Chapter 27: Ruger

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ruger

T he boy sits back in the chair, fear taking its time to give way to the drugs we just shoved down his throat. I wipe the bottle clean. Zayna is smart enough not to touch anything, but I should have some concerns about that mess of curly hair she has. I’m being too careful. Nobody will suspect anything but a suicide. It’s not that uncommon with student athletes. They pop open some of their medication and take the pressure off. Young Brooks just took a little too many pills. He was tired. He didn’t think it would kill him.

Zayna stays close to me. She gives me a look as if to ask, “How long is it going to take?”

Long enough that it’s going to make her squirm. I stretch my arm out to Zayna to draw her closer to me, keeping my pistol drawn and pointed at Brooks Astor in his desk chair — the last place he’s ever going to sit. Zayna edges closer to me slowly, too scared to stop looking at Brooks. She nestles close to me. I have to fight the urge to kiss her.

Don’t want to take my eyes off the dying man. Zayna shivers as she draws close to me. I’ve become well acquainted with her curves. The way her tits move with each breath. It’s impossible not to be hard around her, even if the only sight I’m taking in is the man dying in front of me.

Unlike with the other deaths, after this one, I’ll have a woman to crawl into bed with and forget the brutality of taking another soul from this world. Yet another. Brooks’ heavy breathing gives way and some last words take shape in his mouth before it gets too heavy.

“You’re fucked up,” he says. “You’re going to go to prison.”

“Don’t care,” I tell him. “Now pipe down.”

Last words nobody gives a fuck about. And I don’t want to hear any more.

“What’s the point? I’m already dead,” he says. “I could just keep talking…”

His eyes meet mine and the words fade away. Even at the doorway, men can’t fight that survival instinct. It’s buried too deep inside us. Brooks fights for life. Fights to stay awake. But eventually, this is a fight we all lose. He slumps over more and his breathing is so slow, neither me nor Zayna can hear it.

“Is he dead?” she whispers.

“Not yet. Just asleep.”

“Should we stay?”

“We don’t have to. They won’t find him until practice tomorrow. 7:30 a.m.”

She shivers, her body moving even closer to mine than before. Her next inhalation is slow. She’s never seen anything like this before and I can tell that she is deeply fascinated by Brooks’ death now that her fear has settled.

“I’ll hop out the window first,” I whisper, planting my first gentle kiss on Zayna’s cheek. “Then I’ll catch you.”

“He looks pale,” she says, her voice tinged with sadness and again, curiosity. But no regret.

“Blood leaving his extremities. Trying to keep him alive.”

It’s some shit I heard in a movie. But I want her to feel safe with me. I need her to think that I know everything under the sun and that she doesn’t have to keep a single thought in her head when she’s near me.

“They’ll think it’s a suicide,” she whispers. The best plans are always simple.

“Yup,” I whisper, letting my hand wander to Zayna’s soft ass as my appetite for her grows stronger. “Let’s go…”

I kiss her on the cheek again and she follows me to the window of his room. Zayna climbs out without casting a final look behind her. No regret. No remorse. This is exactly what I wanted.

Tonight, we’re sleeping somewhere else. Better keep moving while I work. The next man on the list goes to college on the other side of Boston. Technically, in the beautiful section of the city called Somerville. Ethan Shaw owns a small two bedroom condominium in Somerville that he won in a poker game when he was the last man standing with some Irish mobster named Darragh Murray.

Lucky for me, Ethan owes me a favor, so that’s where we get to bed down tonight. Unfortunately, I plan on breaking Ethan’s one rule. Don’t fuck in my bed.

I promised him that I wouldn’t… but sometimes in tough and sticky situations, you have to lie to get what you want. I plan on fucking Zayna every single way I can in that bed… Ethan has a washing machine.

When I park, Zayna seems surprised.

“This isn’t your house,” she says.

I laugh. “Why? Too fancy?”

