“They deserve to rot in jail,” I say between her delicious kisses.
She bites down on my lip, and I hiss in pain as the metallic taste of blood hits my tongue.
“Then you and I disagree fundamentally.”
She pulls back, and it almost—almost—makes me fucking regret that I said anything at all. Fuck, I hate how badly she's made me want her.
She kicks me in the balls, and I buckle over and heave in pain as I slither to the floor while she walks away to gather all of her knives again, tucking them all into her waistband. As I come up for air and my hand slips toward the desk, her heelsclick-clackon the floor toward me, and she snatches the gun away before I manage to reach it.
“I’m not going to let you win this, Foley,” she says. “But I think you already knew that. As for your little killer, good luck trying to contain vengeance. It’s going to be bittersweet. TTYL.”
She presses another obsessive kiss to my cheeks with the same kind of lipstick that’s left on all of the bodies and then bolts off through the door, like she fulfilled her goal.
But a wicked smile still forms on my face because I’m pretty sure she just invited me to a chase, and I’ll gladly oblige in catching her.
CHAPTER 33
Atreus
I took my time,gathering my gun and equipment so I could go in for the kill.
There was no rush. With the way she left, she practically invited me to come and seek her out. I don’t need anyone else. I will be the one to bring her in.
I stare up at her window from beneath the Delta Nu house and narrow my eyes from the sound of running water through the small opening.
Enjoying a last shower like it’s a last meal.
She must have someone guarding the front door if she’s so ballsy to act like nothing’s going on, which means I’ll have to take an alternative route inside.
I check out the fire escape and decide to pull down the staircase, then jump to grab hold. Easy enough. I climb the stairs and make my way up each flight until I reach her level, then walkalong the edge of the balcony until I get to her slightly open window.
I push it farther open and crawl inside. Her perfume hits me almost instantly, like an aphrodisiac straight to the fucking groin, and I let out a silent moan in a single breath.
This fucking woman has invaded every corner of my mind against my will, so it’s only fair I invade her safe space too.
The shower is still running, so I take the opportunity to look around her room, inspecting all the nooks and crannies, her unkept bed, her desk stacked with unopened books, and the locked drawer. But what really catches my attention is the poster she put up on her wall.
Of me.
I stop and stare at my own face from when I was giving a speech in front of all the cameras, and I touch the paper where a very visible lipstick stain marks my cheek. It’s still wet.
I rub my fingers together as my skin begins to crawl.
She put a picture of me on her goddamn wall like an ornament.
I have myself a motherfucking stalker, and she’s actually proud of it.
My gaze immediately pulls toward the opposite side, where her bed resides.
Has she masturbated to the thought of me?
For some reason, I veer closer to the bed, drawn by the idea of her lying here on these very sheets, and my hand instinctively touches the bedding as if it will give me clues.
As if it will let me feel her lying there, touching herself at the thought of me capturing her.
My cock throbs in my pants, and I lean in to take a whiff of the scent left in her sheets.
Pussy.
