19. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Dahlia

A ri the pedo is here, all tied up in my back-back room.

A sheen of sweat has beaded on my forehead in the process, and I wipe it off with the back of my hand. Fuck. I haven't had that much trouble with a target in a long while.

I'm no stranger to taller, burlier men. Ones who put up a fight. This one's skinny and was easy to subdue, sure. The pedo dropped in a heartbeat when I beat him over the head with a baking tray.

My bandaged hand complicated the rest. I thought it was a challenge to bake with those on. Ha. Tying up a person like that is the true struggle.

Other than the bandages, I had the chastity belt to distract me. With every move I made, I thought about Tyler. Craved Tyler. Was distracted by Tyler.

That man .

At least I removed the bandage on my neck. If I'd kept those, it'd have been hot and scratchy on top of everything else. Satan knows I didn't need the extra struggle.

But alas, I got the job done without the pedo waking up on me. And I had Tyler on my mind. Still do.

Win-win.

Oh, look who's up.

"Let me go." Serves him right, lying bound and helpless on his back on top of my black tarp. "It hurts."

"Of course it hurts, silly. It's supposed to be painful. What's the worst of it, though? Inquiring minds want to know." This isn't taunting him. This is research. "Leaning all your weight on your arms or the duct tape around your ankles? The tray I slammed on your head? The other stuff I did? Be honest, and specific if possible. Here in Sweet DeNights, we value your feedback."

Boring brown eyes—not dark ones, like my Tyler's—cut to mine. Ari has been gazing at the ceiling up until now. Mumbling his prayers to his god. The god of pedophiles, probably.

Not anymore. I guess after fifteen minutes of being tortured by yours truly, he's come to the realization they all do. There's no god here. Only me.

Me, and the new addition of baby spiders that hatched on the ceiling this morning.

"Are you for real?" he grits, fighting against his restraints.

He's not answering my question, so I ignore his. My gaze trails up to the corner of the room where tiny baby spiders rummage around .

"Feels so wholesome, doesn't it?" I'm back to looking down at the bald, molesting fucker. "One life ends, and thirty more start."

"Are you insane?" The accusation is nothing but a weak breath.

"What did you just say to me?" I tilt my head, my voice derisive.

Ridiculing people is mean. That's why I only make fun of the bad ones. The ones I maim and fuck over.

"Insane."

His eyes roll to the back of his head, too overcome by the pain of being bound.

Or maybe it's the shots I gave him that could've caused this?

"Aww, such a crappy word choice." My teeth sink into my bottom lip that Tyler sucked on yesterday. My hand—the one that doesn't wield the syringe—is drawn to my neck. To Tyler's bite marks. "It's okay. I get it. Your brain must be a mess. Kinda difficult to think straight when you've had five shots of liquid sugar shot into your stomach, arms, and cheeks."

His insulin levels must be borderline lethal. I'm sure he'd seize in the next five minutes, if I'm being generous.

But not before I've had my version of justice. Not before I tell him exactly why he's here and why I'm the one sending him to hell.

"And you could be right. I might be insane." The needle of my newly filled syringe hovers over his shriveled cock. "Most days. "

He's done deplorable things with this…penis. Rubbed it to videos that should've never, ever been created in the first place. Had it hard next to kids who came to buy cupcakes at Sweet DeNights.

Fucker.

"Today isn't one of those days." I squeeze a small portion of liquid sugar on top of Ari's dick, and he screams. "I'm not crazy for trapping you here. I'm punishing you, and trust that I'm one hundred percent sane for that."

"The shots." His mumbled words are spoken past dried lips. "Y-You asked w-what's the worst part. The sh-sh-shots."

He thinks answering me will grant him a ticket out of here. Excuse me while I laugh.

"Thank you for your cooperation." Well, maybe I am a little crazy. Even now. "As a reward—"

The look he's giving me, oh, man, it's precious. Hope sparkles in his eyes. Through the thick haze of pain his body is experiencing, he actually thinks I'm going to let him loose.

"You're one of the dumb ones." I pat his cheek hard. Okay, fine. Not pat . I slap him. "Your reward is an explanation for why you're here. Aside from the child porn on your computer—fuck you for that, by the way—you touched kids in my shop. Two over the last year. Two. Kids . Their necks and shoulders and every other part of them are off fucking limits. I warned you after the first one, I told you to stop. You just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

The moment he had his filthy hand around a little boy, I saw red. I was seconds from leaping over the counter and sticking the knife I keep in my apron into his eye. Instead, I added him to my list.

Ari took the place of the obnoxiously loud neighbor in the apartment above mine. Her life was spared because ending his became a priority.

When he stroked the hair of a girl who stood before him—second offense, fucker—I grabbed the opportunity with both hands. I called him over to the counter and offered a complementary cupcake to my new devoted customer. Smiling through my wrath was a fucking pain. I did it regardless.

