Chapter 12 Cooper #2
That kind of discipline shouldn’t be sexy. It shouldn’t make my stomach twist with admiration, but I can’t help it. He’s the epitome of everything I shouldn’t be attracted to—he saves people for a living and guts those that deserve it. He’s anarchy with a moral code, a butcher with ethics.
“Yeah, let’s get that sushi,” I manage after a few seconds of silence.
“And some soju,” he says, his hands tremoring on the wheel, his breathing returning to under twenty breaths per minute.
I enjoy the tranquility of the snow fall for a few more minutes as we pull into the Hawaiian restaurant parking lot. Slice of Paradise—the glowing crimson neon sign says that radiates hot pink in the darkness.
“Oh, fuck,” I mutter, as I see the white BMW parked in front.
I look over to him to see a feral grin smacked across his face. “Hope they are enjoying their last supper,” he growls like a grizzly spotting king salmon in the creek.
My stomach flips back and forth. Of course, we aren’t going to be decorating with just one body in Alaska. Might as well make it a baker’s dozen if we are starting this early. The vampires will be awfully pleased with the amount of blood they’ll be sucking up.
“That’s probably just a coincidence, right?” I stutter, not fooling myself with my own words.
He parks the Audi in the back of the lot, killing the lights, like a hawk preparing for the divebomb. “Coincidence? Cooper, I don’t believe in coincidences. Only timing.”
I groan, letting out a massive breath. “But what if she’s a mother?”
“That almost took out a kindergartner?” he quips, his voice dripping with adrenaline.
“She could be having a bad week,” I argue weakly, because apparently, I underestimated my bloodlust. My hands are cold, my pulse fluttering like it’s trying to escape to Hawaii without me.
“Then I’ll make it one to be buried. Maybe she’ll re-take driver’s ed in her reincarnation,” he huffs as we step out of the car.
Through the frosted glass of Slice of Paradise, I see a sole patron. A middle aged-woman, hair in a messy bun, AirPods in, shouting at the waitress about the roll in front of her.
“She won’t be shouting after we finish dinner,” Reed snickers, my feet following in lock.
We step in through the doors, a koi pond greeting us in the center, the waitress sporting a hand on her hip, looking incredibly annoyed. “Ma’am that is the California Roll, it does not come with tuna.”
The woman scoffs, waving her chopsticks in the air. “Well, it should. I personally think it would improve the texture. And why is there is so much rice?”
The waitress blinks, committing to a murderous smirk. “Because… it’s sushi, ma’am.”
The woman gasps. “Well, I’m not paying twenty dollars for white rice and fake crab.”
Reed chuckles beside me. “Now this is why the Quinns took up killing. To rid the world of all the Karens, one entitled comment at a time.”
I snort before I can stop myself. “You may as well run for President. I think there would be lot of bipartisan support behind that platform.”
Reed shrugs, lips curling into that dark, feral smirk that could probably win the election alone. “Why settle for President when I could be Judge, Jury, and Disposer of Bodies?”
“Catchy slogan,” I whisper. “Bit long for a campaign poster, though.”
He leans in to my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “I’ll let my work speak for itself.”
The waitress notices us, dismissing the Karen to her own complaints. “Table for two?” she asks, picking up a pair of menus.
“Yes, ma’am,” Reed replies in a respectful tone.
The sudden shift in his voice throws me off guard. It’s his polite bedside tone—the one that says I could save your life or end it in a single chop, depending on you behave in the next ten seconds.
“Right this way,” the waitress says, her relief dripping through her smile. She leads us toward a corner booth but Reed interrupts her—
“Actually, could we sit next to that peach of a woman over there?”
“Are you sure? She’s a real piece of work,” she mutters.
Reed smiles like a madman. “Perfect. Front row seats, please.”
My stomach somersaults at the idea of causally meeting our next victim. Of course he wants to meet the prey—justify his fantasies before the execution. Perform an interview with our obnoxious Karen. And I can’t help but to feel confused as I dissect the excitement ripping through me.
The waitress hesitates for a moment, unsure of his aim, but she complies. She leads us straight to the booth beside the woman. “Anything to drink?” she asks, sliding the menus across the sticky surface.
I slide in across from him, heart pounding hard enough for him to feel my pulse through the cheap wood.
“Pear Soju, if you have it,” Reed chirps with an unsettling smile.
“Yes, sir,” she nods, stepping away quickly before the Karen can complain some more.
