Chapter 10 Aiden
AIDEN
The pet shop is as bright and colourful as a rainbow; it stinks of wet dog, and the screeching of the birds makes me want to gouge my eyes out.
“Can I help you?” one of the employees asks, approaching me in the aisle.
I glance around, unsure of what to ask for, so I just say the two words, “guinea pigs.”
“You’d like to buy one?” The girl asks, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “We only sell them in pairs as they’re social animals and thrive with companionship.”
“No,” I respond, shaking my head. “She has some already. I just want to get some supplies for them.” The girl nods understandingly and leads me to a section filled with guinea pig cages, food, and toys. “All this for a rat?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, they’re not rats,” she clarifies, chuckling. “Guinea pigs are small rodents that make great pets.” The girl smiles and points out the clear pens where the guinea pigs and rabbits are kept.
I walk over and look down, unimpressed by the small creatures scurrying around. “It’s a rat without a tail,” I mutter under my breath.
“Would you like to hold one?”
“No thanks.” I’m not gunning for a tetanus shot.
I pick up toys, bedding, treats, and pellets for the scampering little shits and load the car before returning for four extra-large bags of cat litter.
“This is for me.” I smile at the same girl who served me the guinea pig supplies.
She mirrors my smile, asking, “Cash or card?”
“Cash,” better not leave any suspicious paper trails. Go cashless, me hole. So they can pin me for what I buy in the garden centre and pet shops? I think. The fuck. Not.
* * *
I found this one on my run this morning, hiding in the bushes opposite a playground with his todger in hand.
I needed this; I needed a release. I’m so happy that I’m doing a Barry Keoghan.
I really should not have watched Saltburn last night, “Murder on the Dancefloor” has been stuck in my head since.
“If you think you’re getting away, I will prove you wrong,” I sing as I slide up next to the bench in the warehouse.
We’re even now, we’re both bollock naked; the only difference is that I’ll still have mine attached in an hour.
I pinch his eyelashes and tug them up lightly, drawing the lid away from the eye. “Hear me when I say….”
The gag in his mouth muffles his screams.
“You’d want to stop shaking, mate,” I laugh, peeling away the eyelid and plopping it into the plastic bag on my right.
“I almost took your eye out.” I pluck up the next eyelid and repeat the process.
“Have you seen Saltburn? Thoughts on the bathtub scene?” He pukes into his gag and begins to choke.
“Yeah, that seems to be the general consensus,” I remove the gag to ensure he doesn’t choke before I’m done with him.
“It was the raspberry kisses that got me,” I continue, stuffing the gag back into his mouth and securing it tightly.
“Overall, a great movie, though, no? A little fucked up, but I have somewhat of a high tolerance for twisted content.”
My phone rings from across the room, interrupting our one-sided conversation.
“This better be fucking good, ooh.” Her name flashes on the screen, and I walk into the adjoining room to answer the call. “Couldn’t stop thinking about me, no?”
“Why are there men at my house installing security cameras?” Katie demands.
“Well, you didn’t have any, did you?”
“Aiden,” she lets out a breathy sigh. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I can take care of myself.
But I want to take care of you. I have no idea where that intrusive thought just came from, but it’s best to put that on the back burner for a while.
I don’t know what it is with her. It’s not like I haven’t seen vulnerable women in the past. It’s a given with what I do.
Something about her just seemed different.
Like one more trauma could completely shatter her.
I don’t know much about Katie other than what she told me in the car and what I’ve been digging around to find out about her, but something tells me this woman has been through hell and back and survived.
She moved out of Dublin for a reason.
She has isolated herself from everyone she knows for a reason.
She wants solitude for a reason.
And though I respect the fact that solitude can bring immense peace to someone with a traumatic past, a woman living alone without a support network is just as vulnerable to external threats as she is to her internal struggles.
She is a clear target for predators, I should know. I wouldn’t have picked up on it otherwise. The only difference is that this predator can make sure she stays safe. While the scumbags, like the one lying on my workbench right now, would try to harm her.
“You’re very grumpy in the morning, Katie. Have you not had your coffee yet?”
“I swear I’m—”
“What, Katie? What are you going to do, kill me?” She’d look stunning with a blade in her hand.