Then I lured him in. "I'm having an early Halloween baking party. Lots of neighborhood kids will be there."

Pedo sucker. I whispered the date and time to him, added a conspiratorial wink too. That part gave me the chills. Still did it.

"I thought you l-l-l-liked kids. Like me."

No. I most absolutely am not like him.

"My, my. So adamant on proving to me just how right I am. Just how dumb you really are." The syringe stops on top of his flaccid penis, grazing the crumpled skin. Ari jolts. "I tricked you, in case that wasn't obvious."

"My c-c-c-cock, no." A tear rolls out of the corner of his delirious eye. Another one joins it. "Don't pinch my cock."

"I can't help but wonder." I tap the needle on Ari's member. His shriek is scrumptious. "Has any kid begged you to stop?"

At that, he shuts up.

And I have my answer .

"Sugar rush, incoming." The satisfaction I get from injecting the needle into his offending penis is something else. "Ready or not…"

I press the plunger and voila . Liquid sugar rushes into his body. Joy erupts through mine. The kind I get from hurting mean, abusive fuckers. There's one person on my list this year that isn't a total piece of shit, but with her gone, I'll be happier. And that's what matters.

Enough about her, though.

There's the motherfucker here to deal with.

While I can't help but think about Tyler.

The belt feels a little more snug as I lean into Ari. A little hotter on my skin. The more liquid sugar I empty into his wee-wee, the deeper the metal digs into my flesh.

It's as if Tyler crouches right here next to me. Rubs my clit, calls me a good girl while destroying this monster. I can practically sense his presence in the dark room. Feel his arms around me, folding me into him.

Ty's online persona, CTCyfrin, pretends to hunt. A part of him likes the fact that I turned out to be a murderer, I'm sure of that. A huge part of him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have fucked me. Wouldn't have still loved me as fiercely.

We should talk about this.

Soon.

"Please, please." Ari's body shivers. Fortunately for me, he hasn't died. Yet. "Please."

"Okay, fiiiine ." I get up and kick him, rolling him over to his stomach. "I'm done with the shots."

" Grm brm grm brm . "

"Exactly." He stays where he is when I move to the table. One black oven mitt goes over my bandaged hand. The red one is for my unharmed hand. I head over to the heated oven, pulling out one of my metal whisks I put there earlier. " Grm brm grm brm . That's the appropriate response for this occasion."

Yesterday, I rushed things. Being tired and wondering if Tyler would come over or not took the fun out of killing the woman who kicks street cats every chance she gets. Bitch.

Today's different. My chastity belt is on. My ass is sore from last night. Tyler is one-hundred percent mine.

I'm brimming with life. With the need to inflict pain.

Revenge runs hot in my veins.

I'm going to thoroughly enjoy this one. After that, I'll skin him nice and fast, feed the street dogs, clean his bones, freeze them, and store the meat.

The icing on this evening's cake, though, that'll be waiting for me at home.

Tyler promised he'll be there. He couldn't wait to see me once and now he's coming for me again. On his own.

To say I'm the luckiest girl alive is—

Bzz. Bzz.

The phone in the pocket of my dark blue jeans buzzes. By the two quick consecutive vibrations, I know this isn't a text. This isn't a phone call.

Someone's out front. It's the intercom to the shop.

This shouldn't surprise me. I closed up less than an hour ago. There's always this or that customer who just has to have their cupcake fix. The Closed sign and the locked door aren't an obstacle when a person has a serious cupcake craving .

They'll have to wait until tomorrow. I have my game to play. A man waiting for me at home.

Home.

" Ckckckkkkk ." That's what Ari's labored breaths sound like, reminding me I'm not done with him.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." I raise the scorching whisk in my hand on my way to the pedo. "Low on patience today, aren't we?"

Bzz. Bzz.

I kick him, flipping him on his stomach. His nose scrunches on the tarp.

Bzz. Bzz.

Bzz. Bzz.

Most days, I would've been flattered by the person's insistence. Someone's obsession with my cupcakes is the biggest compliment a baker could ever get.

Today isn't it. I'm busy, goddammit.

The phone continues to vibrate in my pocket. I keep ignoring it as I pull on one of Ari's butt cheeks to the side.

"N-n-no."

"Y-y-yes."

It takes a bit of maneuvering and a lot of shoving to get the handle of the whisk deep inside his asshole. Lube would've helped.

Lube would've made the torture less painful for him.

Kinda defeats the purpose, doesn't it?

He screeches. The pain must be awful.

Which is exactly what I'm aiming for, being the most awful of them all and all that. I push the scorching tool in and out of him and he foams at the mouth. White froth on my black tarp.

When his body convulses, it's when a new idea comes to mind. An irresistible one.

Into his ass goes the handle of the whisk. I shove it inside of him, as deep it'd go. Once I'm sure it's settled, I release my hold on it.

