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“Listen to me. Your brother owes some very powerful, very dangerous people a large sum of cash, and let’s just say I’ve been hired to collect in any way I see fit. Let that sink in your pretty little head for a minute, then tell me where I can find it.”
“I don’t know! Ben never mentioned a word about having any money, only owing.”
“Very well. Then let’s you and I have a look around the place while you call him.”
“There’s no damn money,” she gritted out. “You’re wasting your time.”
“How about letting me be the judge of that? Now get your phone and make the call before I lose patience.” I circled her neck with my hand. “You don’t want me losing patience. Correct?”
She shook her head in nervous, quick successions, her expression wide with fear.
Fucking beautiful.
An hour later, I’d been through closets, pulled out clothing and searched inside pockets, and looked underneath particleboard of dresser drawers. Both mattresses were stripped of their bedding and against the wall. Kitchen cabinets were open as well as boxes and canisters of flour and sugar. The place was clean, the only thing of interest that I found being two dildos and a bottle of lube in my pretty little deceiver’s bedside table.
Interesting.
I pulled two bottles of Ozarka from the refrigerator with the onset of the one thing I did not need right now—a migraine. While only a small percentage of men were sufferers of the abominable headaches, I’d been dealing with them since childhood.
Only those with a pussy have migraines, you weak fuck.
With my thoughts doing their best to stir shit in my head, I took a seat at the dinette, then slid one of two waters across the table. Brooklyn was glaring at me like I was a horned demon while pain lifted behind my right eye and I rubbed at the growing ache. “Interesting dildos you own, especially the one with all the bumps and ridges. And tell me more about the CBD lube. Can you tell a difference?” My cock tightened as I watched heat lift up her neck and into her cheeks that showcased the spattering of freckles across the bend of her nose.
Christ, she was a vision. A goddess.
With an angry swipe of her hand, she reached for the water. “I wouldn’t know,” she hissed while blinking rapidly, her eyes darting back and forth and full of a thousand fucking lies. “So, please get out of my home, find somebody else to jack with, and let me get to work.”
“Not happening, sweetheart. Call Ben again.”
She reached for her cell phone, glowering at me. “What a letdown you must be to your loved ones.”
The bright countertop lighting was fucking with my sight. Stabbing agony was building behind both eyes, their sockets, my temples, and the base of my skull. The familiar throbbing pain along with her last words had more memories stirring in my head.
You eat our food and spend our money like we have a money tree sprouting hundred-dollar bills out back. I never wanted a kid, especially some sickly punk with chronic headaches.
I hadn’t been a bad kid, just a kid living with bad people. I should have gone into his bedroom that first night after he’d ripped away my innocence and slit his despicable throat from ear to ear.
“The feeling was mutual,” I replied while the hammering above my right eye felt like something drilling through my goddamn skull. I drained the water and turned off the under-counter lights. “Again,” I demanded, glancing at her phone.
“I—it’s been disconnected,” she replied, her voice quivering.
Fuck!
“And you’re just telling me this? Then guess what? We sit and wait until we hear from him.”
“I have a business to open, asshat. A note to pay.”
“Not today you don’t. Until we find either your brother or the money, there will be no pies. No notes paid. And I’d suggest you watch your damn mouth. Be a shame to cut out that pretty tongue.”
With her eyes glassing over, a tear slipped down her cheek. “You’re a miserable human. You know that? What do you have planned for Ben? Torture him for hours? Then shoot him with that gun in your pocket? You must feel so proud when your head hits the pillow at night.” Tone nervous and timid, she wrapped her arms around herself and began trembling. Panicking. Likely considering her options. The last thing I intended to tell Brooklyn was how cruelly I had killed in the past. Flaying. Limb removal. Nail, tooth, and tongue extractions. Water. Poison. Fire. She had no idea that shooting someone was an easy way to go. Quick, painless, and if it came down to that, a favor … to her.
“My only plan is to find out where he’s holding my client’s money. I’ll do whatever necessary.”
“He’s my brother, the only living relative I have. I’ll sell my car. This house. I’ll give you every penny I make or do anything you ask. Just spare his life.”
“Anything? That’s a pretty rich offer.” If she only knew how simple and quick it would be to push her into the goddamn wall, hold her in place, and thrust inside her. Or that I’d had a date with my hand after I left her pie shop while thinking how her warm pussy or tight asshole might feel while pulling cum up my cock. She had no fucking clue the man I could become. I backed my chair up, purposely giving her a view of the swelling behind my zipper.
“Go to fucking hell!”
