19
I wake drenched in sweat and smooth skin pressed against my naked body. I don’t know what time it is, but I assume it’s close to sunrise since it’s pitch black – the darkness before dawn. I’m cocooned in their bodies, and my skin is overheating this warm morning. I lie here listening to their breaths and run the back of my hand along an arm draped over my chest, sticky with sweat. Whose arm it belongs to, I’m not entirely sure.
I need to move from their hot grasp to cool down and splash some cold water over my face, but I don’t want to wake the sleeping giants. I stared at the ceiling, mesmerized as the blackness faded to dim light. As dawn arrived, the familiar sounds of steady footsteps coming up the stairs pulled me out of my daze.
He pauses at my door, which has become routine, as if he is considering tapping on the wood or listening to see if I’m awake. He moves on, and my heart is pulled with him to the end of the hall where his bedroom is. I imagine him unfastening his belt, pulling it loose, then unbuttoning his shirt to slide into an empty, cold bed.
I sit upright as limbs fall off me and clamber over smooth bodies to reach the floor. My body is naked, worn, and used but wonderfully satisfied. I reach for my shorts and T-shirt and throw them on, then poke my head out of my room to gaze down at Gabe’s closed door. I skirt across the hall to the bathroom to pee, deciding to tap on Gabe’s door after I’m done. I’d need an excuse for interrupting him, and I thought the best option would be to thank him for dinner last night. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Then maybe he’ll invite me into his bed. Yeah, right, Rae. He can see his son and Blake’s vehicles up the drive, so he’ll know where they are. Therefore, he’s unlikely to invite me in after I sucked his son’s cock. Not that he would know the details of what I did with his son, and hopefully, he won’t ask.
Once done, I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and swing the door open, slamming into a smooth naked body, raven messy hair, sexy as hell, wearing only a pair of tight dark blue boxers.
“Hey, sweetheart, we’ll leave in an hour after I’ve made you breakfast,” Blake says in a husky and sultry voice.
“Okay,” I reply. “Eggs. Poached. On toast.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes before shutting the bathroom door on me.
My focus naturally gravitates to the door at the end of the hall, but it doesn’t seem right to go there. Instead, I grab a clean towel and fresh clothes and wait for Blake to finish in the bathroom before I jump into the shower.
It’s only me and Blake at the breakfast table because Cormac had to leave for swim training, but spending time alone with him and with Cormac is nice.
Ignoring the pinching in my groin, I park my backside on a bar stool while Blake works his magic on the grill. It was a good night of fucking and the first time I’ve been pleasure by two men at once, but my body does feel a little drained and worn.
“See, this is what we’re gonna do,” Blake starts with his back turned, flipping eggs, even though I requested poached, but was half-joking when I said it. There’s wholegrain toast on a plate, and I grab one, place it on my plate, and start buttering it. “Since you have no experience with a firearm, we’ll have a session in the shooting range, then head out of town, and I’ll set up cans on the fence for you to hit at a longer distance. Does that sound good to you?”
“Sure,” I reply. “As long as we’re not trespassing on someone’s property.”
“You can leave the details to me, alright?” he replies pertly, and I know he’s up to no good again.
He places a plate of fried eggs and bacon on toast before me, and my stomach rumbles with hunger. “Sure looks good for poached eggs,” I smile to sense his reaction.
“Poached eggs are for normies, sweetheart,” he croons as nothing can touch him, and he has the world at his feet. Yep, Blake has inherited some hellishly charming genes from his ma or pa, even though they abandoned him when he was a little boy. “Girls who kill need fat to sustain their blood lust.”
“I’d hardly call it blood lust, Blake,” I argue, picking up my fork. “When I’ve ticked off each man from my list, I won’t be killing another single soul after that.”
“We’ll see,” he grunts, pulling up a stool beside me with a plate piled with hashbrowns, crispy bacon, toast, fried eggs, and sliced tomato.
“We will not see. I have no desire to go on a killing spree,” I strike back because I want to make this point clear. My murders have a purpose and are not random or out of blood lust joy. “I’m making a career out of this.”
“It’s good money,” he furrows his brow, looking innocent, which contradicts the words dropping from his kissable mouth.
“How would you know?” then it dawns on me. How could I forget? “Smiler. He pays you to knock people off? Don’t tell him I’m interested in doing that; besides…you don’t look like you’re living a rich life. You live in an apartment above a garage and drive an old pick-up truck you modernized.”
He screws his face up. “I can‘t get used to you referring to him as Smiler. It’s kinda…” he puffs his cheeks out, “sounds like an animation character or something.”
“Reminds me of one of the Batman villains,” I reply.
“That’s the Joker. Or are you meaning the Riddler?” he snorts amusedly. “I guess when you look at it like that, Smiler suddenly becomes a little freaky.”
“He is a little freaky,” I munch on my food, enjoying each salty mouthful. “Not that I’ve ever met him or want to meet him, but ah…” I clear my throat. “He leaves a single rose stem, so I wonder if he watches us when we clean up the bloody mess he leaves us.”
A shadow casts over Blake’s face as he places his fork on the plate and sips his coffee. “So…he’s seen you?” he asks as his gaze is focused on the kitchen cabinet for some strange reason.
“I don’t know,” I reply cautiously, uncomfortable by his sudden change in temperament. “I mean…I have no idea who leaves the rose stem at the house or why they do it. But there is always a fresh stem on the table in the kitchen so that it may be one of his lackeys.”
He nods slowly, his gaze seeming distant, still staring at the kitchen cupboard as if a hundred and one things are flipping over in his mind. “He’s not a man you want to meet face to face, though, Rae.”
