He whimpered and stepped back.
I directed my view to her.
When the water rose over her legs, I turned it off.
“I wish you could get me a washcloth, Noah.” I didn’t want to let her body go. If I did, she would sink into the water. Maybe she wouldn’t drown or land in an awkward position, but I couldn’t risk it.
Or maybe I just don’t want to stop touching her.
I used my hands and splashed water over Phoenix’s bloodied skin. The water shifted from clear to pink. When I was satisfied, I let the water out.
Then and only then did I let her body go and grab a towel.
Almost done.
Minutes later, I lay her dry body on my bed.
I hadn’t been prepared to have her sleep with me. The plan was to kill her after she gave up the address and bury her in the back.
She never gave up her friend, even in the face of death.
I studied her.
That’s honorable.
The only people I would die for was my siblings. Everyone else could go to hell. I would give them up in seconds.
She must consider her friend a family member.
Noah watched me as I placed antibiotic cream on every cut and then covered them with sterile bandages.
How long will it take her to heal?
Already, I yearned to cut her again.
Already, I craved to touch more of her blood.
I dressed Phoenix in one of my old sleeveless undershirts.
Long ago, people would call the shirts wifebeaters. I remembered my father always telling my mother to grab a wifebeater from the drawer, and my mother scrunching her face up in horror. But she never said anything.
Like many fucked up things, the entire world had accepted this connection of ribbed tank tops to the brutal violence against women. And no one really thought it was odd. The world made peace with the layers of meaning.
Now people canceled the usage of the term. Yet, men still beat their wives. But, perhaps, they did so in other shirts.
I studied Phoenix in my shirt. I loved the way the bleached-white fabric hung from her brown, curvy body. It was too big, yet still her breasts pushed the shirt out, revealing lovely cleavage.
I could have rushed off to the main house, snuck into my younger sister’s bedroom, and grabbed some stretchy pants and a shirt. While Erin was a teen, they were closer in size.
Maybe I’ll grab some stuff later. It will depend on how long I keep her alive.
The clear fact was that eventually, I would have to kill Phoenix.
However, I hated that fact. I’d enjoyed her blood and pussy too much. The whole moment was cruel sensuality mixed with animalistic delight.
What will West and Griff make of this?
I watched her as she slept.
I’ll need to add bindings to the bed. I can’t do it now. It’ll wake her.
She needed the sleep because I had more planned for her body.
I never got to try the needles and razors on that pretty skin.
At the thought, my dick throbbed at the tip. I could see myself licking the wounds.
I can’t do that. I must calm down.
The human mouth was a cesspool of bacteria. One lap of the wound could spread bacteria and infections. Still, I’d licked her anyway, and would probably lap at her wounds.
How will I remain disciplined?
My doorbell sounded within the silence.
Who’s that?
I grabbed my gun from the drawer next to my bed.
Chapter 12
Change of Plan
Cain
T
he doorbell rang again.
Holding my gun, I rose from the bed and looked down at myself. Phoenix’s blood-stained my chest and jeans. I still had the top button open.
I have too much shit to do tonight. This better be quick.
Phoenix’s blood decorated the ground in my torture room, shifting from ruby red to deep brown. I would need to mop that up as well as sterilize all the tools I’d used this evening. Once done, I had to clean myself up and bind Phoenix’s wrists and ankles.
Wagging his tail, Noah sat at the altar steps. He wasn’t allowed to come into the bedroom space.
I pointed at him. “Watch her.”
Noah yipped.
The doorbell sounded again.
Oh, bloody hell. I’m coming.
That third ring told me it was Griff. He was so damn impatient. He would ring it over and over until I opened it.
At least, I don’t have to hide this blood from him.
When I arrived at the door, I pushed in the code. A beep sounded. The electronic door unlatched and opened.
Griff ducked his head in. “Are you done yet?”
I blocked the way and gestured for him to back up. “You can’t come in. Let’s talk outside.”
“Why can’t I come in?” He caught the blood on my chest. “She’s dead already. I figured you would need help burying the body.”
You mean you wanted to touch the corpse.
I stepped out onto my porch. “There’s been a change in the plan.”