Killer Page 4

  His eyes are half-mast now. “That depends on what you consider a crime. You have a husband, don’t you?”

  “Yes, so?” I raise an eyebrow.

  He cocks his head, a smile slowly building on his face. “What did you have in mind?”

  I lean in and whisper in his ear, “You. Me. That room in the back of that obscure hallway.”

  When I arch my back and look out into the room, I can clearly spot Phillip watching me. I don’t give a damn what he thinks. I’m going for it. I actually want him to see what I’m about to do.

  Phoenix turns to me. His eyes are narrowed, and his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. Then he brings the glass to his mouth and chugs down all the remaining champagne.

  No words come from his mouth. Instead, he puts down the glass and checks the room before grabbing my hand and dragging me down the hallway to that one room I mentioned. With one last glance to see if anyone’s following us, he opens the door, pulls us both inside, and slams it shut before closing the lock.

  “You seduced the wrong man, lady,” he says.

  When he steps closer, I take a step back, taunting him to come and get me. Only one step and I’m out of space to flee. This is just a small room they use to store tables and chairs for parties. I picked it exactly because it’s obscure and the door can be locked from the inside. This isn’t the first time I’ve been to a party at this venue. Nor is this my first rodeo.

  “Why’s that?” I ask.

  “You know exactly why. It’s the reason you picked me as your target in the first place. Women like you are all the same.” He pushes aside a table to come near me.

  “Oh? So you have experience with this? Tell me more,” I retort.

  “Plenty, but there’s always room to add one more,” he growls.

  When he’s in front of me, he places his hands on the table behind me and corners me. “Are you afraid?”

  He leans forward, his face inches away from mine as if he’s gauging how I’ll react.

  I shake my head.

  “You should be,” he whispers.

  “Yes,” I whimper when his lips come so close I can feel his hot breath on my skin.

  “My jobs are the kind that gets people killed. You come seeking love from the devil himself,” he whispers, chuckling. “Why?”

  His lips are inches away from mine, and I arch to meet his mouth, but he won’t let me kiss him. “I need it,” I say.

  “Are you that desperate?” he asks.

  I frown. “Are you trying to persuade me not to do this or something?”

  “I’m trying to save you your marriage,” he says, frowning. “And your safety.”

  “I don’t care,” I say, closing my eyes.

  “You just want me to take you,” he says. “Like a needy housewife.”

  “Yes,” I say, trying not to sound pathetic. I just threw all of my morals out of the window. Do I care? Not even a little bit. Anything for the sake of vengeance.

  “All right. I’ll fuck you, missy. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk away from this party without wobbling legs.”

  “Fuck, yes …” I mutter.

  He smashes his lips onto mine before I can say anything else.

  His lips are ruthless, overtaking my mouth like he wants to devour me whole. He isn’t gentle or sweet. He just takes what he wants, kissing me full on the lips with raw excitement. His tongue swipes over my mouth, probing so I open my mouth and let him in. His neediness blows me away; his kisses demanding as he swoops me off the floor and places me on the table. I moan into his mouth as he grabs my arms and forces his mouth onto mine. I can hardly breathe.

  “You wanted this, so now I’ll take what I want the way I want it.”

  His hand moves to my dress, which he scrunches up until his hands are gripping my bare waist. From there he rips down my panties in one go, almost tugging me off the table. I barely manage to hold on.

  “Holy shit,” I mutter as he kicks them aside and places his hand on my neck, pulling me in for another kiss.

  “Shut up and enjoy the ride, Princess.”

  Princess. I rarely hear that nickname. It feels good to hear it, though.

  No time to react. He pulls my hair back roughly, and his lips press a kiss on my neck, sucking so hard that it leaves a mark. They drag down toward my chest until he reaches the top of my dress. With one big tug, he rips it down, exposing my breast.

  I squeal. “Be careful.”

  His grip on my hair tightens as he pulls my head back. “No, Princess. You don’t get to decide how to play this game. You came to the lion’s den. Now, you do what the lion wants. And I want to fill up your tight pussy with my cum. Think you can handle that?”

  I nod, swallowing. “Not without a condom, though,” I add.

  He cocks his head, an amused look flashing on his face. “You think I would risk my own health for some pussy, Princess? Even if your fucking pussy was made out of pure gold, I wouldn’t risk it. Now, lie down,” he growls.

  He pushes me down before I can say anything. My head hits the table as he spreads my legs and presses his thumb right on top of my clit. “Let’s get this pussy nice and wet, shall we?”

  I pant and squirm from his touch, which is impossibly good. My head is spinning, my heart is racing, and my body is so goddamn ready for this man … this man who defies everything I should involve myself in.

  But I want it. I need it.

  Even if this man takes from me what he wants without control, I still want what he offers. This rage feels incredible, powerful, like a drug. I can’t get enough. I gave him permission to use me, and now I want the beast unleashed.

  This man is my ultimate fantasy, what I’ve always dreamed of doing but never dared because of the meaning of the rock on my ring finger. This man … this man is danger incarnated.

  He’ll be the death of me.

