PROLOGUE
KEY
“I have a car. You can have it. I won’t report it stolen, I promise.I promise.”
Every word is a little more panicked, a little more desperate.
A little more delicious.
Life drips from the man seated before me because he looked at her. Last week, he dared totouch her. Not that he has a clue what he’s done wrong, or why he’ll die. Neither does she, but we’ll get around to that. Later. Right now it’s fun to watch him beg. It amuses me to pretend to consider his plea. That spark of hope, like what he says might actually matter.
The bargains he strikes in his last moments, when true despair lingers in the air like the bitterest acid. His final flavor.
“Mmm.” I tap my blade to my lips and lick the tip. His blood is sour. I won’t make that mistake again. Tainted, because he touched her. No, the faster I kill this sack of depleted air and move along to more fascinating prey, the better. “I have…”
Other things to do today.
If I tell him what’s on the agenda for today, his spark of hope will die.
Just like him.
I smile around my blade, then fold and pocket it. Breath leaves my toy’s lungs as though I’ve done him a favor. Not that I have, really, swapping the slim metal for something more…brutal. The brass knuckles that fit my hand, custom made, of course. The irregular cuts in the metal will stamp my name across his flesh. Once, maybe, before his face becomes pulp.
A fitting epitaph for the man with no name. That’s how he will remain. Unfound and unnamed. How he will be reported. Because, even with this piece of shit’s pathetic offer, I have more money than I know what to do with. Usually. The deals I make with my twin are for fun. My version, of course, not some vanilla business deal like Beau Bennet’s as he plays with his Kingsmen.
No, I’ll pay for my piss-stained man-toy to stay nameless. Family-less.
Found by no one.
A smile threatens my face, but I hold the peaceful expression back. He can see my joy later, when I ruin his precious perfect frat boy, paid for, too-white teeth before he bleeds out on the warehouse floor.
A rental that connects me to nothing and no one, paid for in cash by the hour. Like a whore, only for me the money flows in the other direction, and my time is worth more.
And his is almost up.
I crouch before him, my face serious. “What can you offer me?”Nothing.
His eyes gleam, fanatical. Frantic. “Everything.”
You touched what I desire most.
“What you own?” My softest, considering tone.
You are nothing. Pathetic, piss boy.
“Take it all.”
Because daddy will give you more. I killed mine, left him gurgling in a puddle of his own drool and fluids for touching someone else who belongs to me.
“So…sweet.”
His labored breath hitches as he catches on. This isn’t going his way. And now, he knows.
I will end you.
Sometimes, I like to get hands on. Sometimes, I like to get messy.
Tonight is one of those nights.
