Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 15455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
Once I’m up to the floor this Dean Johnson lives at, my heartbeat slowly picks up as I count down all the numbers on each door until I reach his.
I pause in front of the door and listen to the sounds coming from behind it.
Lots of screeching women. Moaning. Sloshing sounds like someone is vicariously stirring through some homemade butter. Not the good kind.
My nostrils begin to twitch again like they always do when my blood begins to boil.
Is this motherfucker busy with tricking yet another woman?
I knock on the door, then grab one of the tissues from my pocket and clean my fingers.
The mere thought of touching his things is disgusting, but I don’t want to alert the rest of the people living in this building by just breaking into his place.
I tuck the tissue back in my pocket and wait.
The sound of footsteps hurriedly shutting off whatever was moaning tells me it was a recording.
“Just a minute,” the voice calls.
I don’t hear any other people or footsteps as he rushes to the door.
It’s opened slightly, and he peeks at me through the slit. “What do you want?”
Within seconds, I’ve fished my gun from my pocket and shove it into the opening, putting a foot between so he can’t close it on me. “Move. Now.”
The man’s eyes widen, and he immediately steps back. I walk inside, breathing through my mouth because of the stench. There’s half-eaten food and unwashed clothes everywhere, the bane of my existence. Triggers all around, but the biggest of them all is the guy’s face.
“What do you want? I don’t have anything. No cash, nothing,” he squeals.
“Sit your ass down,” I growl, shoving him into the couch he was just on. I can still see the cum stain on the fake leather, as well as on his cheap pants.
“Please, just take anything you want,” he says, holding up his hands.
“What did you do to Emilia?” I ask.
He frowns, visibly confused. “Who?”
“Emilia!” I shove the gun further into his forehead. “Long black hair. Cupid lips. Pretty girl.” I seethe with rage. “Pregnant.”
His pupils dilate.
So he does know her.
“Pregnant?” he mutters, shaking his head. “No, that’s not possible. I—”
“So you do remember.” I pull the safety off the trigger.
“No, I don’t remember shit.” He’s gotten pretty pissed off at that comment, it seems. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
I pull away the gun, only to shoot his foot.
He shrieks in agony as blood gushes out.
“You fucking shot me!” he growls.
I point it at his crotch. “Yeah, and your dick is next if you don’t answer me.”
Panic seeps into his eyes. “Okay, okay, I knew her, yes!”
“How?”
“We had sex,” he splutters out.
“And?” I grit.
“She should’ve been on the pill.”
“She wasn’t,” I growl back. “And you refused a condom, didn’t you?”
Sweat drops roll down his forehead as he cowers in the corner of his couch. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t,” I say through gritted teeth. “Not to me.”
And I grab him by the collar and drag him out of this disgusting cave of a house and all the way down the staircase and out of the building, throwing him in the back of the car.
“Shield up. Lock him in place,” I tell my driver. “We’re going for a ride.”
***
He’s been kicking and screaming his lungs out in the back of my car for twenty minutes. To no avail, of course. This car is soundproof for a reason, as well as impervious to any kind of attack, whether from the inside or the outside.
That’s normal when it comes to my line of work.
But my usual victims are rich and sophisticated, not these boneheaded disgusting little perverts.
But for her, I will do the work.
I will stomach the stench of this filth as long as it takes just so I can fix what he broke.
Repairing small inches of this world is what I do best. Just picking up one broken porcelain teacup and gluing all the pieces together again with golden paint until it’s brand new and sparkling even brighter than it ever did before it was destroyed.
And she … she will fucking shine when I am done polishing her.
“Let me out!” Dean squeals from the back.
My hand forms a fist at the thought of this fucker touching her, let alone forcing her to have sex without protection. I was this close to just shooting his dick off and letting that be his punishment for his crime.
He should feel lucky he’s in the back of my car instead of buried underground.
When the car finally stops, I hop out and walk up to my guards at the front door. “Bring the fucker inside. Cuff him. Make sure he can’t do any harm.”
“Yes, sir,” they both reply, and I head inside. “Is she still there?” I ask one of the maids, who nods.