Sick Fux - Page 45

She left the blood dripping from the filigree-patterned blade and stared at the door. I joined her. I knew what she was smelling—I was smelling it too.

Hashish.

“The Caterpillar,” Dolly said under her breath.

“The Caterpillar,” I repeated. “I’ll get to him first.” Dolly turned to argue, but I held up my hand, stopping her mid-breath. “I’ll secure him so he can’t move.” I reached down and stroked along the wet blood on her blade—up and down and up and down . . . stroking. Her cheeks flushed as my fingers almost touched hers. I brought my finger to my mouth and sucked the blood. My teeth ran over my bottom lip, and I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, Dolly was watching me with blatant hunger in her gaze. I bent down, placing my mouth at her ear, and said, “Then he’s all yours.”

Dolly moaned, causing my already hard dick to twitch. I slammed my shoulder against the door. The wood gave way, and I wasted no time in rushing in. I followed the scent of tobacco, letting it guide me to a large desk. A gun sounded from somewhere behind it, but the aim was pitiful and lacked precision. I looked down . . . and there he was.

A red mist descended.

The Caterpillar’s fat body was quivering in the corner, his hookah by his side. His head was down and his eyes were closed . . . until they opened and landed straight on me. I let him stare. I let him piece together exactly who stood before him.

I waited—tick tock—waited—tick tock—waited—tick . . . until . . . “Heathan . . .” He shook his head in disbelief, double chin wobbling. His lips pulled back from his stained yellow teeth. “Impossible . . . you were locked away.”

I bent down and kicked away the gun he had dropped after his piss-poor shot. “That’s the thing about a prison full of psycho killers.” I unsheathed my cane and brought the spiked blade to hover at his throat. “We can manipulate an escape and kill those who stupidly kept us all captive.”

He blanched. “H-he’ll . . . h-he’ll know you’ve got out. He’ll know.”

I tilted my head, not breaking his terrified gaze. “I’m counting on it.”

“Rabbit?” Dolly’s voice called from the doorway. “Do you have him yet?” The Caterpillar’s face paled even further. “I’m bored. I want to have some fun!”

“Coming, darlin’.” I smiled as the Caterpillar locked eyes on me. “My Dolly has joined me. You remember her, don’t you?” My face hardened. “Get the fuck up.”

The Caterpillar shook his head. I pushed the tip of my blade into his shoulder. He screamed. I smiled. “I wasn’t requesting. I was insisting.”

The Caterpillar cried out in pain but scurried to his feet. Using the blade in his shoulder as my leash, I guided him out from behind the desk, kicking the wheeled office chair behind him. I pushed harder on the blade, and he sat down. I reached into my pocket for the duct tape and began securing him to the chair.

When I finished, I saw a flash of blue in the door. “Rabbit . . . I said I’m bored!” The Caterpillar turned his head toward the doorway.

“Ellis,” he murmured, and Dolly’s blue eyes snapped to his. Her lip curled in fury as he uttered that name.

She raised her blood-soaked blade and stormed to where he sat, her head dipped and her expression like fucking thunder. She sliced across his cheek with the flat side of the blade. Blood painted his face—not his, but the guard’s. “Don’t you dare say her name!” she hissed. The Caterpillar faced her again, eyebrows drawn down.

“Her name . . .?” He looked to me. Like I would fucking help. Clear things up.

Wrong.

“Yes. Her name.” Dolly narrowed her eyes and moved directly in front of him. She traced down his sweating cheek with the barrel of her gun. “You touched her when you weren’t supposed to.” She shook her head, clicking her tongue. “She didn’t want you to.” The Caterpillar swallowed, and Dolly backed up. She studied him, tied to the chair, duct tape around his middle. Her head tipped from side to side.

“Darlin’?” I asked. Dolly blew out a breath and turned to me, shoulders sagging. “What’s wrong?” I unbuttoned my jacket and shrugged it from my shoulders. I rolled up my sleeves and checked the time on my pocket watch. We had plenty left until the next guard shift.

“Is it time to go?”

I shook my head. “No. Plenty of time.” Her shoulders sagged again.

“It’s smashed,” the Caterpillar said. Dolly and I turned to face him. “The watch. It’s broken. It was broken back then and it’s broken now. You’re fucking insane! Always were.” He shook his head. “And why is she speaking with an English accent? She’s from Dallas!”

Tags: Tillie Cole Erotic
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