I glance down to see that I’m not the only one who thinks so.
I’m already at half-mast. The thought of her with a knife, covered in blood, sends a shiver down my spine.
It’s a twisted desire; I know that. But I cannot deny that the image alone makes my balls tighten and my heart race. “What are you wearing right now?”
“Aiden!!”
“What? I can’t be the only one of us to go about the house in the nip right now, right?
” I hear her gasp. Sticking her on speaker, I log into the cameras that are being installed in her house.
I’ll also have a fob for her new house alarm later in the week, but she doesn’t know that yet.
Six cameras in total. One on the landing, one at both the front and back entrances, one in the kitchen, one in the hallway, and one in the extension.
I find her pacing in the kitchen in her pyjamas.
“I’m a good six and a half inches at full mast, in case you’re wondering. ”
She’s blushing; that’s adorable. “I’m hanging up now!”
“Wait!” I laugh, seeing her get all flustered. “I’ll be down in Tipperary this weekend, and I was wondering if you’d like to meet for a coffee in Roscrea or something?”
I have to check the phone to make sure the call is still connected when she doesn’t answer.
“Katie?” I look back at the camera and catch her looking at the calendar on the wall.
“Yeah, I’m still here.” She makes a few awkward noises before finally responding. “Um, I can’t do Saturday.”
“Work?”
“I’m meeting up with Cillian.”
Somehow, that statement makes me want to stab something. “I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend?”
“He’s just a friend.”
“Is he gay?” I try to reason with myself, hoping for a different answer.
“No, he’s not gay,” Katie snorts, and she leans against the white marble-effect counter top to flip the kettle on.
She has a somewhat classic taste in home decor, from what I can see.
Grey tiled floors, grey presses, and a white counter top with similar white marble tiles on the wall. An interesting take.
I growl, “He sounds like an arsehole,” and half-turn to the room where Billy-soon-to-be-no-bollocks is occupying space.
“Because he’s straight?” she counters.
“Yes. You said it yourself; all men are scum.” I spot the prick on the workbench, wiggling free from his binds. “Shit!”
“Everything ok?”
“Work call; hold on for two minutes?”
“Yeah ok.”
I put the call on hold, rushing at the idiot as he slides off the table. I never imagined I would be naked and engaged in a wrestling match with another man; it seems more to Robbie’s liking, but here I am.
“Get the fuck off me, you sick bastard!” He roars, trying for a kick that I dodge, pinning him down with all my strength.
“I’m going to ignore the fact that my balls are so close to your face right now,” I grumble, tightening my grip on his wrists. “But the only place you’re going is back to that table, and possibly into a pig’s stomach; I’ve yet to decide how to dispose of you.”
He makes one last desperate attempt to break free, but I maintain my hold, exerting even more pressure. “You can go back to the table willingly, or I’ll gut you right here.”
“Fuck you!”
“You’re not really my type.” I punch him in the throat to silence him. His eyes widen in pain and shock as he gasps for air, giving me enough time to reach back to the top of the workbench and grab my hunting knife.
I was going to drag this out, but I’m aware of Katie being on hold, priorities, and all that jazz.
“Please!” he wheezes, still trying to catch his breath.
“No,” I respond coldly, tightening my grip on the knife.
Here’s another fun fact. Did you know that stabbing an unpeeled orange feels exactly like stabbing human flesh? It’s a strange comparison, but the resistance and the way the knife sinks in are eerily similar.
The only difference is that an orange doesn’t shit itself as a result.
I plunge the knife into his gut and yank down—Oh, I love that squelching sound; it makes me feel all tingly. It’s only when his guts spill out like udon noodles bursting from a broken package that I put the blade down.
Panting heavily, I get to my feet, leaving crimson footprints as I stumble back to the phone. Bloodied fingerprints mar the surface; I don’t take her off hold right away. Instead, I watch Katie roam about her house, unaware that I will have eyes on her at all times.
No one will ever hurt this girl again, and if they try, well…I have no problem turning them into pig slop, too.
“Sorry about that.” I heave a sigh, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror in front of me. Cherry rivulets run down my chest, dripping off the tip of my erection onto the concrete floor beneath my feet. “Sunday is fine; just tell me when and where.”