10. Body Farm
TEN
THEO
Charity frowns, lifting a hand to brush a stray hair off her forehead. “You have more?”
“A bit more, yeah,” I admit, fidgeting with the edge of the sheet. I’m not sure how to explain that I’ve been low-level stalking her for the last twenty years without sounding like a psychopath. Okay, maybe it was a bit more than “low-level” stalking, but that isn’t really helping with the not-a-psychopath defense.
“Can it wait?”
“Wait?”
“Yeah, until tomorrow? I’m not sure I can handle any more big revelations tonight.”
My gaze traces the tired lines around her eyes, and I take the out she’s giving me. “It can wait.”
“Good,” she sighs, shuffling forward until her head presses into my chest. “Now be a good boy and go to sleep, Theo.”
“Anything for you, Charity.” I whisper the words into her hair, but she doesn’t hear them. Within moments, her soft snores fill the air. I close my eyes, finally enjoying everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
Hopefully, I can hold onto it.
A soft, scratching sound pulls me from a deep sleep. I can’t remember the last time I slept that hard, and I don’t particularly want to wake up now, but the scratching persists.
Cracking open one eye, I survey my surroundings. It takes a moment to understand what I’m looking at. There is a woman in the bed next to me, long dark hair creating a wall between her and the window on the other side of the bed. She’s sitting up, her back to the headboard as she hunches over her knees, a look of pure concentration on her face as one hand moves across the sketchbook in her lap. She’s wearing a sweater I recognize as my own, but it looks far better on her.
Charity doesn’t notice I’m awake, and I spend several minutes watching her sketch. It’s been a decade and a half since I last witnessed her like this. I can’t help but catalog the similarities, even while noting all the differences.
I’m just about to see if I can slip out of the bed without her noticing when a sound at the front of the apartment stops me dead.
“Charity.”
“Hmm?”
I’m not convinced she’s actually heard me; she’s just responding on instinct. The jingling sound grows louder as the front door opens. “Charity, your brother is home.”
“Hmm.”
Exaggerated footsteps can be heard throughout the apartment as Dane stomps around the living room and kitchen. I roll out of bed, dragging on my underwear and slacks. I didn’t have a shirt under my sweater, so I’m left with nothing to cover the top half of my body.
Well, if Dane didn’t know I was fucking his sister before this, he’s certainly going to know now.
“Charity?” Dane’s voice calls from the front of the apartment. “You awake?”
Honey-brown eyes snap to the door at the question, her concentration finally broken. One hand slaps the bed next to her, a look of surprise lighting her eyes when she finds the mattress empty.
“Over here, Viper,” I whisper, and she whips around to see me at the end of the bed.
“You have to go.”
I snort, tilting my head toward the living room, where Dane is stomping around. “Little late for that.”
“Out the window,” she hisses, scrambling off the bed.
“The...window?” She reaches my side in a moment, her hands pressing into my back as she tries to shove me toward the other side of the room. “We’re on the second floor, and there’s no balcony under that window.”
My gentle reminder doesn’t seem to deter her in the least. “You’re big and strong. Figure it out.”
“Oh, I’m big and strong, huh?” She doesn’t catch the teasing in my tone, her focus narrowed on maneuvering me across the room. I’m not convinced she wouldn’t push me out the window if she ever managed to get me over there.
Spinning, I pin her to the wall with my hips, sliding my hands up her arms until I can lace our fingers together above her head. “Good morning, sweet girl.”
“I am not sweet, and you need to get the fuck out of here!”
“Your brother knows I’m here.”
“He does no?—”
“If the two of you are done with whatever this is,” Dane’s voice snaps our attention toward the door, where he’s standing with a hand over his eyes. “There’s breakfast in the kitchen.”
He leaves quickly, pulling the door closed behind him. There’s a moment of complete silence before Charity loses it. Soft, tinkling giggles shake her shoulders and transform the worried lines of her face into something almost ethereal. I can’t help but lean forward to capture that laughter in a kiss.
“Come on,” I sigh against her lips, dragging my hands down her body as I step away. “I’m starving.”
I shouldn’t have let her talk me into waiting. Now I’m halfway to New York City, and she still doesn’t know.
If I hadn’t purchased these tickets three days ago, I would have been making arrangements on my phone the moment she fell asleep last night. I knew Charity was running from someone in New York when Dane said her “ex was being shitty”, but I hadn’t been sure which ex I needed to pay a visit to.
Now that I know this won’t be a friendly reminder to not harass women, I’ve had to call in reinforcements.
“This is Marco.”
“I’ll be in the city today.”
“What time?”
“Two thirty. Newark.”
