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“Oh, okay.” The bell chimes, and she adds, “I’ll see you there!” She hangs up before I can say anything.
I slip the phone back into my bag and lean back into the seat, shaking my head. It’s amazing how she shows absolutely no guilt about ‘cheating’ on Blake with Damon. I mean, technically it’s not cheating, but …
Ugh. I can’t fucking stand cheaters.
After stopping at Gwen’s apartment to grab some supplies, I drive to Epic Flix Rentals and park in an alley down the street. I then don my black attire and mask, secure my knife in its sheath, and cautiously make my way towards the back of the building, blending into the shadows.
My senses heighten as I approach the store. Faint voices emanate from inside, indicating the presence of people. Carefully, I peer into a window and spot a couple standing at the counter, engaged in discussion. Another woman browses an aisle. I move further around the back, ensuring that I remain undetected.
I try the handle to the back entrance door, but it’s locked. How clever of you, Little Finch, I think, reaching into one of my pockets for a tool. After some effort, I unlock the door and quietly slip inside, locking it behind me. I’ll have to wait for the customers to leave before I can begin part of Gwen’s punishment.
Hiding behind a stack of boxes in the storage room, I eagerly wait for the store to empty. I take out my knife; a heady rush of anticipation curls in my stomach at the sight of the blade. I’m going to enjoy this. All I have to do is wait a bit longer …
The couple finishes their conversation and leaves the store. A few minutes later, the other woman departs, leaving me alone with Gwen—who begins to lock up. Now’s my chance. I step out of my hiding place, blade held firmly in hand, and make my way into the break room. With no security cameras active, it’s easy for me to maneuver around.
The door to the main floor is slightly ajar, so I sneak a peek. She’s nowhere to be found. I creep out the door and stealthily round a corner, pressing up against the wall before peering around. No sign of her. A clattering sound from the public restroom grabs my attention. I hastily jog over to the other side of the store, getting myself into position to get the jump on her. The toilet flushes, and I grip the knife, ready to confront her.
After washing her hands, she opens the door—and gasps at the sight of me, before quickly reigning in her surprise. “What are you doing here?” she demands, pulling out a box cutter from her belt. “How did you get in?”
I laugh, stepping forward as she takes a defensive stance. “Did you think a simple lock would stop me?” Her eyes widen as I aim my blade directly at her throat. But to her credit, she tries to school her features.
“What are you going to do?” she asks, her voice steady, though her grip on the weapon is shaky.
“Gwen,” I say sternly, “you have done something very wrong, and now it’s time for you to face the consequences.” She takes a step back, but I know she will not run away. That would be too easy for my Little Finch; her pride is too strong to flee like a coward. So she stands tall, her gaze never diverting from mine. “We both know what needs to be done.”
She takes a deep breath, then nods slowly. “Yes,” she says quietly. “We do.”
I think she’s about to hand me the box cutter—my mistake for assuming she would play fair, obviously—when she tries to jab it into my side.Stupid, crazy bitch. I easily dodge her, then grab her wrist before she can move away. There’s a futile struggle as I tighten my grip before she finally gives up, dropping the box cutter to the ground.
“You should have known better,” I growl, shaking my head in disappointment. I press the tip of my blade against her throat, just hard enough to cause a thin line of blood to rise to the surface.
“What now?” she asks, her breathing shallow.
“Now,” I say, “you learn your lesson.”
As she stares at the ground in silence, likely expecting the worst, I keep the blade trained on her neck and lead her toward the break room. I lock the door behind us and push her toward the table.
“Strip,” I command, my tone brooking no refusal. “Everything.”
She looks at me, her eyes narrowed with hostility. While she may be brave, she also knows she can’t fight me. Reluctantly, she unbuttons her shirt, and the tension in the room builds as each piece of clothing falls away, leaving her completely exposed before me.
My eyes sweep over her body as I admire what I see. She tries to hide her squirm, and I smirk at the look of humiliation on her face. “Do you understand why this is happening?” I ask, my voice cold and unforgiving.
She nods and swallows hard, her clothing still in a pile near her feet. I come closer to run my gloved fingers down her cheek before shoving her down on the table. Her plush ass hits it, making her yelp in surprise. She looks at me, her eyes tinged with fear. I can tell she’s trying to find some way out, but there isn’t one.
“Now,” I say, circling her like a predator considering its prey, “can you tell me what you’ve done to deserve punishment?”
She nods and mumbles a soft, “Yes.”
Exasperated, I forcefully grab her chin. “Use your voice, sweetie.”
Defiance sparks in her eyes. “I refused to kill someone. And now you think I’m not loyal,” she answers, practically spitting the words.
“That’s partially right.” I chuckle. “And what else?”
She shifts her gaze away from mine, her jaw clenching. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
My expression darkens. Either she’s playing dumb, or I’ve given her too much credit. “C’mon, I know you know. Use your cute little brain,” I say, tapping the flat side of the blade on my hood.