  ***

  Present

  The memory repeats itself in my head, and I can’t get rid of the shudder caused by the thought of our short affair. Arthur has put on a gloomy face, his frown seemingly permanent. Of course, he wouldn’t like me telling him this. It’s like holding a lollypop in front of a child and then putting it in your own mouth. Arthur wants what I had with that man. He’s wanted it for years, but it wasn’t right, and we both knew that.

  I sigh. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

  “No, it’s okay.”

  “Ma’am?” The police standing in the doorway again suddenly distract me.

  “Oh, you’re back,” I say.

  I wonder how long they’ve been standing there, and if they heard everything I said. Will they use it against me?

  “Do you have any news?” I ask quickly.

  “Well, there’s been an examination of your husband’s body, and what they found wasn’t what we were expecting.”

  I slam my mouth shut, afraid of what they’re going to say.

  “I think you’d better sit down,” they say to Arthur as he gets up from his chair.

  “Tell me what happened to my brother,” he says. “It wasn’t just an accident, was it?”

  “No.”

  I hold my breath.

  It feels like I’m choking.

  “Phillip Starr was poisoned.”

  My whole world falls to pieces the moment he speaks the words.

  Everything I know will change forever.

  I knew it the moment I saw the light leave his eyes and his lifeless arms rest on the steering wheel. The crash didn’t cause his death. My husband was murdered.

  “Murdered?” I mutter.

  My eyes widen. The horror sinks in.

  And then the real shock smacks me in the face like a brick.

  I know how he died … he died because of me.

  CHAPTER 5

  PHOENIX

  During the party…

  With a drink in my hand, I watch my target vehemently. I have to time this perfectly, wait for the time to surreptitiously make my move. It’s already quite suspicious that I’m just standing here at the bar, doing nothing but eyeballing the partygoers while slurping drinks. I’ve already had a few people glance at me with disgusted looks on their face. Each time, I look straight into their eyes until they get so creeped out they just turn their heads and leave. I love fucking with people. In the literal sense of the word as well, of course.

  Especially that girl standing next to her supposed husband. Fuck, it’s so wrong. All he does is grope other women. I’ve seen his hands all over that other woman’s butt several times, even though they’re presumably friends. I don’t understand why she accepts it. I would have killed the son of a bitch a long time ago.

  Suddenly, she turns her head toward me, and I’m awestruck at the furious look on her face. That sparkle in her eyes … I recognize it … it’s the thirst for vengeance. Lucky for the both of us¸ the booze is over here.

  I wait until she approaches me with her hips swaying back and forth in that white dress of hers. The fake smile plastered on her face pisses me off to no end because it makes me want to shake some sense into her. What the fuck is she doing here and why the fuck did she marry that man? Although, I think she might be asking herself that same question right now.

  I’ve noticed her checking me out. It’s been a long time since a woman actively wanted my attention; most of the time, they’re scared for their lives. I can’t say I don’t enjoy it, although I could crush the glass in my hands right now. I hate it when I’m distracted from my target, but damn, this fucking girl … I just want to fuck some sense into her. Maybe I’ll do just that.

  She’s too pretty to let go. Fucking wasn’t on my to-do list tonight, but I’ll gladly put her on it. I’d be a fool to turn that down. Besides, she’s the wi
fe of the man I’m going to kill. I’d call that an added bonus.

  ***

  VANESSA

  Later on at the party …

  Phoenix wipes the lipstick stains from his cheek as I put my panties back on and pull my dress back together, trying to make it look like less of a mess. The content smirk on his face, coupled with my insatiable hunger for revenge, is shameful. It was worth it. I want to see the look on Phillip’s face the moment he sees me walking out of this room, all flushed and high on endorphins. The only thing Phillip isn’t able to give me; pleasure.

  When Phoenix throws the condom in the trash, he turns to open the door.

  “Hey,” I say. “Am I ever going to see you again?”

  “What do you mean? We’re both at the same party, and I’m not leaving until I finish the job.”

  “I mean … after the party.” I swallow, unsure of what I should say, if I should even say anything. What we did was unspeakable, loathsome, and we did it anyway. There’s some sort of dark bond between us now, something invisible that I can’t explain or even put into words. All I know is that we share something that no one else at this party can even fathom. Something primal, something vicious. Something evil.

  “That’s not up to me,” he says, running his fingers through his coal black hair.

  I get off the table as he holds the door open and waits for me to approach. “Then who is it up to?” I ask.

  Cocking his head, he gazes at me without speaking a word. I refuse to pass him before he does, facing him with equal determination.

  “You,” he says.

  I frown, but he doesn’t allow me to ask another question. He simply leaves the room without me. I guess chivalry has its limits.

  I follow him outside, glancing sideways to catch Phillip’s eyes narrowing and honing in on me. The moment our eyes lock, my body explodes in pure euphoria, and a devilish smile appears on my face, my heart pumping adrenaline through my veins. I’ve succeeded in my goal; the ultimate payback.

  I follow my one-time lover to the bar where he orders another drink.

  “You still following me?” he asks.

