She actually may be asleep this time. I don't know how long we were gone, but I imagine it was boring waiting here for us to return. Her dark lashes are settled softly, and her pink lips are closed.
“Do your thing.” I tell him, though he's already yanking his belt free of the loops so he can shove his pants down his pasty thighs, his hesitation from before gone. He isn't bothered by my presence anymore as I turn my back to him, reaching for the things I left in the darkness.
A syringe, a vial of the drug that will take him out quietly so it won't arouse suspicions in the rest of them. I tuck the knife into my waistband. The gun with the silencer attached is here if I need it. I brought more, of course, a whole little torture chamber on the go. But I'm going to take them out silently, all the way up until the last two... those two may require a bit more force, a method that's messier.
I draw the liquid into the syringe quickly and flip it. I don't bother checking for air bubbles. If he dies prematurely, I've got four more willing victims, each one who deserves a painful death as much as Garrett... some who deserve worse.
He's already on top of her, unclothed, when I turn back to them. On all fours, his dick grazing her stomach, he kisses her breasts. I watch his dick jump at the contact, and for a moment I think he may just try and fuck her belly button like the goddamn creep he is.
“Condom.” I remind him, taking a step closer.
Garrett groans, as if I’ve ruined all his fun.
“Fine.” He leans back, and I pretend to turn to offer him privacy. But as I do, I see it.
It’s so faint I wonder if I imagined it or if it’s a trick of the light. I hear him shifting as he works the rubber over himself, and I take a few steps to the side, using the darkness as my cover to circle behind him.
Moving quickly and quietly, I almost reach the table as he leans back over her, and I imagine he's trying to force his cock inside her dry. The thought enrages me, but more surprisingly, it enrages my beast.
The adrenaline rush makes me damn near dizzy as I lunge for him.
I'm too late.
I just barely see the glint of silver in the air before I hear the gasp. It's loud, agonized, surprised... but not loud enough to be heard from afar.
Blood pours out from a wound in Garrett's neck, showering my little doll as she strains forward as much as she can, digging the point into the flesh she already tore apart.
Fucking hell.
It's gruesome, violent, and shocking.
Her chest heaves with frenzied breaths as she doesn't let up, digging the point as deep inside of him as she can get it. As I move around to her side, I get a better view of his face... eyes bulging and strained, desperate for a breath that won't come. I think he went into shock immediately, which left him unable to move as she turned the knife to stab him again after the initial slice.
Fuck. It's a wicked gash.
The knife I gave her just in case something happened to me had been tucked beneath her thigh. I sure as hell didn't expect she'd use it, but I didn't want her to be left defenseless if anything went wrong.
When I look at her, her eyes are fixed in determination, hard and cold, but not empty. Not empty at all. They’re full of purpose, determination, and quiet rage simmering beneath the surface.
Garrett's gasps turn to a gurgle before the sounds fade entirely, leaving the only sound to be heard in the room her ragged breaths, the slow drip of his blood oozing off her, off the table, and onto the floor.
Well, I guess we have to rethink our plan... and quickly.
She doesn't seem convinced he's dead until she thrusts the knife at him one last time and then pushes him off of her. She freed both her hands, my sneaky girl, but she's still tied down. Her eyes seek mine, wide and glassy, as whatever reverie she'd been under seconds before is fading at the sight of me.
“I'm sorry.” She says quietly between heaving breaths.
Her lip trembles a little, but I'm not sure if it's adrenaline, shock, or fear. Maybe all of them. I know firsthand what an intoxicating blend they make.
She's so fucking gorgeous like this... tied up for me, helpless, covered in the blood of a man who wanted to hurt her.
It's fucking ruinous.
I can barely breathe around the need that's strangling me from the inside out. But survival instincts take precedence, and there are still four other men waiting to be disposed of.
I free her quickly, ripping the cords that I'd used to strap her down.
Confusion clouds her gaze as I undo the last one, but I don't mull over it. Instead, I grip the back of her head and devour her. It's all I can do to ease some of the pressure that's threatening to bring me down from within.
