Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“What the hell?” Blake asks.
I move behind the gagged man tied securely to the rock. His eyes widen at us both, and he writhes like a bug under someone’s thumb. He’s not going anywhere, so I spare him little attention and spread my arms with a smile.
“Tah-da!”
Blake covers the lower part of his face and shakes his head. “What is he doing here?”
I’m a little deflated by this reaction, but I guess he’s taken aback with no context. “You love the Christmas Killer, and you have an interest in the nitty gritty of crime, so I thought you’d like to see me at work.” I pick up one of the knives I left here earlier as my victim whines and wiggles.
He looks like the perfectly average suburban dad, but I know he’s not, so I have no qualms about his suffering.
Blake’s hands drop at his sides, and he shakes his head. Is it just me, or is his breathing a little ragged? “I am interested in it in theory! It’s not like I watch murder scene pictures for fun! I’m not that kind of person!”
And yet, he’s staying put.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other. Have I misjudged this?
“You don’t? I…I’m sorry, but I got the impression you were really curious. Like… to an unusual level. You paid someone to hack the FBI just so you could get more crime scene imagery.”
“For research!”
I take a deep breath and lean against the rock, fighting my frustration. I didn’t want to pull out the big guns, but he’s in denial, and I need to make him see reason. “And you stabbed the last guy in the throat for research?”
It’s dark, but while I don’t see his skin paling, I feel the temperature drop by several degrees as Blake focuses on me with a tight set to his mouth. “I was protecting us from an assassin. And besides, he was practically dead after you cut his nose off!”
My next victim lets out a whimper, sobs, and thrashes against the rope I used to restrain him. His gaze seeks Blake’s help, and my stomach drops when I realize my boyfriend might just want to aid this worm in order to teach me a lesson.
“You don’t die from a cut nose,” I complain. “And he was already tied down. All you were protecting was your own skin, because don’t think I didn’t notice you only acted when he started telling on you. And I’m past that, I’ve come to terms with your little double-crossing, but don’t twist it around on me.”
Blake stills, and his Adam’s apple rolls up and down his neck as he’s forced to swallow that truth. “Well, he was there to kill us both, which is pretty unforgivable. What did this bastard do?” he asks, gesturing at the writhing man.
He’s either being obnoxious or getting on board with the plan. Only time will tell. “Oh, you will like this!” I clear my throat. “Not the crime, his crime is terrible, but that… you know, that he’s caught. This little worm,” I poke his forehead hard without looking away from Blake, since it makes no difference if I poke the bastard’s eye out at this point. He’s dying anyway. “Killed his elderly neighbor and suffered no consequences because of a technicality.”
Blake’s expression softens, warming my heart.
Kurt, because that’s our victim’s name, thrashes like a dying fish. He keeps trying to scream into the gag I’ve stuffed in his mouth, no doubt attempting to give me reasons why his actions were justified, but this won’t make a difference. I can see Blake believes me, and that’s all I care about.
His pretty face sobers. “When you said you were looking for information on my brother and how we can take him down, were you actually watching this guy?”
I still, because that’s not an angle I was expecting, and my mouth goes dry, because I’m suddenly a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. “I mean… this just fell into my lap. I was also checking the security on your brother’s villa and all that.”
Blake shakes his head, starting to pace. He’s no longer bothered by the fact that I led him to a man I was about to kill, but his shock seems to have been replaced by anger. “Fell into your lap? Really? How does a staged murder fall into one’s lap, huh? I believed you when you said we need to lie low, but this is hardly that, isn’t it? Every night, I worry that I might wake up with a knife to my throat, and here you are, hunting people down for funsies?”
His shouting echoes in the cave, getting so loud I have shivers by the time he’s done.
My shoulders sag. “You worry I will hurt you?”
Blake cocks his head, takes a deep breath, and speaks, full of exasperation. “I worry Carl will somehow track us down and send more people after us. More than you can handle. And even if it was just one guy, you are not superhuman!”