Sick Fux - Page 24

The Warden and his wife were lying in bed, their blood seeping from the stab wounds Hyde had inflicted on them. Hyde was panting, out of breath, eyes lit with bloodlust.

Chapel walked to the closet and pulled out a shirt and pants. When dressed, he said, “We need money and a car. I’ll get the keys for the car, you two find cash. There’s no way this fucker kept what he was being paid in a bank.”

Thirty minutes later, we were in a truck, Chapel in the driver’s seat. Hyde called shotgun, and I took the back, bags of the Warden’s money surrounding me. I stared out the window as we crossed states, driving to one of Chapel’s secret houses. I thought of Dolly, and the plan I had concocted with the help of Chapel and Hyde.

For the next few months I planned my return, gathering the information I needed to make it all go without a hitch. I trained to kill with Hyde. I worked on my detailed plan with Chapel. Bought clothes. Had weapons made. Conversed with the corrupt private investigator Chapel knew from his days before the Water Tower.

After three months, I was ready.

Ready to come back for my girl.

Ready to lead her down the rabbit hole.

Ready to kill with her by my side.

Chapter 5

Heathan

Rabbit

I took the box from the trunk and stood at the bottom of the stone stairs that led to the main door. My hand flexed around the rabbit head of my cane, my teeth gritted together and my jaw clenched.

Dolly, I reminded myself. You’re here for Dolly.

Cracking my neck, I narrowed my eyes on the front door and took the first step. With every footstep taken, I smelled the smoke from their cigars. I heard their breath in my ear. But I kept going. I kept going even though I heard their grunts, their laughs . . . felt them above me, rocking back and forth.

“You’re ready to get your darlin’?” Chapel had asked me several days ago.

“My Dolly,” I had shot back.

“Your little Dolly darlin’”. He had smiled and bowed like he always did. “Then, young Dapper Dan, send her my loving regards, and Godspeed.” A slow smile. “May the devil be firmly on your side . . .”

“Dolly darlin’,” I repeated under my breath, glancing up to the high windows I knew were hers. I turned the knob on the door, the old wood creaking loudly as it opened. A cloud of warm air hit my face. Air filled with a thick, stale dust. I stepped into the hallway, my eyes immediately relieved by the lack of light. My eyes didn’t like the light after being in the dark for so long. I looked to my left and saw a mass of white sheets covering the dining furniture. The first living room was the same. Everything was covered. Hidden away, like they had never existed. Like this fucked-up house of hell didn’t have secrets and screams trapped in its walls, pulsing as one passed. Didn’t have the echo of kids’ cries and pain.

Didn’t vibrate with depravity.

Brow furrowing, I looked down at my hand on my cane. It was shaking. I hissed, my head tilting to the side at my body’s rare display of emotion. I never felt anything. Nothing, save the urge to kill and destroy those who destroyed us.

But then there was Dolly . . . there were the memories of this damned place. The shadows that sought me out at night, forced me to constantly relive the feeling of violation. The demons of the past that made me replay each moment, every puff of breath on my ear, every sliver of sweat-soaked skin sliding against my own.

A noise from upstairs made me snap back into focus. I held the box tighter in my other hand and made for the stairs. One step, two steps, three steps . . . I kept my eyes focused on the floor above. I moved my hand over the rabbit head, flicking my finger over the latch that would unleash its hell if needed.

When I reached the top, the carpets musty and stale beneath my feet, the red and gold of the walls faded and the wallpaper peeling, I caught the distant sound of footsteps withdrawing down the stairs to my right. I closed my eyes, listening to the sounds. My eyes snapped open and my lips curled back over my teeth.

I knew who those footsteps belonged to.

I walked forward, toward a door that was a beacon to everything I was. Stopping before the closed door, I stared at the wood. Silly Rabbit, I heard in my head, a voice from the past. A light smile, laughing blue eyes, a high-pitched giggle and a playful scold. You’re my most favorite person in the whole wide world, Rabbit. I hope you know that.

Tags: Tillie Cole Erotic
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