"This is so freaking cute," I say as I watch the whisk shaking from Ari's seizure, reminding me of how it looks when I whisk my frosting. "Too bad you can't live. You could've been such a wonderful, little helper."

Bzz. Bzz.

Bzz. Bzz.

"Oh. My. God, why won't you stop?"

The jolts and spasms of Ari's body subside until there's none. I don't touch him, don't wake him, just toss my mitts to the side and fish out my phone. I have to see who's the psycho that won't quit buzzing.

I tear out one glove, hold it under my armpit and unlock the phone. While the CCTV takes its sweet time to load, I kick Ari's face so his cheek rests on the floor. This is justice. I mean sure, he could've lasted a bit longer. I still got him.

"Bye, sucker." I'm up on my feet, throwing both gloves on the table and smoothing out my crimson red sweater.

A heartbeat later, the stream from the sidewalk outside the shop comes to life.

The small, amused grin on my face transforms into a giant smile. It splits my face in half. It hurts. Such a delicious pain, though. The type only Tyler can offer .

"My sexy stalker." My bandaged finger strokes the screen.

Tyler paces across the sidewalk, back and forth, back and forth. So hot in his dark gray hoodie, shoulder bag and jeans. Stalking me in my shop.

I stalk him right back. Watching him.

He stops at the door to Sweet DeNights, half his body hidden by the huge pumpkin sticker I put up there. My phone vibrates when he buzzes the intercom again.

The buzzing stops because now Tyler has his hands on his waist. He looks up and into the camera for me to see his face better.

As if I wouldn't recognize him.

My man. My distraction.

There's a dead body three feet away from me. A whisk stuck out of said corpse's asshole. Foam trickling on my tarp.

And I'm too starry-eyed to care about cleaning this mess up. About skinning the body while it's still warm, because if I wait and it gets cold, it'll take that much longer.

The man on the screen reminds me what truly matters. The belt at my pussy does the same.

I didn't think I could love this man any harder than I already had. But he's here and he's feral and I do. Fuck, I do. So much so that I can't stop myself from kissing the screen.

Bzz. Bzz.

The insistent man I want with every fiber of my being rings the intercom for the millionth time in less than ten minutes.

It's a good thing he does. I needed that wake-up call. Distracted murderers make mistakes. They get fucked .

Wait, is that why he's here? To put an end to my murdering days?

He's made it clear by now that he has no intention of turning me in. He hunts other killers on his blog. Some of their faces I see on the news. Some are never to be heard from again. He might be killing them. That's my conclusion after yesterday. His senses have sharpened over the years. He was too comfortable when he used the knife on me.

But the police aren't here. Tyler could've killed me numerous times and he hasn't.

So…if he's not here to catch me, then there's one remaining option. He wants to stop me. He wants me to become…what? A better person? Wife material?

Someone whose life wasn't at risk every October?

Hell, no. No, no. no.

This world I've created for myself is mine. It's been my therapy for four years while Ty has been dealing with his own issues.

I won't allow him to barge in here. Can't let him stomp into my back-back room where his suspicions will be confirmed. Where he'll tell me to pull the plug.

Even though him being with me is supposed to fix my problem , I still want to keep my hobby. It won't put me at risk. It won't.

He doesn't get to end this.

A flare of rage shoots up my spine at the same time Tyler starts talking. The sound on the app is off.

I turn it on. "—to come out here, little savage. "

Whatever he said before doesn't matter. I'll come out there, all right.

I'm already stalking out of the back-back room. My baking room disappears behind me as well, and I push through the swinging door.

Dark eyes gleam in the darkness. His attention is a force that almost knocks me over. The chastity belt burns my skin, my wetness dampening the metal.

For the love of everything fuck-holy, why does being angry get me so turned on?

"Dahlia." Tyler's voice carries behind the glass. "Come out."

At the force of his command, I stumble, reaching back to balance myself. My hand hits the display window, undoubtedly leaving smudges. Fuck.

When I pull myself back together and straighten my spine, I rearrange my thoughts as well.

Distracted murderers make mistakes. They get fucked , I repeat to myself.

My heart flutters regardless. Whispers that Tyler's worth it. He's my weak spot. He might actually convince me to stop this.

He might make me resent him, and no. No.

Never.

He has to be okay with what I'm doing. Truly okay with it.

His scowl doesn't exactly scream being okay with it.

So I'll let him in.

Another day .

"Little savage." He tilts his head. "I won't ask you again."

I offer him a smile that would frighten most people. Instead of fearing me, his lips quirk in the tiniest smile. Then it's gone.

"Asshole."

He doesn't answer. Just lifts his hand. Shakes a small, silver key in my face.

The chastity belt doesn't scald me anymore. It weighs heavily on me. As if the dangling key is a magnet that Tyler uses to draw me to him.

