Page 56 of Shattered Souls

“Oh, lookit,” The man purrs at Rayvn. “He has heard about you.” The lightbulb goes off. He’s the taller officer from the other day. The one that was quiet when the shorter man questioned both Rick and me.

“You need a warrant to be here.” I deflect.

“So you’re taking people and holding them down here until you kill them?” He smiles at me, the action sending my blood boiling.

“Guess you’re going to be added to that statistic.” Rayvn loops her arms around my middle again, holding me tightly.

“I have all the pictures—the barrel, the cabinet of weapons—all of it.” He shakes his phone in the air for emphasis.

“Seek,” Rayvn whispers behind me, voice trembling like her body. “Who is he?” Frustration bubbles in my chest. This man is scaring my girl.

“This is a police officer, little scarecrow.” I wrap my free arm around her shoulder, tugging her to the face of this confrontation. “Tell him, are you scared for your life and lost?” I smile at the man, knowing this is the test of a lifetime for her.

She swallows thickly before speaking. “No.” Though I can feel her fear, she doesn’t let it surface in her voice.

“See,” I pull her closer. “She’s not a prisoner. And I’m a hog butcher, hence the weapons.” I don’t know why I’m bothering answering the man that’s obviously here illegally.

“You think—” His words are sucked out of his throat and replaced with a sharp inhale, a loud pop ringing through the air. His legs crumple under his weight, his gun scattering across the floor with his fall. He cries out, looking down in horror at the gore of which is now his thigh.

“What the fuck!” The cop cries, unsure where to put his hands—to try and tourniquet the wound or not.

“Synn,” Rayvn burrows into my chest, clinging to me for dear life. My name coming from her mouth makes my cock stiffen under the towel. I run my hand down her back, turning my head over my shoulder to see Hayze with a rifle hanging in one hand.

“Took you long enough.” I chuff, annoyed at his need for theatrics.

“Not my fault you needed this shit in a fucking safe with biometric scanners.” It’s true. I have the rifle in a safe deep in my room, locked behind a fingerprint scanner and a six digit code. Though, I never did give him the code. “What now?”

“Well, since he was snooping around, go take his phone.” Hayze’s eyes linger on Rayvn, her looking up from my chest for a split second, before going to the man. He’s whimpering, eyes still locked on his gaping wound.

Hayze leans down and plucks his phone from the ground, the screen still unlocked. He swipes through the photos the cop took as he walks over to us.

“He opened the barrel.” He signs, turning the phone to show me the photo. The barrel is full of the once pale yellow liquid, now almost brown with a layer of white froth from small remains that didn’t dissolve well. Too bad he didn’t stick his hand in to test his theory.

“Well,” I look down at the cop, a pool of blood forming under the wound now. “Get him on the table.”

I walk back inside, plopping down a bag of items I’m itching to use on our newest victim. Rayvn walks over to me, unbound and lax in posture.

“Did you get it?” She crosses her arms over her chest, trying to seem intimidating, but she only looks utterly fuckable with her bottom lip puffing out in a pout.

“Yes, calm down little scarecrow.” I reach in one of the bags and produce a pack of sour gummy worms. She squeals, takes the bag, and saunters off to the couch where she opens the pack and plops one in her mouth. Hayze is watching her with a brow raised and chest jumping in a quiet laugh.

“What’s the plan?” He asks me.

“I got a bunch of shit to make him talk.” I mindlessly say as I pull household cleaners and other things to break him enough to talk, while not drawing attention to myself at the store.

Hayze opens some of the bags, landing on the one full of gummy worms, and shoots me a knowing look. I flash him a smile that borders on shy before turning away so as to not let him see the hint of color that rises to my cheeks.

“Can you put something on the TV?” Rayvn says around a mouthful of gummy worms. “I don’t want to hear that.”

“You have books.” I tease with a wink, earning a heartfelt smile and a middle finger. The man’s sitting on the metal table, wound covered with gauze, and an IV strapped to the crook of his arm.

He looks up at me, eyes glazed over from the drugs coursing through his veins. I walk up to him, taking the fresh pack of gloves from the bag looped around my wrist. He opens his mouth before closing it once more to wet his tongue.

“Well, morning, officer.” I mock tipping a hat. His eyes narrow at me.

“The force is going to be looking for me.” He shifts his weight, wincing as he moves the mangled leg. “You’ll be caught before the end of tomorrow.”

“Sure,” I roll my eyes while slipping the gloves on my hands, the act familiar and comforting. I rummage through the cabinet, grabbing the various medical supplies I’ll need to clean the wound—after my play time. After my gauze, bottle of water to flush debris, and tape is placed beside him on the table, I begin undressing his wound.