29. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Tyler

D ahlia's at work. She left five hours ago to open her shop, baking batches upon batches of cupcakes. Give her strays their breakfast.

I hated seeing her go. I hate every moment she's not here.

I've grown greedy. More possessive than I imagined possible.

I don't want to catch other killers anymore.

When Dahlia's out of my sight, my brain goes darker than dark. It goes pitch-fucking-black.

It's been like that for the last four days.

The dark gray clouds of this Saturday morning aren't as comforting as they used to be. The bitter coffee tastes way too sweet. I spit it out. Disgusting.

An urge inside me demands I barge into her shop. Drag her to any of her back rooms and strip her bare. Fuck her there for motherfucking weeks .

I want to stitch my fingers to her neck so I can choke her whenever fucking possible.

Or put a collar around her neck, be the one to hold on to her leash. Own every piece of her.

I told her as much a minute before she went out the door today.

"Stay, or I'll drop by and do either of those things to you," I warned.

"I wish." She leaned in to kiss my naked chest, leaving red marks the shape of her lips on my skin. "One day, we would. Today is not that day."

Her nervous energy was everywhere. She had a lot of things to do.

She had to leave, and she had to leave this second.

Did it bother me that she had other obligations?

A little.

"A compromise." My arm around her waist hauled her back into the apartment. I shut the door as soon as Dahlia was back inside.

"You'll have to wait until tonight. Then we'll fuck with the dead body in the back-back room." Her fists were at my chest. She looked so cute in the long, black wool coat I bought her. It almost reached her ankles. Fucking adorable. "That's the only compromise I'm willing to make."

"Hardly satisfying."

Her Chucks dragged on my floor as I continued hauling her deeper into our apartment. Into our bedroom. She looked beautiful, her hair in a neat bun. Mine was still messy from sleep and my stubble thick after a few days of not grooming it.

"No time for fucking," she shrieked .

"This isn't about fucking."

My promise didn't comfort Dahlia. She punched my chin just as I was about to throw her on the bed. I threw her there anyway.

"Feisty little thing." Dahlia was already on her feet when I shook my head. "Stay."

"No." She did, though.

"I said we'll have a compromise." I pulled open one of the drawers in my closet. Took out the items I needed. "This." Spinning back, I made sure she saw the chastity belt and its key. "This is a compromise. For when I can't be with you. When I can't own you the way I like."

Dahlia's cheeks flushed. A glimmer of need lit up her blue eyes.

"Panties off."

That wasn't a request. It was a demand Dahlia followed. It took a couple of minutes to remove her sneakers, thick tights, and panties.

"Good girl," I said when she was bare to me.

She hummed as I knelt before her.

"Open wide." I dangled the key in front of her mouth, and she parted her lips for me.

Almost let me put it in her mouth.

"You said you loved it when I swallowed." Dahlia's tongue darted out to lick the teeth of the key. "Yes, little savage. Fuck, yes. Suck me dry. Every fucking drop."

Her taunting didn't anger me. It turned me on.

Key in her mouth. I pushed her chin up to clamp her lips together.

"Such a good fucking girl." My hands spread her thighs. "Don't swallow. "

My mouth was on her pussy, and I sucked on her clit.

Suddenly, she did have time to stay. Dahlia's fingers dove into my hair, and desperate moans burst from her perfect, pursed red lips.

But I'd said we'd compromise. I said this wasn't about sex.

And I was a man of my word.

She growled without dropping the key the moment I pulled back.

"Ass up." I licked her sweet taste off my lips. "Now."

Her fist decked me in the cheek for leaving her like this. The blow wasn't as harsh as the one she gave to my jaw earlier. Hardly ever hurt.

I was hard as a fucking rock. That was what I felt when she hit me.

Then she let me restrain her pretty pussy with our chastity belt.

That was this morning. I haven't heard from or seen her since.

While I'm fully capable of going over there to watch and stalk her, I don't. I know I have other things to do. Problems to take care of.

The FyndUsHere killer is still out there. Still a threat to Dahlia and me. We've been searching for him for the past few days. Not enough, though. Between killing people and fucking and needing to sleep, we didn't have much time to really delve into this.

Which is why I stay right here, perched on my couch and doing what I do best. Searching for clues.

Earlier, I started by scouring the internet for his FyndUsHere screen name, ImEverywhere. It was the most obvious search. It brought up nothing .

After that, I tried different variations of his username. Switched up the letters or added dashes and dots between ImEverwhere. Looked for a similar handle with the letters NY added to them.

Nothing. For the past five hours, nothing.

Five. Yes. The exact amount of hours Dahlia hasn't been here and—

Got you.

ImEveryNYWhere on Instagram. That has to be him. A man. A man who's smart but not smart enough. Otherwise, why the fuck would he leave his location settings turned on for his photos?

He's an arrogant prick, Johnathan Sanders. That's why.

A defense lawyer, it says in his bio. There are photos of him from the last New Year's party at their offices. High ceilings, marble floors, expansive space in the background. He and two other men wear expensive dark suits, not a hair out of place.

He's rich. Good-looking with his sandy blond hair, dark brown eyes. He looks tall.

And smug.

No wife or husband appears in any of his photos. With a fucked-up hobby like his, it's no surprise that he's not married. It takes a special person to accept a mind like ours. That is, if he's even interested in sharing his life with anyone.

Don't know. Don't care.

I snatch my phone from the cushion and text Dahlia.

Me: We have him.

My woman's response arrives less than a minute later .

Dahlia: Can't wait to go hunting together, Cyfrin.

Me: Only if you've been good. Did you pick the lock on the chastity belt?

Her next response takes a little longer to arrive.

Although I hate waiting, Dahlia makes it worth my while. She sends me a picture of her holding her dress up. With her tights pushed down her legs, I see her sweet cunt locked tight in the chastity belt.

Me: Such a good girl. Yes, we can go hunting together.

Her: You can call me Watcher1988, CT.

My mouth gapes. Closes. Curves up in a smirk.

It doesn't make sense that she'd be the reader who demands I catch her the most. And yet when it comes to Dahlia, it makes all the sense in the world.