As I try to read through the bountiful sushi options, Karen is grumbling to herself, breaking through the soft Hawaiian music playing in the background. “I asked for extra ginger. This is barely a garnish!” she mutters, stabbing her plate with a fork.
Of course. She can’t even eat sushi with chopsticks. Maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong for the world to spare humanity from her incessant complaints.
Reed’s smile widens, like he sees the wheels turning in my head. “That poor rice, grown to be wasted on a picky demon with a terrible choice in earrings.”
I press my lips together in an attempt to hold back the laughter growing in my throat, which only makes the chuckle slip from my lips.
“Reed, please behave,” I whisper.
“I am. You should see me when I don’t entertain some foreplay beforehand.”
My eyes go wide, a gasp escaping from my mouth. “You consider this foreplay?” I hiss, darting my eyes to the oblivious woman.
Reed’s eyes are peeled to the menu, imagining his roll of choice. “You’re the one turned on by danger, Cooper. I’m just offering you a taste.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“Careful,” he murmurs as smooth as a slash to the jugular. “You wouldn’t want to take the Lord’s name in vain. Not with what I’m planning to do with those lips later.”
“Just do it already,” I taunt. “I’ve been waiting ages for you to make a move.”
“Be careful what you wish for, my little mouse,” he grins.
The waitress returns, interrupting the hardening of my cock and a slight chance of a cardiac emergency. She sets down a frosted bottle of pear soju, and two small glasses. “Any more time with the menus?” she asks.
“No, we’ll take a tray of tuna sashimi and two king rolls,” Reed orders, his voice speaking for both of us.
“Are you sure? That’s a lot of food,” the waitress protests.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he is stuffed tonight,” Reed says, flashing me a savage grin that almost bursts my aorta.
The waitress pauses, cheeks coloring, clearly deciding she doesn’t get paid enough to deal with anyone in this restaurant. “It’ll be out soon.”
I rub a hand over my face, letting out a groan. “You had to say it like that?”
He pours the soju into both of the small glasses. “What? I’m a man of my word.”
“Yeah, I know you are,” I mutter, tossing back another drink of the fruity concoction.
I savor a few moments of silence before the food arrives, drowning out the unbearable complaints and Reed’s smart comments. She sets down the glistening slices of tuna and the two overstuffed king rolls, then vanishes before she can catch another word of our conversation.
The sashimi almost looks too perfect—thin ribbons of red against the white porcelain plates. Reed picks up his chopstick with unmatched steadiness, gracefully swooping up a piece of the raw flesh. “Open up.”
I comply before I can protest, my lungs freezing, the cold fish sliding into my mouth, guided by his smooth motion. It’s salty and kind of sweet—not too disgusting for raw fish. I chew a few more times before swallowing it down my throat, reaching for another sip of soju.
“Thoughts?” he asks.
“Not terrible, but not really my cup of tea,” I say, reaching for the deep-fried prawn on top of the king roll that is glazed with a sweet teriyaki and mayo sauce.
“That’s fair. But you really swallowed it down.”
I nearly choke on the prawn. “You can’t say things like that in public,” I hiss, waving my chopsticks at him.
He grins, eyes flickering with an insatiable hunger. “What? It’s just you, me, and the Karen. She’s practically dead already.”
I snort so hard a bit of rice flies out my nostril. “Such a nasty sense of humor,” I mutter, dabbing my mouth with a napkin.
Reed smirks, completely unfazed. “It’s called doctor’s humor, Cooper. Keeps the mood light.”
“Pretty sure that’s what alcohol is for.”
We continue eating, stuffing our faces as if we haven’t eaten in days. My stomach is nearly bursting after we polish off the first king roll.
Reed exhales contently, leaning back in the booth. “See,” he says, gesturing to an empty plate. “You survived raw fish, public dining, and my personality. That’s three sins conquered in one night.”
“I’m still working through the last one,” I say, poking the remaining roll with my chopsticks. “Your personality is… like sushi with a side of maggots.”
He grins, pleased. “That’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
The waitress reappears, the smell of cigarette following her. “Everything okay here?” she asks.
“Wonderful,” Reed says smoothly, flashing her a smile that brings up a tug of jealousy in my chest. “My compliments to the chef. And my condolences to your patience. Do you mind if we take care of your other patron?”
She snorts before she can stop herself. “Have at it, amigo. I think a kidnapper would pay to return her.”
Reed stands up, handing her a Benjamin from his wallet. “Thanks for your help—we have it from here.” He nods at me to join.