I chuckle. “I know…as I’ve said…I’ve seen the mess he makes after he’s knocked someone off,” I reply as my nerves wound up due to this newborn sinisterness.
“You should’ve told this to me before,” he mumbles and begins eating again.
“What difference does it make?” I enquire, wishing I could open his skull to see his thinking. “As I said, there’s no note on it, and Z and I don’t touch it, let alone bring it home.”
He relaxes a little. “Okay,” he resigns, bites a strip of bacon, and chews thoughtfully. “Boss has some strange tastes.”
I snort. “You think? Leaving a smiley face drawn in blood is…yeah, a little odd,” I reply sarcastically.
“The thing is, though, Rae, I’ve been told that he never does the killings himself,” he explains as he darkly scrutinizes my plate to ensure I’m eating. “He has men that he pays to do it for him.”
“I’m not surprised,” I reply as the distinct scent of metallic blood enters my senses and turns my stomach a little. “It’s hard to describe the smell of that much blood and piss and feces...”
Blake’s fingers find my forearm, and he affectionately brushes along the skin. “Maybe you should quit,” Blake suggests.
“Nah, I can’t leave Z in the lurch like that,” I answer swiftly because it’s not an option. “Besides, it’s good money.”
“If you ever need money-”
“No,” I stop him in his tracks. “I won’t take money from you.”
His entire face lights up when he grins, becoming extremely warm and likable, a magnet for women of every creed and age, which is probably why his thieving career has succeeded. “Stubborn,” he swallows, then leans over to kiss my cheek. “Pretty girl. But I wasn’t just talking about me. I was talking about the detective. He’s packing a pretty penny and could help you if needed.”
“I’m fine,” I answer sharply, so he’ll get the message loud and clear and never ask me again.
“The offer is there if you need it,” he asserts.
Eager to change the subject, I return to my favorite hobby, solving the mystery surrounding Det. Gabe Bernardi. “He must be lonely, don’t you think?”
“Who?” Blake frowns as he watches me shake salt on the fried eggs. “Gabe?”
“Yeah,” I reply cautiously, so it doesn’t seem that I’m overly keen.
“If Gabe has a woman, he’s done well to keep her a secret. Nah, I think he’s a workaholic,” Blake explains. “Cormac and hunting down paedos is his life.”
“But he’s so…handsome. Such a great catch,” I sigh as I imagine being curled up in his comfortable bed with him beside me. “Surely, there must be a woman he works with or…I don’t know. There must be a limit where he decides he doesn’t want to be single anymore.”
“Maybe,” he grunts and shrugs. “I think the man likes being alone after several years of marriage, so she’d have to be something special for him to change his workaholic routine.”
“The night shift?” I assume that’s what he meant.
“Yeah, much of what he does could bring the strongest men down to their knees. He deals with the worst of the worst, so you can imagine he takes that shit home with him mentally, you know.” My sympathy for Gabe increases with every word I say about him, and I decide to do something special for him. I may not be the girl for him, but I’ll try to make his life more pleasant. “Oh, I forgot,” I blurt, almost coughing up my egg.
“Forgot what?” he watches me with great fascination as if I’m an intriguing animal in a zoo enclosure.
“Houseplants. I bought some home to bring color and interest into this house because it’s so dull and lacks personality,” I explain.
“Sounds like you’re making yourself at home,” he states, looking pleased. “You may as well move out of that hovel and stay longer.”
“I don’t want to outstay my welcome. The deal was that I stay until…we’ve completed the list, I think,” I reply with a hint of uncertainty because Gabe doesn’t talk much, and I’m unsure what he wants.
“Well, it’s a nice place to stay, Rae—a great lake view. I doubt Gabe would mind if you stayed indefinitely, but you are safer here than in your apartment, under the roof of a cop. There’s surveillance here, so we’ll be notified if our enemies come knocking,” he explains casually, as if he’s expecting it to happen but is unworried about it.
“Then what do you do? If you’re miles away, and I’m here alone, and one of Blackadder’s men turns up armed and ready to wipe me off the face of the earth, how do you deal with that?” I enquire, curious for the answer.
“Yeah, we really should’ve gone into more details about the security here,” he replies, mopping up egg yolk with his wholegrain toast. “But Gabe’s sure that Blackadder’s crew won’t come knocking because the murders don’t lead back to you.”
“Wait. What?” I snap. “You need to elaborate.”
“The safe room under the house. Gabe will go over it,” he says far too casually, making me angry.
“A safe room? You tell me about that now?” Stress rises in my body, and I drop my fork down heatedly, making a crashing sound as it falls. “My apartment was broken into.”
“Rae, don’t fret. Gabe will go over it,” he croons, trying to calm me down. “He hasn’t done it until now because he didn’t think it was necessary. We’ve got cameras, a direct line to the security firm, and you’ve got a gun and proven that you can look after yourself. It’s difficult to break into this place.”
“Looks pretty easy to me with all these windows. Where’s the alarm? You haven’t given me a code to unlock it,” I point out.
He sips his black coffee. “It locks automatically when you leave and is unlocked when you arrive,” he explains.
“Does this house have a brain? Does this house know it’s me when I roll up the drive?” I ask, perturbed, wondering if he’s joking.
“Yes.”
“How?” I’m confused, but security technology is one area I know little about.
“Face recognition scanner at the front door and other places about the house. You’re already preprogrammed into the computer as ‘friendly,” he replies with a cheeky grin. I’m satisfied, and I drop the conversation. “Although I’d question your friendliness at this moment. Getting a little volatile, sweetheart.”
His charm worked, and I graced him with a smile as my jets cooled and I relaxed.
“Anyway,” he adds, “hurry up and finish breakfast. We’ve got some targets to destroy.”