Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
My uncle had me do an STD test and everything.
But as annoyed as I am that I could have dealt with Galanis long ago and freed up our evening, I don’t want to make the same mistake my uncle did and stay back, giving Rowan space.
He’s in his own head and doesn’t speak or even look my way as he circles his prey. His black T-shirt sticks to the front of his body, damp with perspiration, and each turn around the small interior makes the plastic sheets whisper in reassurance. I know he can do it, but this first kill would be infinitely easier if he chose not to wait until his mark’s eyes sharpen with awareness.
Outside, the wind howls so loudly it's like another presence in the room, and every now and then, a strong gust rattles the window as if it too wants to get to the pastor and choke him before Rowan can.
The eerie silence that settled over the cabin is broken when Rowan speaks, taking a deep breath as he faces Galanis.
“You thought you could get away with what you did. That I’m some weakling who would never approach you. That you’re invincible thanks to what? God’s benevolence?” He shakes his head with a sneer.
Rowan’s not a big guy, but right now, with the knife in his hand, he looks powerful. I find it so hot that all his wrath, all his darkness is packed into such a compact body. Every day, he seems to get tougher where it matters, yet as soon as he’s under me, he gets so sweet and pliant I melt into him. It’s as if the softness is only for me while the world gets all of Rowan’s sharp edges.
Galanis mumbles into the gag, eyes wide, but Rowan doesn’t take it out for a conversation. He just wants to say his piece without being interrupted. I understand that, even though it’s giving final speeches that always gets TV villains in trouble.
That’s okay. He’s not a villain, and I’m here to back him up.
“You will die tonight. And guess what? Your buddy Ted is already dead. That’s right. I’m not here to make empty threats or take your money. In fact, we added a few bucks to the donations box you were so eager to dip into. Your congregation will be better off without a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
Rowan speaks in a raised voice, and my mouth waters a little when he steps even closer to Galanis, the sharp point of the knife aimed at the man.
The wolf’s eyes widen, and he whimpers, trying to twist away from the blade, but it’s too late. He’s had years to atone and save his miserable life, and yet he didn’t. Why would anyone take pity on him now? I don’t.
Rowan’s breath is loud when he presses the tip of the knife into Galanis’s chest. It’s sharp, I made sure of that before gifting it to him.
“I hate you so fucking much, and I will sleep so soundly knowing you’re dead. Just two more of you to go, and the world will be a better place.”
Galanis writhes in the chair, jerking away as Rowan pushes the knife into skin, but the motion makes our prisoner swing right back, and the very tip stabs into flesh, making him shriek.
‘Do it’, I think as if I can encourage Rowan with my mind alone. ‘Do it, he deserves it’.
But Rowan stills with the knife barely digging into Galanis, who is only making things worse for himself by wiggling as if he believed he can come out of this murder room alive.
I put the mug of chocolate down on a side table and take a step closer. “You need momentum, baby. It’s hard to stab without a good swing.”
Rowan huffs and pulls his arm back, but seconds pass and he’s not making his move. In fact, he’s not making any moves, as if the cold outside has frozen him stiff. When Rowan once more pushes the knife against his victim's chest, Galanis screams into the gag and stares at him with pleading eyes.
His next twitch makes the chair stagger. The blade slashes through his shirt, releasing a steady stream of blood, but by the time our mark collapses on his side, he’s not only still breathing but on his way to perfect health once the new wound closes.
I want Rowan to finish the job, but as much as the need to be done with this irks me, I stay back. It’s his kill. I promised that to him.
Rowan kneels on the plastic sheet, but as I still, convinced he’s going to use his weight to plunge the knife into that bastard’s heart, his shoulders drop, and he glances my way. His eyes are clouded, as if he were lost in the fog and in need of my guidance. “I know, I know. I’m just…” He takes another trembling breath. “I want him dead, but it’s just hard to…”