In fact, that singular notion is what’s driving me to run like a silent, deadly predator and has me beelining straight toward her voice. A voice that’s sounding more and more frantic.
By the time I reach her, and her ear-splitting scream hits my ears, my vision morphs from clear and focused to red and murderous. The flashing police lights aren’t fucking helping with that, either. Circling around so I’m coming up from behind, it takes every ounce of self-control to restrain myself from shooting this motherfucker in the back of the head.
To be clear, he deserves it. In fact, the way he grabbed the collar of her shirt and pulled her back, causing her to fall on her ass and cry out, is the definition of a motherfucker asking for repercussions. That’s me. I’m repercussions and he’s about to get up close and personal with my favorite brand of revenge.
Just as I’m sliding on my gloves so I can knock the life out of this prick, I see the moment Berkleigh applies what I’ve taught her and starts fighting back. There’s no denying my awe. As soon as she stopped panicking, her fight or flight kicked in andmy Sweet Bee is, without a question, the fighting type. More accurately, she’s the punch-them-in-the-balls then run-like-a-fugitive kind of woman.
Hands down, the sexiest thing I’ve seen in a long time.
Problem is, I don’t have time to bask in the moment because this is my cue to take this motherfucker out. To be clear, I’m not reacting blindly or killing because someone put his hands on my—yeah, the whole categorizing our relationship is going to have to wait until I dispose of Officer Sully Schultz.
It’s hard to believe he used to be the quarterback when we were in school. He’s just as creepy now as he was back then.
Apparently, the beat down I gave him our senior year when one of the cheerleaders—his girlfriend at the time—came to school with bruises on her neck and a split lip, didn’t sink in. She was a good kid, two years younger than me, and from what I learned years later, she was never the same.
My guess is he didn’t stop at the beating. Which makes tonight all the more enjoyable.
Just as Sully stands to his full height, I’m right behind him with my arm wrapped around his neck and squeezing those pressure points until he quietly passes out.
“Berkleigh!” One word, her name, with a tone that should have her running back here in mere seconds. The cracking of a twig tells me she’s back, immediately coating my nerves with a sense of calm. I have no idea how she does this to me. It’s fucking weird and I don’t know if I like it.
“Did you kill him?” It’s a whispered question like someone might hear us. I’m more worried about the red and blue disco ball happening on the road than how loudly Berkleigh speaks.
“No but I need to hurry before he wakes up.” I turn away from her then call out over the shoulder of my free arm. “Make sure no one’s coming.” This is not how I do things. A half-assed disposal of a body isn’t how I operate and it’s pissing me off.
“There’s no one here or coming.”
Gritting my teeth after getting the all clear from Berkleigh, I carry Sully to the driver’s side of his car, sit him back down, and turn off the fucking lights.
We’re instantly bathed in darkness and just that small change releases a little of the pressure at my temples.
“Take a branch, a big fluffy one, and erase our footprints or anything else that could appear to be out of place.” Berkleigh listens and for once doesn’t ask any questions. That being said, it doesn’t take a genius to know I’m about to make a bad situation a hundred times worse.
I know what a piece of shit Sully is, but to the town, he’s an upstanding sheriff who once raped his ex-girlfriend. Then again, she was a cheerleader wearing short skirts so what was he supposed to do? Fucking hypocrites, every last one of them.
Once I reach over to put on his seatbelt, assuming it’s a habit he has, I round the front of the car and point at Berkleigh. “Do not move. Do not panic. Whatever you do, do not…under any circumstance, come after me.”
“What? What are you talking about?” I’m about to answer her when Sully starts moaning back to consciousness.
“Fuck!” Complications are the bane of my existence. One minute I’m counting the minutes until I get to come inside Berkleigh after eating her pussy long enough to make her beg me to stop, the next I’m killing a cop for touching my—again, not going there.
By the time I reach the driver’s side door, my patience is gone and all that’s left is my lack of impulse control. I’m pretty sure that’s not a good thing.
Grabbing Sully by the back of the head, I take a deep breath, and with all the strength I can muster, I slam his head against the steering wheel. It doesn’t have the effect I’m going for and instead of knocking him out, I make him furious.
“Goddamit!” It’s a muttered curse but he hears me loud and clear.
“What the fuck are you doing, Tanner?” Oh, great. He remembers me.
“Taking out the trash.” With less finesse than before, I compress the carotid again, giving myself a few more minutes to make all this look as close to an accident as humanly possible.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Berkleigh whisper-yells as she does the exact opposite of what I asked her to do.
Shocker.
Grabbing her hand, I pull her with me as I go back to the passenger side, then take her face in my hands and bruise her lips with my mouth. Berkleigh is my gateway drug and if anything goes wrong in the next fifteen minutes, I want the last thing I taste to be her.
“Go back to the cabin. Wait an hour, in the dark, then take my truck to the house.”
