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“Sure thing.” Keeping as much distance between us as I can in the small room, I scurry to the table, set down the cup and unwrap one of the hot dogs.
“Here ya go.” I press the revolting onion-smothered hot dog to his lips.
His eyelids droop but he opens his mouth and takes a bite, sloppily chewing.
“How’s that?” I ask, peering into his eyes. “Better?”
“No.” He clutches his stomach and stretches his mouth into a wide yawn, like he can’t draw in enough air.
“Want some chili?” I ask.
“N…no.” He waves his hand through the air frantically.
I set the hot dog back on the table and stand with my back to the window, watching him struggle to breathe.
“Help…me…”
“No thank you,” I say sweetly.
Wretched choking sounds tear at his throat. He slides off the bed, hitting the floor with his knees and flopping over on his side.
I approach slowly, still wary he might be onto me and faking.
“This death is too good for you,” I whisper, staring down at him.
I’d rather wale on him with a baseball bat. Replicate the same bruises on his face that he left on Laurel’s. But that would leave too many obvious clues. Police would be looking for a suspect. There’d be a chance I’d leave DNA behind. Hell, there’d be a chance he would’ve overpowered me and I’d be the one to die.
So, this way is smarter.
Cleaner.
And solves the problem. For good.
Vomit bubbles out of his mouth and his entire body spasms.
Almost time to go.
I pull a plastic baggie from my pocket and a small pair of scissors, then crouch next to him.
“Don’t mind me. I need a little souvenir for my collection.” I ruthlessly grab his thick, greasy black hair and clip a handful. “Be thankful I’m not taking one of your eyeballs. That’d be my preference, but it would raise too many questions.”
His eyes bulge, as if daring me to scoop one out. The temptation gnaws at me, but I resist the urge. A missing eyeball would scream murder, not accidental overdose.
He tries to twist away, his torso contorting weakly, but he’s too far gone to escape my grasp.
I sprinkle the hair into my bag. Without the root it’ll be hard to get DNA from it. Besides, by tomorrow night, it’ll be encased in a little resin ornament that I’ll hang next to my others.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Jigsaw
My obsession and need to see Margot fuels my ride home. We meet with Upstate outside and everyone goes through another recap of events. I’m antsy as fuck to get on the road.
“Before we go,” Rock says, holding out his hands to stop us from getting on our bikes, “I want to commend everyone for the way you handled today. No one expected to see Priest challenged. The situation could’ve quickly gone south.”
A smirk spreads across Murphy’s face. “I think we were all too stunned to speak.”
“Even so,” Z throws an appreciative look at every brother in our circle, “thanks for not making a bad situation worse.”