“See you there, big man.”
As promised, Marco is waiting in the arrivals lane when I step out of the terminal. My eyes instantly land on the blacked-out SUV, and I shake my head.
“I drive this exact car.”
“It’s a good car.”
Marco’s crooked smile is exactly what I expected from my assassin-for-hire friend. Her long hair is styled in tiny buns on either side of her head today, but she’s wearing her signature black lipstick and enough tactical gear to take down an army.
“I’m only here for two men,” I inform her, gesturing to the grenade attached to her belt. “This is overkill.”
“This is from last night.” She pulls into traffic leading away from the airport, flipping someone off out her window. “I didn’t have time to change before you landed.”
Nodding, I sink further into the seat. Even if we’re lucky and traffic isn’t stopped on I-95, this will be a forty-five-minute drive.
“You’re awfully quiet over there. Something on your mind, Gigantor?”
“I was just thinking I should have called D’Milo. He never tries to talk to me.” I smile sarcastically, and she rolls her eyes.
“D’Milo shot his own pinkie toe off.”
That surprises a laugh out of me. “Idiot.”
“Very much,” she agrees, changing lanes without considering her blinker. “Besides, that dickweed couldn’t get rid of a body if you hand-fed him the necessary tools.”
“Who said anything about getting rid of a body?”
Her eyes cut to mine in the most loaded look I’ve ever received from anyone. “You’ve never called me in before, Theodore.”
“You’re normally busy running the club, Alice.” She rolls her eyes at the name but doesn’t say anything else. “How are things going at Lace Ministries?”
“Good,” she smiles, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “We got a handful of girls from Grim last week. They’re adjusting well.”
The reach of the Grim Reaper will never stop surprising me. “I had no idea Grim brought girls this far East.”
“That’s because you never leave your little hidey-hole long enough to see what the rest of the world is doing.” It’s my turn to flip her off, and she laughs loudly. “Seriously, big guy, what the fuck are you doing in the City? Amaretti said your last time here was over five years ago.”
“Now you’re talking to Amaretti about me?”
“Had to get the afternoon off somehow,” she jokes, but there’s no humor in her eyes this time. “Who are we after?”
“A scumbag who’s been harassing my girlfriend.”
Marco nods, but I see the questions forming in her mind. “Did he run, or does he live here?”
“Lives here. He took up residence in my girl’s apartment, but I don’t know if he’s still there. That’s the other thing,” I add, reaching for my phone. “We have to take care of the landlord, too.”
She slows to a near stop as traffic crawls ahead of us. “Right.”
“Ask your questions, Marco.”
“She lives here?”
“She’s an artist, and she has a gallery downtown.”
“And this guy lived with her?”
“He did not. He has his own apartment, but he had some kind of psychotic break. He talked the landlord into putting his name on Charity’s lease so the cops wouldn’t kick him out when they came knocking.”
“Charity?”
“Lawson.”
“Does Charity Lawson know she’s your girlfriend?”
The question makes me laugh, but I can feel something shifting deep in my gut because, no, Charity Lawson does not know she’s my girlfriend. “Fuck off, Marco.”
She raises both hands in surrender, a crooked smile on her face. “So, what’s the plan, big guy?”
“Fucking hell. Why do pigs like mud?”
“Pl-please. I’m s-sorry, I’ll leave her a-alone, I sw-sw-swear!”
“Shut up, dude,” Marco huffs, shoving the sniveling man onto his side in the dirt. “You need help, big man?”
Rolling my eyes at the question, I lift my foot out of the mud with an audible sucking sound. I’ll be lucky if I don’t lose a shoe in here. Carrying a body over my shoulder doesn’t help, adding about two hundred pounds of additional weight on one side of my body.
Deciding I’ve come far enough, I drop Charity’s landlord on his back. I check his mouth to ensure we got all his teeth. Marco shaved his head and removed his clothes before I carried him into the pigpen, so there shouldn’t be anything left of his body when the pigs are done. I wanted to chop him into sections, but Marco insisted the old man who owns this farm would want the body whole. I don’t love it, but I trust her.
Another pathetic whimper from Eric draws my attention away from Donnie’s mouth. The landlord didn’t cooperate quickly enough for Marco’s liking, and he paid with his life. Eric doesn’t have enough backbone to stand up to someone breaking into his home, so he’s still breathing…for now.
Turning back toward the fence-line, I see the man curled into the fetal position at Marco’s feet. She’s looking down at him with disgust written on every inch of her face. Hopping over the fence, I land with a heavy thud at Eric’s side, making him whimper and scramble away. Marco meets my eye over the man’s body, shaking her head from side to side.
