7. - – Cassidy
CHAPTER SEVEN
-
CASSIDY
Tyson and I laugh into the wee hours of the morning, sharing drinks and stories of our lives before we fell into the same friend circle.
I had to shut my phone off. More unknown calls were starting to irritate me.
I know it’s Ben. There’s no one else it could be.
And I’m over being afraid, completely done with it.
I’ve taken lives before. Ben is no different.
He crossed the line, he’s a predator who thinks he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. No, little bitch. I’m the fucking wolf.
“He’s here, I know it. The car out front is the one he said he has. I have a big favor to ask.” I try to remain calm and collected as I think of a plan on the fly.
Tyson grabs my hand, “Whatever it is, and I do mean anything, I’ve got you.”
“Good. I need you to pretend to leave. Take my keys and fob. There’s a door inside the parking garage that will lead you back inside the building. Watch your mirrors. Once he sees you go, I guarantee that he’ll try to get in right away. I need you outside my door in case shit goes south.”
Tyson smiles and kisses me quickly, “Not a problem. I’ll circle back the minute he’s inside and run back up. I’m leaving Java here, though. She’ll know what to do if you’re in danger.”
“Stay outside the door. If I need help, I’ll say thunder cock. You stay hidden until and unless I say it. Got it?” I’m not used to giving orders, but it seems to be working.
Tyson kisses me again. “I’m so fucking turned on. Go get him. I’ve got your back. Can we kill this fucker tonight?”
I flush, wondering what he knows, “Go, please. I’ll answer your questions later.” I shove Tyson gently towards the door as he tells Java to guard. She shifts to be on alert, watching me and the loft.
I open the locked chest in my living room to grab a syringe full of sedative.
Perks of working with animals: I always have medication on hand.
I logged a single dose of xylazine that I didn’t actually need and dumped half the syringe before storing it today.
It might kill him, but I hope it doesn’t.
A gentle knock echoes through the brick loft, and I’m impressed when Java remains completely silent but ready to attack.
I tuck the capped syringe into my back pocket and open the door, pretending to be surprised when I see Ben standing in front of me.
He doesn’t quite look like his pictures.
He’s much shorter in person, nearly bald, and carries a lot more weight than his pictures portrayed.
“Ben? It’s really late. What are you doing here?” I feign ignorance and an innocent voice.
“You haven’t answered my calls at all, Cassidy. I was so worried about you. Come here,” he enters my apartment to hug me, and I allow it.
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about me at all.” I sneak my free hand into my pocket and inject him in the neck with the syringe of xylazine. He maintains a moment of strength, punching me across the cheek as he falls face-first onto my floor.
I place the syringe into a small towel and crush it under my boot to dispose of in the garbage disposal later. I haven’t gotten away with everything I’ve done because I was stupid with evidence.
“Hey, thunder cock. C’mon in,” I say with a satisfied smile.
Tyson opens the door and scans the room, looking me over and landing on the loser on the floor. He gives me an approving nod, providing me with the green light I needed.
“Color me impressed, Dragon. What now?” His face is lit up with intrigue and desire.
I smile, “Now I call my friend and let her know that I’m bringing her a friend. My truck or yours? We’re taking a road trip.”
“Mine has liners through it. Be easier clean up. I’ll help. How much time before he wakes up?” I expected my new love interest to call the police immediately, but he wants to help me instead? Can anyone say jackpot?
“I’m not sure. Xylazine isn’t exactly human-tested or approved. It’ll either kill him or he’ll wake up in three to five business days. The last person I dosed with it died. So, this is all experimental.”
He nods, looking for something to cover Ben up with. “Not your first rodeo, huh?”
I shrug, grabbing a leather jacket from my closet to put on and pulling a large blanket from the top shelf of my hall closet. “Apparently, it’s not yours either. You’re pretty nonchalant about this.”
Tyson lifts Ben from the floor by his arms, holding him up so that I can wrap the blanket around his shoulders.
