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I spend too long staring at her like a fucking creep, but I can’t help it. I’ve been infatuated with Kyrie since I first laid eyes on her eighteen years ago. That infatuation morphed and grew into the twisted obsession I have for her now. Where I spend endless nights fantasizing about how I could worship her body after making her suck my cock like my good little princess. I’ve been driving myself crazy wondering how the fuck this date of hers has been treating her. Is he polite? Is he respecting her? Is he keeping his fucking hands to himself? That’s how I ended up at the club. I was having a bad night, beyond angry and beyond sexually frustrated. Repeated images of anyone other than me touching my princess played on a loop. The idea of her seeking any form of comfort in another man’s arms had me in a rage.
I close my eyes, sighing as I remind myself of the dead whore on my couch. Fuck, I shouldn’t have brought her here. Sahib wouldn’t have cared if I killed her at the club. But that’s what Kyrie does to me. I hardly remember going to the club to seek someone to take my frustrations out on, then bringing her here? I never do that. Staring down at my beautiful girl and unable to help myself, I run my fingers through her hair. I frown when she flinches, but nothing else happens. I shake my head before leaving her room and head back downstairs to wait for Sahib.
To my surprise, he’s in my living room staring at the body. I must have been upstairs with Kyrie longer than I thought for him to already be here. A smirk stretches my face as I move to stand next to him. “Fucker, you could have knocked.”
“Why would I bother waiting?” he replies, never taking his gaze off the corpse. He has a point, though. Sahib is impatient, with no boundaries on the best of days, add in a dead body in need of disposing, it’s no surprise he barged right in. “So, I must know what made you break all your own rules and bring one home. Does Kyrie have a strangulation kink too?”
His smirk is devious, making me want to punch him. “Fuck you, she was out, and I wasn’t thinking straight. At all.”
“Kyrie went out?” He snaps his gaze in my direction, one eyebrow raised. He’s known Kyrie all her life, knows what a homebody she’s always been, especially since Glen and his wife passed. He’s also the only person on this earth who knows how I feel about my eighteen-year-old granddaughter. Not because I need someone to gossip with, but the asshole is far too observant and noticed a pattern in the looks of women I play with. He took a giant educated guess and has kept my secret since. But he owes me just as much.
My voice is a harsh growl as I answer him. “Yes. On a fucking date. With a boy.”
Sahib just nods. “Well, that explains everything, really. No wonder you’re so distracted. Did this one come from the club? She looks familiar.”
He gestures to the body, focusing back on the matter at hand. Never one to spend too much time on the emotional bullshit. I jerk my chin in a nod, still pissed with myself for letting this happen. My gaze travels up to the ceiling as I wonder if we can pull this off without waking Kyrie. Sahib leans forward, studying the state of her and the bruising around her neck. “Well, at least you didn’t make a mess like last time.”
I flinch a little at the mention of last time. I’d heard Kyrie getting herself off in the shower, and the primal need that surged through me was too much that I immediately left for the club. The poor girl ended up with her throat slit.
“This will be an easy cleanup, you just need to help me get her out of here quietly so your little princess doesn’t catch us disposing of your dirty little secret.”
I level him with a death glare, and he responds with a shit-eating grin. I love the man, but I fantasize about killing him at least five times a day. The fucker knows how I feel about his ribbing regarding Kyrie.
We get to work gathering up the girl’s body from the couch and carrying her to the garage where she’s unceremoniously dropped. I head inside to clean any evidence of a strange woman in our home. The sudden thought has nausea swirling in my stomach. Never again. The thought of some cunt taking up Kyrie’s space makes my skin crawl, and I decide as soon as this is dealt with, I’m taking a scalding shower. That shit stays at the club from now on. When the cleaner arrives, he sets to work breaking and dislocating all her joints. I tilt my head as he goes about neatly tucking her body into a large duffel he takes to his van.