“Pathetic little shit. Your girl dated this?”
“She doesn’t understand her worth,” I bend, dragging the little weasel back toward me. Marco crouches on the other side of the wriggling man, pulling a syringe from the little purse slung across her chest. “I’m working on it.”
“Good luck to ya,” she mumbles, pulling off the syringe cap and immediately stabbing it into Eric’s neck. He screams and tries to get away, but I’ve got him pinned to the ground.
It doesn’t take long for the drugs to kick in, the fight quickly leaving his body. Checking his eyes, I’m satisfied when I see the terror in them as they try to track my movements. “Where are the acid barrels?”
“In the barn.”
Marco hops up, pointing to an old barn at the top of a hill. Eric is much easier to carry when he isn’t kicking and screaming for his life. He manages to make a sound that I think would be a scream if he could open his mouth enough to let it out.
We head toward the barn but slow down as we pass through a horrific-smelling field. “What is this?”
“Decomposition in direct sunlight on barren earth.”
My eyes catch on a heap of rotten flesh and exposed bones. “How do you know this guy again?”
“I grew up on a farm near here. He was a scientist that went a little,” she whistles, spinning one finger in a circle next to her temple. “He’s a good guy, though.”
“And he won’t tell anyone we were here?”
“Nah. He’s too interested in the science to care where the bodies are from.”
We stop before the barn so Marco can slide the doors open. The room is lined with clear barrels, each filled with a different-colored liquid. Eric’s terrified whimpering increases in volume the closer we get to the row of red barrels.
“The dye is for organization,” Marco explains, wiggling the lid off a barrel near the middle of the row. “The red barrels are the slowest-acting acids, followed by yellow and green.”
“Stoplight system.”
“Exactly,” she laughs, dropping the lid onto the ground.
Moving forward, I adjust Eric’s body until it looks like his knees will clear the rim. He’s squealing louder than I thought possible with the drugs in his system, but there’s no movement in his limbs as I carefully lower him into the barrel.
The liquid sizzles softly on contact with his bare feet, and Eric screams. Marco crouches down, looking at his feet through the side of the barrel. “You’re good. It’s bubbling, but his skin isn’t coming off yet.”
I lower him further, stopping just before his waist clears the liquid line. It almost sounds like he says “no”, but it’s quickly replaced by another scream as I lower his crotch into the acid. I keep my movements slow, ensuring no acid spills over the edge. Once he’s submerged up to his shoulders, Marco pops up next to me with a smile.
“Drop him. He’ll hit the bottom before his head goes under.”
I’m all too happy to oblige, letting him go with a quick step back. A single drop of acid leaps from the barrel, splashing onto my hand. I suck in a breath, but the pain subsides quickly. I try to imagine how much it would hurt to have my entire body submerged in the acid, and I smile.
“Would you like to do the honors?” Marco holds up the barrel lid, a vicious look on her face as she watches Eric’s body tip to the side, the acid crawling up his neck.
Taking the lid from her, I step forward again, making eye contact with Eric. His gaze is far off, but his panic is evident even as his screams grow quieter. I place the lid against the far edge of the barrel, slowly lowering it into place. “Wish we could stay longer, buddy, but I’ve got a woman waiting for me back home. Have a good night.”
Viper
Wishing you were here?
The question mark confuses me, but not for long. A photo follows the text, and I nearly put the gas pedal through the floor in desperation to get to Dane’s apartment. Charity is fresh out of the shower, with water droplets still lingering on her skin around the towel hanging loosely in front of her body.
Theo
Are we playing this game again, sweet girl?
Viper
You did say there was something else I needed to know.
And this is how you intend to get it out of me?
It worked last time, didn’t it?
Another image comes through, this one of her hip and thigh with her hand disappearing between her legs, and I groan in frustration. I’m pulling into the parking lot three minutes later when my phone buzzes loudly.
“Ch—”
“Theo,” she pants my name, a breathy little moan dragging out the final vowel. “You didn’t text me back.”
“I was driving, Viper.” I slam the car in park, getting out as quickly as I can with my dick standing at full attention.
“You—shit—you were gonna make me come on my own?”
“Never, sweet girl.” The apartment door is locked. Of course, it is. They think I’m out of town. Groaning, I race back down the stairs. The lock-picking kit is hidden beneath a fingertip vibrator I was going to leave in Merrick’s apartment. I grab both, darting back up the stairs as Charity moans my name again.
“Daddy, please.”
“What do you need, Viper?” I kneel before the door, shaking my head when I realize it’s a standard lock. “You need me to talk you through it, sweet girl?”