I have to…

I must…

I'm running back behind the counter at record speed. My key set is in my grip in one instant. The next, I unlock the front door to the shop.

He doesn't barge in. I stand tall, blocking the entrance just in case he does.

"Give me a couple of hours."

The audacity of this man. Smirking at my indignance. By the way my voice stutters.

He's a brave one, too, taking a step forward and getting in my face. This is more than bravery, I see that now. He likes the control he has over me. Gets off on it.

"Are you going to talk?" I say when I can't take another second of his silence. "Or what?"

"I am." Tyler lowers his face until we're eye to eye. He presses his lips into a thin line as if his next words will pain him. "I've missed you. Had to see you before you got home. Make sure you won't walk there by yourself this late, and—"

"And to admit that us being together won't end with me dying in a freak accident?"

"I still believe that very fucking much." He reaches for my pussy, cupping me over my jeans. "I needed to get you out of these. Shove my cock into that hole that must've been soaked for me all fucking day."

"Liar."

His palm squeezes me, pinning the belt to my skin. Hurting me while showing me he's in charge.

He's always been in charge.

He always will be.

You'll play with him later .

Right.

The adrenaline from my last kill spurs me on. My fingers curl around Tyler's wrist, and I swear I have a good chance of breaking his bones.

That'd be so hot.

"Fine." No one crosses the street or slumps against a closed storefront. I whisper nonetheless, "I'll close for today, then we'll meet at my apartment. Two hours."

"Why?" His eyes darken, his nostrils flare. "Are you keeping secrets from me?"

Goading me. This man is so insane. So sweet. He wants me to tell him everything. That way, it won't look like he's been stalking me.

That way he can tell me to stop without blowing his cover.

"I'm running a business here." My grip around him becomes punishing. A threat. "You know how to get into my apartment. Go over there. Make yourself at home. I'll meet you there soon."

"Nice try, little savage." The edge in his voice softens. His lips dip to my throat, trailing the curve of my neck. I gasp when his teeth nibble at my jaw. "I'm staying. The moment you let me back into your life, you became mine. I warned you I'll be obsessive. Overprotective. That I'll drive you insane. And you consented. You don't get to hide anything from me."

Every inch of my body tingles for him. Goosebumps prickle wherever his teeth scrape my skin. I gravitate toward him, leaning into him, gripping his hoodie.

Until my sane, logical part snaps me back to the present.

I'm not about to ruin everything for this immediate gratification. We'll have plenty of time to fuck next to dead bodies. When I tell him exactly what it is I'm doing it. How violent I become.

When he'll say he understands this doesn't risk my life.

And we can't have this conversation here.

If I stand any chance against him, I have to go for his weak spots.

His love for me.

The violence in him has already faded by a fraction. When he presses me to the window of Sweet DeNights, the vibe he gives me is that of…Tyler's version of gentle. Unhinged and sweet all at once.

He cups my cheeks until it hurts. His glare feral.

But his hips, how he grinds slowly against my body, that's what gives him away. He wants to protect me, even from himself .

What he doesn't realize is that him backing off is the only way to do it.

"Fine, fine." Lying to him tastes rancid on my tongue. He'll have the truth soon enough. Once he's ready. "You can come in."

His eyes narrow. Everything about him screams suspicion. As it should be. "Can I?"

"Nope."

I barely finish the word before my fist connects with his jaw. The force of the blow pushes him off me, and I back up to the door to my shop without looking away from my hunter.

The fury in his eyes could burn down kingdoms. "Dahlia."

He's on me again. I have more room to rear my elbow back, and this blow lands harder. The pain from hitting Tyler reaches all the way to my shoulder.

I'll take it. To save us, I'll take everything.

He has his hand on his jaw, the shock forcing him to stay where he is.

Three quick steps and I'm inside the shop, locking myself in.

"Get back out here, Dahlia." His hand slams on the glass door. "Right the fuck now."

He's so beautiful when he's mad. I'm almost tempted to do as he says.

Not.

"Two hours." I flatten my palm where his is. He growls. I do too. Two can play this game. "Two hours and I'm yours."

It'll be a tight fit, but two hours should do. I'll work fast .

"I'll punish you for this," he calls after me when I head deeper into the shop. "You can count on that."

Somehow, I feel that this was another reason for him being here. Like he came here with the intention to punish me in the first place. Hurt me because he loves me so much that he doesn't know what to do with himself.

The old Tyler would've coddled and kissed me. The old Tyler was all smiles and requests instead of scowls and demands.

This version of him—that version that witnessed his grandma's intestines slipping through my fingers—has a different kind of love to give me.

And that's okay , I think as I lock the door to my back room behind me. That's more than okay.

I love both versions of him the same. I love the light and darkness and everything in between.

Forever and ever.

He'll see reason. In due time, everything will be okay.