Sahib pays him, and he leaves with no fuss. Then Sahib turns his midnight gaze on me, studying me with an intimate knowledge. I stare back at my best friend, willing him not to say anything. No such luck. “I’ll start looking for new girls. Maybe one of the cartels has some to trade.” I raise an eyebrow, and he rolls his eyes at me. “Well, I’m going to need to replace the ones I know we’re getting ready to lose to your temper if this date goes well.”
I open my mouth to protest, then snap it closed, my fists clenched at my sides. Fucker’s not wrong.
Kyrie
Numb and empty. That’s the only way I can describe myself as I weave through the crowded hallways. I didn’t sleep a wink. How could I? First, what I witnessed. I swear my heart almost beat out of my chest when I heard his footsteps coming toward my room. After burying myself under my comforter to hide, I froze when Owen came in. In fear? No, I’ve never been afraid of him, and he’d never hurt me. What I saw, though? My reaction to it? That I am afraid of. I didn’t mean to flinch when he touched me. It was an agonizing mixture of that fear and anticipation coursing through me while he touched me with such dirty hands. It set off fireworks on my nerves.
My mind was in a fog the rest of the night. Rather than stay in bed and pretend everything was fine like I should have, I followed him. Too far to hear anything, I watched him and Uncle Sahib move the woman’s body out to the garage. What they did with her after, I have no idea. Part of me is disappointed in that, for reasons I’m unsure of. The other part doesn’t want to know. My mind is already whirling with confusing thoughts. It was obvious Uncle Sahib was not surprised to find a dead woman on our couch.
How many bodies have they cleaned up?
How many were because of Owen?
It made me realize I don’t know nearly as much about the man who raised me as I thought. Does he even work for Uncle Sahib as security? Is anything in my life real? The endless loop constricts my lungs, making it hard to breathe. Meandering down the hall, I spot Nate waiting by my locker and pick up the pace, eager to see a friendly face.
His face breaks out into a smile at seeing me, and he lets out an “Oof” when I slam into him and wrap my arms around his middle. He carefully returns my death hug and nuzzles the top of my head. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Wrong? Everything is wrong. My seanathair brought a woman home and killed her while he fucked her. I witnessed it. Then while I lay in bed trying to sort through the chaos constricting my chest, I made myself come again as the scene replayed in my mind. I thought about how hard I got off on the entire taboo scene. Watching him eat her pussy like a savage, fucking her while his hands were wrapped around her neck. I remembered the hot anger that coursed through me at the sight of him touching her. Arousal thick in my veins with the sick satisfaction I felt that he used her like a toy, then disposed of her like the trash she was. Then I imagined how his beard might feel between my thighs if he ate me so savagely, controlled me so completely while he fucked me. That’s what’s wrong.
I can’t tell Nate that, though. All I can do is draw comfort from his familiar presence. Except that’s all he is. He’s becoming a constant for me, one of a few places I can turn to for friendship but not solace. I frown when it hits me that he’s not actually helping me relax. He doesn’t make me feel safe. Only one person makes me feel safe. I sigh and extract myself from his arms as I breathe out my response, “Nothing.”
“It doesn’t seem like ‘nothing.’” He grabs my shoulders and rubs them. Instead of relaxing me, it causes me to cringe.
Shrugging him off, I straighten my shoulders and will myself to seem grateful for his efforts rather than annoyed. I sought him out, I should feel grateful. Scrubbing my hand over my face and breathing out a sigh of exhaustion, I meet his gaze with my tired one. “I just… I didn’t sleep well. Bad dreams.”
His features soften as he steps forward. “Do you want to talk—”
“No.” He raises his eyebrows. “I don’t even really remember them. I really don’t want to talk about it.”
He sets his features in a grim face. His brow pulls down and his lips thin into a hard line as he nods slowly. His shoulders set in a tense frame. “Well, let me know if you do.”
We stare at each other for a long moment, neither of us sure what to do. In the end, I make the decision to get the hell out of dodge like I want to. Giving him the best smile I can muster, I tell him I’ll see him later, then head to class. I spend the day in a quiet bubble on my own, trying to work through these complicated feelings. Everything goes by in a blur, and much to my horrified delight, I don’t see Nate the rest of the afternoon.
