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Daddy's Stepstalker (Daddy's Little Deviants)

Page 78

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I let out my breath slowly. Thank god that didn’t work out like he’d planned. Clothes rustled, the bed dipped, and then I heard what could only be one thing. The sound of Judd jacking off. The bed rocked gently, and soon his grunts filled the room.

“Shit.”

The rocking stopped. I stayed put and waited fifteen minutes to make sure he was completely out. When there was no movement, I slowly inched out from under the bed. I straightened to my full height, the tension in my body easing. He was sprawled on the bed, his shirt rustled up to his stomach and his cock hanging out of his jeans.

I touched Judd’s body gently at first, then harder. Satisfied he was out for the count, I grabbed him by the armpits and pulled him off the bed. He landed with a thud on the rug, and I held my breath, but he didn’t wake up. Holding him by his hands, I dragged him to his bathroom, the rug helping him slide over the floor, then dashed downstairs to the basement, where I had stored what I needed. When I returned to the bathroom, I used a pair of handcuffs to cuff his hands behind him. Chains wound around both ankles and up his legs all the way up to his chest. Then I stood back to admire my handiwork.

Judd weighed a fucking ton, and it took all my strength to roll him into the huge old-fashioned clawfoot bathtub. I couldn’t stop his body’s momentum from hitting the side of the tub, and a gush of blood splashed against the white interior where he hit his head.

While I waited for Judd to revive, I removed the bathroom curtains and soaked the towels in the sink. I’d set up his own phone on a tripod. It didn’t take more than thirty minutes for the propofol to wear off, enough time for me to get everything set up for the grand finale. He squirmed in his chains, his movements becoming more forceful as the drug wore off.

“What the hell?” he grunted. “This isn’t funny.”

Only then did I get up from the toilet seat. His eyes widened, shifting from me to the blow torch I had in my right hand.

“Hello, Judd. Missed me?”

“You’re Shaw’s boy. What do you think you’re doing? Remove these chains now.”

“You’re not in charge, Judd. You might want to start begging instead of making demands.”

He eyed the torch again. “What are you going to do?”

“It depends.” I nodded at the camera. “Maybe I’ll let you walk free if you confess to all the things you’ve done.”

“I did nothing, I swear.”

I frowned. “Tsk, tsk, I don’t like lies, Judd. Maybe you don’t appreciate your life, and that’s why you’re taking this so lightly.”

“I am not.”

“Then tell the truth. I want you to confess about what you did to the library, what you do to your son and the underage kid you’re fucking.”

Because no matter how willing that boy was, he was still too young, and Judd was taking advantage. I’d been that young boy once, full of worship of my own idol, but the only difference was that Shaw was no Judd. Shaw never encouraged my attention or used the way I felt about him to engage in an inappropriate relationship with me.

And a good thing too, or I might have grown to resent him.

“Please. I-I’ll build back the house,” he said, his voice rising. “I swear I will. Just let me go.”

“I’m giving you one chance only to get this right.” I’d seen him use his phone often enough to know it had face recognition. I held it up to Judd’s face to unlock the device, then opened the video. “You have one shot at confessing what you’ve done wrong and asking for forgiveness.”

“Come on, I can—”

“Three.”

“We can work something out.”

“Two.”

“There’s nothing he can give you that I can’t. I can give you so much more.”

“One. Lights, camera, action.”

I clicked the Start button, and the red light blinked on the phone. I fell silent, not wanting anything about me to be seen or heard on that video. Tomorrow or whenever his body was discovered, I wanted people to know the horrible, disgusting things this man had done. For them to know he didn’t warrant their sympathy after the fires, the life he’d taken, and the innocent ones he'd ruined.

“I-it was me,” he finally said softly, staring at the camera. “The library fire wasn’t an accident. I deliberately set the building on fire so we’d get the contract to build a new one, but I swear I had no idea anyone was inside. I’m not a killer.”

When he paused, I made a half-circle motion with my index finger to encourage him to continue.



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