“There, our drunk friend just really needs to get home. No big deal. I’ll have to move his car, though. That’s super sus.”
“I’ll handle that part, find his keys,” Tyson doesn’t struggle at all to hold up Ben’s short frame.
I cringe and fish into Ben’s coat pockets, hearing a jingle and finally slipping my fingers through a key ring.
Tyson trades my keys for Ben’s before we shuffle slowly out the door and into the parking garage.
It’s the middle of the night, so we aren’t expecting problems. None of the security cameras in the garage work, they’re all for show, the slumlord who owns the place put up to convince the tenants that he was doing a good job in keeping us safe.
I do my best to help Tyson load Ben into his truck and put his seat belt on.
Tyson opens the glove compartment and pulls out a handgun and a half-faced skull mask.
“Definitely not my first rodeo. Wait here. I’ll handle the car and be back in five minutes,” Tyson kisses me and runs off towards the pedestrian exit of the garage.
“Looks like it’s just you and me, fuck head.
What should we talk about? The women you’ve assaulted or how long you’ve stalked me for?
” I realize that he won’t respond, but it makes it slightly more entertaining for me.
“Maybe we should talk about how you chose the wrong woman to fuck with, this time?”
I grip the wheel and call Sumiko. She’s a night owl, so I’m positive that she’s awake.
“Hello, my favorite hunter, are we placing an order or bringing one in?” Sumiko always has the most rhythmic, beautiful voice.
“Bringing one in. I’ll need a few days with this one, it caused me a lot of trouble.” We use various codes for our extracurricular activities.
“Not a problem at all, love. I’ll ensure the slaughterhouse is fully prepared for you. How long until you’re here with your catch?”
“Twenty minutes, give or take. I’m sorry, very short notice for this one.”
“I’ve got you. Many of your favorite items are still set out in the house for you. I just want to make sure that you’ll have everything you may need.”
We hang up just in time for Tyson to jog back to his truck. I slip into the passenger seat, and he starts up the truck, following my directions to get to the farm.
“So, your friend? They’re cool?” He asks warily.
“Sumiko is the best. She’s the reason I started… Taking action. Someone hurt her badly, and then he asked me out. I did what needed to be done and let her get her revenge.”
“I’ve been at it for six years, but I don’t have many under my belt. Just two. The man who murdered my sister and the man who raped a good friend of mine. She’s a mutual, Chev.”
I slept his arm, “You’re the bugger who snaked that one from me? I wanted him!”
He chuckles, “She confided in me. I felt like I had to do something before he hurt anyone else.”
I agree, glad that one of the people who cares about her took care of it. We pull into the driveway of Sumiko’s farm and see her waiting on the porch. She’s gorgeous, with long black hair, dark skin, and curves to die for. She smiles and claps her hands as Tyson picks a spot to park.
“Nice to meet the man my girl trusts with this shit. I’m Sumiko, but you can call me Miko. A friend of Cass’s is a friend of mine. Cass knows the way. Holler if you need anything!” She shoves a stretcher towards us and turns to leave, but I stop her.
“Don’t you want to know who I have?” Her curiosity stops her in her tracks.
“Since you’re offering,” she stands on her tiptoes to try to catch sight of who Tyson is hauling from his truck.
“This bastard has been stalking me. He’s the one who trashed my loft.”
Her eyebrows raise, “Then he’s probably the one who posted those videos of you to Chatter.”
I blink, “Videos? What are you talking about?”
She pulls out her phone, “I texted you, but figured you were busy with your new boy toy. There’s AI videos of you all over Chatter. Your face, different bodies. I know they’re not you. I thoroughly examined them before I reported them.”
I see a few of the clips, and they’re definitely not me. I feel a sense of violation that I didn’t expect to feel. He used images of my face to create pornography, videos, and photos. Pure, burning hot rage consumes me. “This fucker is going to suffer.”