“It doesn’t seem like your style.”

“Correct,” I tell her, taking the helmet from Zayna and pointing her towards the front door. “It belongs to a club member.”

“It’s close to Laguna Grove.”

“Yup.”

Zayna slips her hand in mine. My dick almost jumps out of my pants. She touched me first. Holy shit, she touched me first. She rarely touches me first.

We have takeout for dinner. Zayna craves Thai food — I asked her to pick what we were eating, thinking our options were pizza or burgers — and I have to find something on that bizarre Asian menu that sounds good. I’m too scared to pronounce anything, but I point to what I want and Zayna uses my phone to place an order for delivery. I didn’t know what the fuck Pad Thai was, but clearly, I’ve been missing out. This shit is delicious. And salty. I finish my portion and pick at Zayna’s a little too. She doesn’t eat as much as I do.

When she’s all done, I ask her if she’s okay.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she says, flashing me a quick, scared smile.

“I need to clean up. Shower?”

My heart races. I don’t know if she’ll join me. This is the first time I’ve given her a choice, but she follows me to the condominium bathroom. It’s cold, with white and gray marble everywhere. I prefer a house I built with my own hands. I prefer the quiet to the city. Zayna follows me into the small space and her chest releases some tension once we’re alone. She touches my shoulder, which instantly holds me in rapt attention.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We just…”

“Killed someone,” I finish her sentence to spare her from having to say the words out loud. Zayna nods. Slowly.

“I’ll do it for you again. You don’t have to come.”

“No,” she says, her eyes flaring with anger. “I want to see.”

Fuck. The murderous expression on Zayna’s face gets me as stiff as a muzzle-loader.

“Okay, baby,” I tell her, struggling to suppress how fucking happy it makes me that she hasn’t called me something vile and made me feel like shit for what I did. Her hand touches my face. Approval. My dick has complete control over me at this point. It’s hard not to shove her against the clear shower door and fuck her with her clothes still on.

“You are… Thanks.”

“No,” I whisper. “Don’t thank me. Take your clothes off.”

Zayna shakes her head. “There is no way you’re thinking of sex right now.”

I take her hand off my cheek and press it against the outside of my pants. She seems surprised at how hard I am, but her fingers curl around my dick. Yes.

“Ruger…”

“I want you,” I whisper. “Please…”

Begging. This woman has me begging. Zayna tiptoes and kisses me with her hand still wrapped around my dick. I struggle not to finish before we start. Her lips are so soft. They taste like all those strange spices. I fight her clothes off myself, despite my commands. Zayna allows me to strip her down and we work together to take my clothes off. I press her against the shower door and touch every inch of her as we kiss.

I’m not in a rush now that I have her naked. I could enjoy this woman’s body forever — especially underneath Ethan Shaw’s bright white lights. My house has a cozy, cabin feel. This place is a fancy as fuck pre-war condominium where everything is exposed and white.

Zayna’s dark skin has the most color of anything in this room. All the white in the bathroom is making me realize that her nipples are so much darker than I originally thought. I’ve never seen her body underneath this much light and my curiosity blends with my arousal, forcing me to give her rougher kisses as I tease her flesh to see how she responds.

She’s so damn sensitive and I love it. I want to watch her cum on my dick as hot water pours down her back. I want to get her nice and wet before we fuck once in the shower and again in Ethan Shaw’s bed. Maybe a third time in his bed…

“I want you,” I whisper to Zayna, when I finally find the strength to pull away from kissing her. She doesn’t peel her body away from mine when I separate from the kiss. I can still feel the warmth of her bare cunt pressed against my thigh. Her nipples are rock fucking hard from the kisses and the cold.

“I know,” she says. “I don’t think any man has ever wanted me like this.”

My heart thuds nervously. She might be right, but when this is all done, I’m going to ask her for something that Zayna might not want… She won’t like me so much then. But now, I need her, and I don’t want a damn thing to spoil that.