Chapter 6
Chapter six
Jackson
She’s pissed. That is not surprising or unwarranted.
Everyone has always had a certain discontent for me.
My first childhood memory was when my mother blamed me for killing her dog.
Anger seeped through her in such a way that she never looked at me the same again.
And neither did I with her. If she had truly paid attention to the fact that my brother was the one torturing animals, the dog wouldn’t have died.
Or anyone else. Instead, she wove a veil so thick around my brother that no one could see what he truly is.
No one except me. And when I was so close to revealing exactly who he was, he took away everything.
My hands grip the steering wheel of her beater of a car.
I’ve been waiting years to get back at him. Blood means nothing.
I force myself to shift focus away from my demons and to the girl who also would love nothing more than to kill me.
Get in line. I swear to fuck; I know better than to get anyone else involved in my antics, but I’m not willing to see the life leave her eyes yet.
Why? I don’t know except they look too good dilated in fear.
I can only imagine what she will look like while I fuck her.
Wind blows through her hair as she looks out the open passenger window.
The rain has stopped, leaving a need to break up the silence with something else.
I choose the sound of air blowing through the vehicle.
But even that doesn’t have the effect I intended.
Gas fumes float in almost as soon as the windows stay open longer than five minutes.
“We need a different vehicle,” I say, forcing myself to breathe through my mouth instead of my nose.
She shifts her focus to me, eyes narrowing. “I’ll get right on that.”
I glance toward the road before shifting my attention back on her. “No need. I got an old friend who will solve this problem,” I say. Gateley will be happy to catch up and no doubt use this time to try to recruit me back into his growing empire of mafia corruption.
“Probably another murderer,” she mutters while crossing her arms.
A smirk plays on the corner of my lips. I lean over and whisper. “A very selective salesman.”
“Of just cars?”
People, cars, drugs... etc. fucking etc. “No,” I reply, voice stern so that she gets the picture that a change of subject is in order.
Her lips pull tight. Despite her effort in not saying a word, I can sense her need to vocalize a response. Pressure builds from inside the car, the air almost humming with desperation. There’s a shift in her. A new fear she’s fighting against.
The craving to experience her body’s reaction is immense, and I place one hand on top of her chest. Right above her heart.
Thump. Thump. Thump. It beats fast against her ribcage; the sensation causing my dick to get hard against my pants.
She’s right to be scared. Of me. Of my friend.
Of monsters that get locked up only to come back out to play.
While she’s fighting for strength, I am searching for her weaknesses. Examining. Formulating. Her heart betrays her every time I feel the beating beneath my hand.
Madelyn elbows me off and leans against the door, putting as much space as possible between us. Deep breaths escape her throat. “Where are we going now?”
“The first shitty motel we can find.” The type that asks no questions and takes no names. Luckily, being in the mountains has its advantages. There’re usually cheap motels scattered around the area. Or used to be before I got locked up.
My answer is met with silence. Good. The weather is turning bad again, and I don’t need any other distractions. The last thing I want to be looking at her when running off the road. That be a shit way to die. And a pathetic way to get caught.
The windshield wipers scrape along the glass as I turn them on. Rain threatens to turn to sleet as I continue to drive at a slower pace than normal. Lights beam up ahead, signaling the second car we’ve met tonight. Stupid motherfuckers can’t stay off the road and out of my way.
My knuckles turn white from clenching the wheel. I suck in a breath. How easy it would be to run them off the road. Impulses. Impulses. Just when the car meets us, the girl sticks an arm out and waves. “Help!” she screams into the night.
Headlights illuminate the soaked road, signaling they see her attempts. “Fuck.” I snatch her by the collar and pull her to me. “Get down.”
The car attempts to turn around only to get stuck on the shoulder of the road.
My right foot presses down on the brake.
“Whatever your escape plan is, get it out of your head.” My window screeches as I roll it down.
Pointing the gun toward the stalled car, I pull the trigger.
Pop. Pop. The bullet hits exactly where I intended it to go through the driver’s side window and into the driver’s forehead.
Madelyn cries out and struggles against me.
I let up on the brake and allow her to slide back into her seat. Once we are a couple of miles from the other car, I aim the gun at her head.
She looks at me, mouth trembling. Even more reason to keep the gun on her. “You keep this up, you will more than double my previous body count.”
A single tear slides down her cheek and lands somewhere on her shirt.
If she’s looking for pity, she won’t get it from me.
I drive on with one hand on the wheel, the other holding the gun.
My jaw clenches at the thought of her trying to get away.
“Didn’t I tell you are mine?” My eyes narrow, waiting for her to speak.
“Yes,” she whispers so quietly I can barely hear.
“And the games I play involve what? Tell me,” I order as a new scenario of how I am going to punish her comes to my head.
“Revenge…murder,” she answers while looking at the gun.
I smile. “And?”
“Sex.” Her head leans on the window and away from me. Apparently, the mention of fucking makes her less concerned about the weapon pointed at her face. Still, I keep it in place.
I nod. “Yes. Trying to escape equals one or the other. Sometimes both. In this case, you got the driver killed. “
An interstate sign catches my attention as my headlights hit it.
Lodging options are available at the next exit.
I tsk. “But it just doesn’t seem enough of a punishment for you.
” Lowering the gun, I graze it along her thigh.
“Are you hoping to feel this in your sweet little cunt?” I edge it closer to her center.
Her hand reaches for it. “Fuck you,” she whispers. Her cheeks flush seemingly at the idea of fucking me.
The corners of my mouth twitch. “You will.” I ease the gun away at the same time she makes another swipe at it. And soon, love.