“Caught me just in time. I’m leaving tomorrow,” he says, collapsing onto the couch, feet up on the table. He lights a cigarette, droning on.
I sit next to him, my jaw so tight I’m sure a tooth cracked.
“So, what’s up?” he finally says, his glassy eyes looking me up and down. “You’re kinda scaring me right now.”
“Just here to blow off steam.” I lean back against the couch, eyes locked on the ceiling. “I’ve been told I’ve been too uptight. I need to let loose.”
“Sweet. A night with the Priest. I’ll make it count.” He laughs, running a hand over his face. His Slut crawls toward me on her knees. Hands on my thighs. Her pupils are blown, tongue peeking between her lips. Before she can reach my belt, I reach behind my back, pull my Glock, and hold it in front of her mouth.
She freezes.
“Show me what that mouth can do.”
Her eyes dart to Theo.
He fucking laughs. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.”
She hesitates, then opens her mouth, slowly wrapping her lips around the barrel.
“That’s it.” I push the gun further in her mouth, making her gag.
Theo’s laughing like an idiot. “Fucking hot, man.” He takes a video of her gagging and choking, drool dripping down her chin. “I’ll send it to you after.”
I look at him. Smile drops. Voice dead flat.
“Where’s her necklace?”
He blinks. “Huh?”
“Arlo,” I say, pressing the barrel deeper into the girl’s throat. She’s gagging harder now, mascara streaked down her cheeks, hands pushing weakly at my knee.
“I—I don’t know, man,” he stammers. “What necklace?”
“You sure?” I press harder. Her throat spasms. Her eyes are full of panic. “Because I think you do.”
He fumbles, sweating now. “It was nothing. Some cheap thing. Probably in my dresser.”
I nod slowly.
“Did you rape her?”
He stops breathing.
“What? What the fuck are you?—”
BOOM.
The room explodes in blood.
The Slut jerks once, then slumps backward, mouth slack, eyes wide and vacant. Her corpse collapses between my knees, smoke still curling off the barrel.
Theo screams, “WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK, PRIEST!”
He scrambles back, slipping in her blood. I let him. Watch him smear panic across the floor while the weight of what I need to know coils tighter in my chest.
Because it matters. It fucking matters. She’s mine. Only my hands, my mouth, my cock—no one else gets to touch her, hurt her, make her scream the way I do.
I rise slowly, pulling the pliers from my jacket pocket.