“Yes, oh fuck, yes.”
“Are you touching that pretty pussy for me, Viper? Are you going to make yourself come for me like a good girl?”
Charity moans right as the lock clicks open. I’m going to talk to Dane about replacing the lock as soon as he gets back from work. Another moan cuts through the air, echoing in the phone still pressed to my ear.
“Please, I?—”
“Say my name, Viper.” I measure my steps toward the bedroom door, keeping quiet as I approach the end of the hall.
“Theo.”
“That’s right, sweet girl. It might be your fingers in that pussy, but it’s my name on your lips, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Theo,” she sighs, her breath hitching on my name.
I know what to expect on the other side of the door, but it doesn’t prepare me for the sight of her stretched across the bed, two fingers in her cunt as she writhes against the mattress. “Come for me, Viper.”
“Fuck!” Her eyes snap open, landing on my face as she comes. Surprise and pleasure war in her gaze as she shudders through her orgasm. “What are you doing here?”
“You said you needed me.”
“I thought you were out of town.”
“Do you want me to leave?” We both know all she has to do is say the word, and I’m gone, but she shakes her head. “Do you want me to come over there and clean you up, sweet girl?”
She breathes out a quiet “Yes.”
I strip off my clothes on the way to the bed so I’m completely naked when I land between her spread legs. Wrapping my hands around her thighs, I tip her hips up to meet my face as I lick her clean.
“Th-Theo, fuck.” Her groans about sensitive spots turn slowly into moans for more. She’s grinding her hips against my face, soaking my mouth and beard as she chases down a second orgasm.
“You gonna come on my face, sweet girl?”
“N-no.”
“No?” I pull back instantly, ignoring the way she reaches for me. “What’s wrong, Charity?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she huffs, sitting up to grab my face. “I want to come on your massive cock, you big idiot. Can you make that happen?”
She gives me a kiss before settling onto her back again. Reaching behind me, I drag my jeans toward the bed, grabbing a condom from the back pocket. The fingertip vibrator falls out when I drop the jeans back to the floor, and I throw it onto the mattress by Charity’s head.
“Can you make it happen in the next ten seconds? Because I’m about to—ohfuckme.”
I slowly pull back, allowing her time to adjust to being filled so suddenly. “You good, sweet girl?”
“Yes, fuck, just, go. Go, go,” she waves a hand at where our bodies are joined, and I quickly give in to her demands.
The next time her back arches, I slide a hand between her and the mattress, flipping us until she’s straddling my hips. “Ah, fuck,” she sighs, sinking down my cock until her hips are flush with mine.
“Take control, Viper.”
“Gladly,” she smirks down at me, planting a hand against my chest as she rolls her hips experimentally. “How the fuck?”
I’m not sure what she’s asking, and I don’t think she knows either. Her head tips back as she grinds her hips over and over, a soft shudder wracking her body. I can feel my own orgasm building at the base of my spine, but I try to hold it back when she starts to lift her hips. She drops down quickly, her tits swaying with the gentle rhythm she sets.
“Fuck, Viper, I’m gonna come.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, fuck,” I grab her hip with one hand, guiding her into a quicker pace while I search for the vibrator in the sheets by my head. “I need you to come with me, sweet girl.”
She keeps the pace I set when I let go of her, but she falters when I slip a hand between us, turning on the vibrator just before it comes in contact with her swollen clit. “Shit, right there.”
Her pussy spasms around my cock, and I thrust my hips up to meet her. “Come on, Viper.”
“Daddy,” she groans, her body locking up as her orgasm starts to take over.
“That’s right, sweet girl. Come on Daddy’s cock.”
She comes apart with a violent shiver, her eyes rolling back as her body floods with dopamine. I follow her over the edge, every part of me going limp as she collapses on my chest.
“That was...”
“Yep,” I agree, kissing her temple. My hand runs along her back, soothing the shivers out of her skin. I turn off the vibrator, toss it onto the bed next to me, and make a mental note to buy a new one for Merrick later.
“Where were you?”
My brain is too fried to temper my answer, not that I intend to ever lie to her again. “A body farm in New York.”
“What’s a body farm?”
“A legal body farm is used for scientific research on postmortem body decomposition.”
“And an illegal body farm?”
“Is used for dumping bodies you don’t want found.”
She hums against my pec, scraping her teeth over my nipple. “Whose body were you dumping there?”
“Bodies,” I correct, running a hand through her still-damp hair. “Eric Scruby and Donnie Hartman.”
Charity stops moving, her body stiff as a board. I realize what I’ve just said and, more importantly, how casually I’ve just said it. “Charity, I?—”
“You killed him?”