Chapter 42 #2
“Sure.” He waves his hand toward the bathroom. “But don’t keep me waiting.”
Don’t worry, buddy, I want to get this done and over with as fast as I can.
Once inside the bathroom, I lock the door and grab my cell phone from my purse. Opening up my messages, I text the group chat.
Me
ETA????
Jasper
Ten minutes out. Are you okay?
Me
I’m fine, just hurry. This place is a dump, and I don’t think Roscoe is into foreplay. I don’t know how long I can stall him for.
Jasper
The cops will get there before we do.
Me
Okay. See you soon.
Jasper
Nola, if he touches you, kill the motherfucker.
Sylas
Wait, I thought you said no killing? If that was the case, we could be having a lot more fun with this.
Jasper
If he fucking puts his hands on my woman, then I want the asshole dead!
Me
You got it boss ;) Gotta go. See you soon. Love you!
I clear out my phone messages—just in case this asshole wants to check it—and turn on the water to the sink to drown out any sounds.
Putting my phone back into my purse, I grab my Butterfly Killer mask.
“I’m going to miss you,” I sigh sadly, kissing the forehead.
“I should have made another. Sadly, it’s too late for that.
Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.
” Placing it under the sink, I grab the other items. A Polaroid camera, not mine because I doubt this guy would own a pink one, but I bought the same one in white.
And a box with a butterfly in it.
This isn’t exactly how we had it planned. We were supposed to be going back to Roscoe’s place, and I was going to plant all of this in his house somewhere, but plans changed, and I’m doing the best with what I’m given.
Not wanting to make him come looking for me, I shut the water off and head back into the main room.
He’s waiting there with his coat off, tossed onto the bed. He starts to work the buttons on his white shirt open.
“On the bed,” he barks, and any ounce of kindness, not that he was really oozing with it, is gone.
“Oh,” I laugh. “We’re getting right to it then?”
“I don’t want to hear you fucking speak unless it’s you begging me to stop,” he chuckles. “And even then, there’s no point.”
Uhhh. Okay, that’s a red flag. So is his plan to just rape me then?
If I get on that bed, he’s going to pin me down and try to fuck me. And I’ll respond by chopping his cock off.
That's what I’d hope to do, but this man is big, and he could easily overpower me, even if I have a knife.
I’m not going to let that happen.
“You don’t even know my name,” I laugh, trying to buy some time. “I’m Taylor.”
“I don’t give a shit what your name is. You said you wanted to be fucked tonight, so get on the bed like a good little whore and let me give you what you want.”
Degradation is hot as fuck when my guys do it to me. This guy? Makes me wanna slice out his tongue.
Ignoring the anger inside me, I place my bag on the table and shuffle my way over to the bed.
As I climb on, I die a little on the inside because this bed fucking smells.
The things I do for love.
I’m so retiring after this.
He stands at the end of the bed, a dark hunger in his eyes. “What are you doing?” I ask as he starts to take his dick out.
“Fucking you,” he chuckles.
“I still have my clothes on.”
“I don’t need you naked to use your slutty cunt.” He grins, kneeling down onto the bed.
I can’t help it, and I look down, but I wish I didn't. I have to bite my lip to keep myself from laughing. Because, oh my god, this man might be big on the outside, but his dick? No wonder he’s so angry during sex, his cock is the length of a mini Coke can with the girth of a hot dog.
And no, not a jumbo dog, a regular-sized one.
He probably has to pound into them to even feel anything. I’d feel bad for the fucker if he wasn’t a piece of shit.
“You know what…” I say. “Fuck this shit.”
“What?” He narrows his eyes at me.
“There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near me with that teenie weenie.”
He lets out an angry growl. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” he roars.
Change of plans because this man is about to kill me. No time to wait for the cops, and I don’t wanna kill him. I mean, I do, but I’d rather see him go down for my crimes and get the guys to set up his murder in jail or something later.
Plus, I’m kind of unhinged and just came up with a plan that could really sell this whole Roscoe is the Butterfly Killer thing.
Grabbing the knife from its holster on my inner thigh, I watch as his eyes flash with surprise.
He thinks I’m about to attack him, so when I bring the knife up and ram it into my arm instead, he’s taken off guard.
“Please!” I scream. “No. No. Don’t do this. I beg you. Don’t hurt me!”
“What the fuck are you doing?” He takes a step back, staring down at me like I lost my mind. I mean, I might have.
The blinding pain is dulled by the thrill and rush of adrenaline. I pull the blade out and ram it back into my arm again. Don’t worry, it’s the one without the tattoo. I’d never want to risk ruining that.
“Stop it!” he shouts. “You’re fucking crazy.”
“Don’t kill me. I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t kill me.” I start to sob, for real, because ouch, this fucking hurts.
“Give me that fucking knife,” he demands as I bring it down and stab myself in the thigh.
“No!” I cry out. “Please, stop.”
He reaches for the knife, pulling it out of my thigh, right as the door flies open.
“NOPD!” someone shouts. “Put your hands up!”
Roscoe does as he’s told and raises his hands, still holding the bloody knife.
“You’re under arrest."
“This isn’t what it looks like. This crazy bitch did this to herself,” he yells as five men tackle him to the ground.
He’s claiming that he’s innocent, that he’s being set up, that he didn’t do this, but no one is listening.
“Are you okay?” an officer asks me, then puts in a call for an ambulance.
“It hurts,” I whimper. “It hurts so much,” I start to sob.
“It’s okay,” he reassures, putting pressure on the wounds. “The ambulance is on its way.”
The officers drag Roscoe outside while others file in. They start to search the place, and a few seconds later, one of them comes out of the bathroom. “Boss, you’re going to want to see this.”
An officer follows the other into the bathroom, and I smile inside. They found the stuff. Perfect.