that whore with a ten-foot cow prod.”
Creative .
The nine pints of blood she’d lost would have spread far and wide across the floor, pooling like a dark, glistening lake. His wife would have passed out long before the last drop drained, slipping into a silent, eerie death.
Far more peaceful than June’s.
“It is for me, although I’m sure she doesn’t remember me very well.”
My guts twisted like a washing machine on agitate.
I drop to my knees, cradling Amber’s body against me.
“Unrequited crush?”
I sucked in a breath. “What?”
“Is she a woman who doesn’t love you?”
I scoffed. “No.”
June was stunning, even more so than in high school, with those hazel eyes, flowing brunette hair, and a body that could make a man forget himself.
But looks were deceiving.
“Then why her?”
I swallowed the last of the whiskey, eyeing the ball of ice rotating inside. “She killed someone I knew.”
Paul choked. “Jesus. That took a turn.” He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed, my gaze tipping to his hand before he dropped it. “How come she isn’t in prison?”
“There weren’t any eyewitnesses…until now.” I waved at the bartender, who fixed me another drink and pushed it my way.
“A witness?”
“Supposedly.” I cocked my head to the side and sipped the next tumbler. “Two years ago, someone started sending me tidbits of information. A piece of a picture, a snippet of a video. Until it all came together a week and a half ago, revealing the culprit.”
“And did you take this to the police?”
“I tried.” Liquid filled my mouth, the end of the tumbler coming too fast. “They wouldn’t accept it because they couldn’t determine how it was obtained. Something about being inadmissible in courts.”
“That’s some shit luck there.”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “I think the person wanted me to end her tomorrow. I think they knew who I was and what I was a part of.”
Paul’s face slackened, then narrowed as he leaned into me. “Why do you say that?”
“It may be a secret society, but everyone seems to know of its existence.”
“Members aren’t public knowledge.”
“It’s just a theory, Paul. Relax.”
Paul slapped the top of the bar, a joyous smile stretching across his lips—the rapid change in his demeanor gave me whiplash. “Well, tomorrow, you get to be the judge, jury, and executioner.”
I breathed in through my nose and nodded, exhaling with puffed cheeks. “I need it. More than anything else.” I checked my watch again .
His mouth twitched as he held his glass up. “To justice.”
“To justice.” I clinked my empty glass against his, paid my tab as he finished his first glass, and climbed off the bar stool. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Hey, before I forget.” He dug into his pocket. “Put this in the rental. It’ll open the gates.”
He dropped the little round device into my palm, and I shoved it into my pocket with a nod.
Paul chuckled. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
Scoffing, I turned my back to him and strode out of the bar, walking for a few blocks until Java Bliss appeared across the street.
June sat with Bailey, her tan cardigan falling off her shoulder, her long brunette hair pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck.
She beamed as I stood on the street, staring into her perfect little life. An irritation dug under my skin like a bullet fragment working its way to the surface.
Why does she deserve happiness?
I watched her smile, laugh, frown, and sulk in silence with her friend, experiencing a wave of human emotion over an hour before she waved goodbye.
Here we go.
Exhaustion lingered in my bones, my twenty-four-hour day, bleeding into a solid thirty. My heart rate quickened as I jogged across the street and shoved my shoulder into hers as she looked down at her phone .
She spun in a full circle as she fell, then landed on the hard cement with a thud.
June groaned, her phone skidding across the sidewalk, the remnants of her coffee spilling over her clothes and ground.
“Oh God. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Her skinned knee and elbow bloomed a vibrant red.
I stooped and grabbed her upper arm as she tried to stand. “Here, let me help you.”
“I’ve got it.” She bounced up, the top of her skull crashing into my chin, causing my teeth to jar.
June groaned again, falling back to the ground as I relinquished my hold, her hand touching the top of her head.
Standing taut, I gripped my chin, closed my eyes, and breathed. Ire burned deep, her sweet perfume spreading the poisonous desire throughout my system.
Just end her now.
“Just stand back. We’re going to end up killing each other.” A blight of laughter snapped my eyes open.
“What?” I cocked a brow.
June rolled to her knees, hissing as her abrasion connected with the cement, and then stood a fair distance from me. “I just mean we can’t seem to stop hurting one another.”
Understatement of the century.
Our eyes locked, and the air thickened and stilled.
I can end her now…
And risk prison…
She tilted her head at me, her eyes slightly narrowing. “You kind of look familiar.”
“Really?”
She recognizes me?
“Yeah.” June nodded and chewed on her plush bottom lip. “You look like someone I used to know.” She brushed off dirt from her butt.
I shook my head. “Maybe in another life.”
June lifted her eyebrows. “Another life? That sounds like something he’d say.” She leaned in, her eyes widening with a slight smile. “What did you say your name was?”
Her perfume permeated around me, hardening my dick and clenching my fists.
Bbbbrriiiinnnggg.
She jerked as though she’d been struck and dug into her pocket—her phone falling to the ground. “Shoot.” June bent over and rubbed the screen against her black stockings. “I better get going. I’m really sorry for bumping into you.” With a twist, she put distance between us, her phone to her ear. “I can’t hear you. Say that again? Tomorrow? Are you sure—“
My stomach twisted and churned as she walked away from me.
She was in my grasp, her flesh in my hands, and I’d let her walk away.
Yes, tomorrow, June...