“How much?” I asked with more force.
Wengrow quivered just enough for me to find a sign of weakness. He was afraid of death. Good. As he should be. “A hundred.”
I whistled. “I kill, too, Jeffrey, and I can promise you, I have little concern over taking another’s life. But a child? That’s a foreign thought, even to me.”
“I needed the money.”
“Money, money, money.” I waved my hand dramatically. “It’s all about fucking money.” I grinned at him. “Was it fun to spend it? Did you feel satisfied with that cash?”
Wengrow stared at me like he didn’t understand, but I didn’t expect him to. He was far below my intelligence, and I had no desire to entertain him anymore. The fun of killing him was gone and something sparked inside me—a need toobeyJules. Wordlessly, he’d told me to deal with Wengrow, and I was going to do exactly that. In the years after my parents’ deaths I was aimless, trying to find a place to call home, and I liked New Gothenburg. Surprisingly, I also liked Jules’s hard and commanding voice.
“Jules will be angry at me for this,” I murmured, sliding my hand into my pocket for the knife I’d bought.
“For what?” Wengrow’s voice trembled, and pleasure simmered in me, sharp and melting and electric. There was nothing prettier than hearing a grown man scared, and it made me feel powerful.
“Goodbye, Wengrow.” I yanked the knife out of my pocket, flipped it open, and shoved the blade into his neck—straight into the spot that held one of his carotid arteries. He let out a gurgled gasp and stared up at me with wide eyes, fear and surprise mixed in his gaze.
I stood taller, not caring that blood spattered the black T-shirt I’d bought from the secondhand store. A rush of warmth flooded me, and my heart grew large in my chest until it hurt to breathe as I stood over him like a reaper while the spark faded from his eyes. This had been my choice and I’d had control over his destiny. And now, he was nothing. Another piece of artwork.
Wengrow slumped on the bed, and I pouted at how quickly he’d left this world. He didn’t get the pain he deserved, but I hadn’t thought out the waterboarding nearly as much as I should’ve. Would Jules be annoyed? I hoped not.
Staring around at my surroundings, I sighed. There was nothing I could do now. It was done. I didn’t see how CSI could link these murders. Philip, the trucker, was precise and planned, some of my best work. Wengrow? Not so much. I scrunched up my nose at my hastiness. I would need to do better with Donny. Maybe Jules could give me some pointers.
I grinned and dropped the knife on the bed, so different from the last one I’d used, and pulled out the printed article from my jeans. I unfolded the paper and laid it on his chest before grabbing the knife and jamming it into his body, as though the muscles and flesh were a corkboard and the blade was a pin.
I ignored the jug and towel, leaving the room exactly how it was, and once I was out of the house, I slipped on my shoes and walked as casually as I could down the night-shrouded streets. This neighborhood wasn’t the best, and I didn’t think I would have a problem. Most of the houses were dark, and the streetlights barely lit the area I walked.
My first priority was getting rid of my clothes, and I knew the perfect location. Halfway between Wengrow’s house and Jules’s home was an area the homeless liked to sleep, and I’d passed it numerous times. I’d watched the people who lived there carefully. They weren’t normal, either, but they also weren’t like me. They didn’t get along in society, nothing more than a disease in the eyes of the rich in this city. I didn’t feel empathy for them, but I understood them. Iwasthem. We were outcasts.
As I walked past the area, I took off my shirt and pants, throwing them into one of the fires that burned in a steel drum. It left me in only my underwear, but I didn’t have to wait long before a woman ambled her way over to me, thin material in her hands. She looked old enough to be my grandmother, but she didn’t say anything as she wrapped the sheet around my shoulders. Not once did she ask why I’d thrown my clothes into the fire, and that’s what I liked about these people. They never questioned me. They hated the cops, too, so they didn’t have a reason to go talk to them.
With a nod of gratitude, I kept walking toward Jules’s house.
At one point, a police cruiser slowed down beside me, a stern man staring at me as his window went down. “You lost, kid?”
“I’m fine,” I answered politely.Ugh. “Had a wild night.”
“Want a ride home?” the cop grunted, shoving his head out farther. I couldn’t see his hair beneath his hat, but I suspected he had a salt-and-pepper crew cut, and his skin was weathered.
“Nope, I’m almost there. Thanks.”
The cop nodded and eyed me but didn’t say anything as the window went up again and he took off. I wasn’t doing anything illegal. Well, mostly. He could’ve maybe gotten me for public indecency. Fuck, I never thought about that until now. That would’ve put me right into the center of police scrutiny, and Jules would’ve killed me.
The thought of what he’d do to me—wrap his hand around my throat as he threw me against the wall—elicited a pleasurable shudder down my spine and my cock stirred. I swallowed, surprised by my reaction, though I shouldn’t be shocked. I’d always liked some roughness.
By the time I got to Jules’s house my feet hurt and I was tired. With a sigh, I knocked. It was nearly three in the morning, and I suspected he might be sleeping, but if I knocked hard enough—
The door flung open and Jules stared at me from the threshold. Dressed in nothing but a pair of blue pajama pants, my attention went straight to his chest. He wasn’t ripped like the men I saw in magazines, but he wasstrong. He had a build that guaranteed he could easily haul me around, and perky nipples that peaked with the outside air. His hair was a mess, as though he’d just rolled out of bed.
“Come here.” He grabbed my wrist and hauled me inside, and I grunted in desire as he slammed the door shut. He spun toward me, arms crossed. “Why are you here?”
“I did it.” I beamed at him—real and excited. “Wengrow. He’s dead.”
Jules swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. He looked delicious, and I could smell him from here. Earthy, like the scent of dirt after fresh rain. “And Donny?”
I blinked at him. “Not yet.”
He hummed. “I told you I can’t touch you knowinghehas and he’s still breathing.”