  “You say that as if you dislike it.”

  “That’s because I still have a job to do, and you’re distracting me quite a bit with your voluptuous body.”

  I smile at him, leaning in to place my hand on his shoulder, making sure Phillip is watching. “I’ll distract you anytime.”

  He turns his head ever so slightly. “Taking women is like sipping wine. Only take a sip. Otherwise, they might overpower you.”

  I chuckle. “Touché.” I lean forward to grab a drink off the table. “I’d rather be the wine than the vinegar, though.”

  “I enjoyed tasting you, missus,” he murmurs. “But all good things must come to an end.”

  “No more Princess? Oh, boo.”

  He leans in to whisper in my ear. “Not here, no, but in my mind, you’ll always be.”

  I grin, getting all hot again just from thinking about his hands on my hips.

  I look at Phillip, who’s almost crushing his glass in his hand. I love the look on his face, like someone just stomped on his balls while he was lying on the ground, begging for mercy. I chug down my drink. I don’t think I would stop jumping, though.

  “You should get back to your husband. I’m sure he’s not too pleased to see you.” He laughs a bit. When I look at him, he’s holding a glass in his hands, one he wasn’t holding before. “Here, take this with you.” He smirks, his tongue darting out to lick the barbell underneath his lip. “To ease his pain.”

  I smile back. “Good thinking. You and I make a great team.”

  “Keep that fantasy to yourself. There’s no you in this team.” He points at himself. “I have some things to do. Now, go on. Go back to your husband and give him his drink.”

  He pushes the glass into my hand and nudges me toward Phillip. I hesitantly walk toward him, constantly looking back at Phoenix, wondering if he’ll disappear. The further I get away from him, the more the gravity of what I’ve done sinks in. There is something about him, something in his eyes that I shouldn’t ignore. Something vicious, just like before, only this time it has nothing to do with fucking. They’re the eyes of a killer.

  Why did he hand me this glass? And more importantly, why did I take it?

  I should go back to him, but then I realize it’s too late. I’m already right behind Phillip, and he’s noticed me. He stops talking to the woman next to him and focuses his attention on me.

  I smile. Then I glance over my shoulder.

  One look is all it takes to destroy my world.

  And still I hand Phillip the glass.

  I should’ve gone with my instinct, should’ve walked away, but I didn’t. In this one split second, I trust the wrong thing. Or maybe it wasn’t trust after all … maybe it was the insatiable need for vengeance that drove me to hand the glass to Phillip.

  I knew it wasn’t right.

  I had it coming for me.

  And yet, I did it anyway.

  ***

  Present

  I gasp, taking in the news. My husband was poisoned. I should’ve stopped myself when I handed that glass to him, but by the time I realized, it was already too late. There was poison in his glass. Of course, it all makes sense now. He was after my husband to begin with, and now the deal is done. My husband is dead because of me. Even if I hated him with my guts, I didn’t want him to die. At least, not by my own hands.

  That man is a killer, and he used me as his murder weapon.

  I killed my own fucking husband.

  No way am I going to get away with this.

  CHAPTER 6

  VANESSA

  Days later

  Rain pours down from above, crashing down onto our umbrellas. The sky is dark with gloom, thunder booming every so often. With clattering teeth, I hold onto my black dress so it doesn’t blow over my head. What a dreadful day. Not just the weather, though. Mostly the fact that we’re standing in the graveyard, watching my husband’s casket lower into the ground.

  Arthur holds onto me, rubbing my arm as they start shoveling up the wet earth. I just watch the ordeal and try to picture myself crying. It’s the least I can do, even though it’s not working. Maybe thinking about it will work.

  There aren’t many guests at his funeral. Half of his friends are inside, where it’s warm and comfy, waiting for the rest of us to come in as well … the other half was happy he was dead. I’m not sure which camp I belong to.

  The hospital finally lets me out of their grasp after I begged them numerous times. I was so done with that place, especially after they got all suspicious about Arthur and me. As if we’re not allowed to hold hands and tell each other it’ll be okay. I don’t care if anyone thinks it’s wrong; we both needed someone who understood what we were going through.

  He lost his brother, and I lost my husband. We both think Phillip is a complete douchebag. We’re both happy he’s gone. Glad that we finally get to spend time with each other without him looking over our shoulders.

  Even if it’s wrong, it’s too good to deny.

  I should feel upset about Phillip’s death, but all I feel is anger. Toward him, but also his killer. Why was I involved? Was it an accident? Maybe my husband was supposed to die from the poison, and we weren’t supposed to get into the car. Maybe it didn’t go as planned, and maybe I was a loose end in the entire scheme.

  If so, I bet he isn’t counting on me remembering everything.

  He probably knows I survived, so he must be watching us closely. I doubt he’ll take the news well if he finds out I can recall the name of my husband’s killer.

  Waiting for the sand to fill the grave is not a good time to be pondering these things, but still I can’t stop thinking about it. I never expected it to be him—the man I slept with at the party, out of all people. It’s as if the devil himself played me.

  Maybe he knew all along. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe I was just another conquest, just another person he could kill.