Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

TYSHAWN

We're careful when we load up the trunk of everything we baked today. Leo was quite the sous chef, not minding taking orders from me, giving me these faint smiles when I stopped him from making a mistake. And there were a lot of mistakes. But I didn't mind. It felt nice to have someone help me. Sam would occasionally if I needed extra hands, but that was very rare.

It was actually a lot of fun to having Leo in the kitchen with me. Even though I'm particular about how I do things and it would drive most people crazy, Leo took all of my instructions in stride, doing what I ask without complaint.

He also asked questions and didn't mind if I gave him long-winded answers. Leo is unlike any man I've ever been with before. If he didn't kill people for a living, he'd be the perfect guy.

What am I saying? He already is the perfect guy. Perfect for me. I'm not sure what that says about me, overlooking murder and all, but I'm only human.

The drive back to the city is spent with me singing loudly to the radio and Leo shooting me indulgent smiles. I love that he doesn't try to change my weird. He leans into it, giving me the space to be me.

Ray's Beanery is busy when we pull up, people coming in and out quickly. When we step inside, I have to dodge someone rushing to the counter to get their lunchtime fix. They almost bump into me, narrowly avoiding making me drop my cupcake boxes. Leo growls, but I lay my hand on his arm, hoping to convey he needs to calm down. He glances at me and gives me an imperceptible nod.

We weave around those in the way, Leo nodding at a harried-looking Hispanic man behind the counter who's trying to take and relay orders to a petite Black woman working with him.

Leo pushes through the door behind the counter and leads me back to the same office he asked me out in. My face heats as I think about how he looked at me while he was bandaging my hand. He still looks at me that way, like he wants to get me dirty and clean me up when he's finished with me.

When we step inside, the man I talked to on the phone about my serial killer boyfriend looks up from a stack of papers. June smiles at Leo but absolutely beams at me. "Oh my God! It's nice to meet you in person." He ducks under Leo's outstretched arm and gives me an awkward hug, careful not to jostle the load I'm carrying. "How are you?"

"Good. Really good." I hold up the boxes in my hands and show them to him like a weirdo. "Got cupcakes. Leo and I made them this morning. He's an amazing sous chef. Didn't complain once. That's important when you're baking, if someone is helping. They have to take your directions so whatever they're working with doesn't get fucked up. He almost put too much salt in the cookies earlier. Would have been a disaster for everyone who tasted one." My eyes widen, and I clamp my mouth shut. It's one thing to babble all over Leo, but June doesn't know me. He doesn't know my weird. He probably thinks I'm a lunatic that has to blab everything he's thinking.

Instead of giving me a dry, bored look, he's smiling at me. "Oh, you're perfect. I see what you mean, Leo." June relieves me of my load and tucks them under his arms. "Are there more boxes? I know we discussed fifty of the cookies, cupcakes, and Danishes."

I nod. "Yes. There are more in the trunk. Only cupcakes. The Danishes and cookies are all packed in their own boxes." I point to the boxes Leo has in his hands. "The cupcakes had to be packed separately so I wouldn't ruin the icing. It's homemade."

June smiles. "Leo told me. Can I eat one before I set them out? I love red velvet cupcakes."

"Please," I say, gesturing to the ones he's holding in his hands.

He helps Leo and I bring in the rest of the cupcakes and set them in the office. June informs me he's going to display them tomorrow when he opens since the morning rush has already happened. "These will be great for a sugar rush in the morning to go along with the coffee," he mentions absently as he pulls the paper from the cupcake he snagged and bites into it. His groan makes me smile so hard my cheeks hurt. "Fucking hell, Tyshawn. These are amazing. You said they're homemade?"

"Yes. They're actually not that hard to make when you get used to the recipe. I can teach you if you want." I fight hard to cut off any rambling before it begins so I don't annoy him. I like June and want us to be friends. He won't want to be friends with me if I word vomit all over him.

"I'd love that. How about tomorrow, if you're free?"

Leo interjects. "Can't. We'll be out of town." He shuts the door, then leans against it. "Ty wants to …" He makes a gesture around his neck, as if he's cutting his own throat. "We found him in Virginia. He wants to get started as soon as possible, which is tonight."

June's eyes grow wide. "Your first?" he asks me, and I nod. "Bad guy?"

Wrapping my arms around myself, I nod again. "He raped my best friend, and she killed herself."

His eyes soften, and he sets his cupcake down, walking over to give me a long hug. He pulls back and meets my eyes. "I'm glad you're taking out the trash then. Well, when you return, I'd love to learn to make these cupcakes. Blu would love them."

Leo and June talk more about how long he'll be gone and about their business, then we take our leave. We get in Leo's car, and he pulls onto the interstate, driving us north into Virginia. Nerves thrum through me, but I swallow them down. This needs to be done. Michael doesn't deserve many more sunrises.

I'll make sure he doesn't get them.

Two hours later, we're pulling into the parking lot of the hotel we reserved, and Leo checks us in. He told me to stay back and wait for him, just in case something happens and someone gets a good look at me. Having two different colored eyes is a feature that stands out in people's minds, making it easy for witnesses to recall. I'm glad he thought of that because I would have waltzed up to the counter and had to thank someone who complimented my irises.

Instead of waiting until the morning, we drop our bags off in our room and drive the thirty minutes to Michael's job. Over the next few days, Leo and I sit and watch his routine, to see if he does the same things every day or if he's spontaneous.

"Spontaneity is good," Leo told me the second day we were sitting in the car, watching Michael's home. "If he had a routine and didn't show up for something, he'll be found quicker. Doing things differently all the time makes it harder to keep track of him."

Michael is single, so we don't have to worry about a partner wanting him to come to their place or anything. He doesn't have pets, so no fear of him not feeding them and a nosey neighbor coming to check shit out. As far as we can tell, he's a loner, has very few friends, and from what I remember, his family cut him off after he was found guilty, even though he got a short sentence. Leo said he's the best kind of kill because of his self-imposed isolation.

After Leo and I have his routine down—as sparse as it is—we find an abandoned building to take him to. That's the hardest part. Since we're not familiar with the area, it's difficult to know what buildings the unhoused may squat in to have a roof over their heads and stay out of the elements. It takes us three nights to find the perfect location—an apartment building that's condemned, scheduled for demolition the next day. It's risky, but we know there won't be anyone there, for fear they'll get caught in the demo.

"Okay," Leo mutters after he gets what he calls his kill kit together. His cleaning kit is already loaded in the back of the car. "Are you ready?"

I look at myself in the mirror again, taking in the clothes Leo suggested I wear—a black cap that's pulled over my hair, a black long-sleeved shirt that hugs my chest and covers all exposed skin to just below my wrists, a pair of black cargo pants that are snug but comfortable, and a heavy-duty pair of boots. I look like a badass.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see Leo is dressed similarly, hot as fuck in black from head to toe. It makes his blue-green eyes shine bright. I'm sure they're also bright because he gets to kill tonight. Leo told me he enjoys the kill, and whenever he described one to me, his eyes would take on this luminous quality.

Nodding, I pull the cap lower on my head. "I'm ready. Tell me the plan again."

"I already disabled the cameras in the hallway, so we can leave without anyone seeing us. You'll drive to Michael's house, making sure to stay just at or a little over the speed limit. I'll go in, drug him, and bring him outside. His neighbors are in bed by ten and have no outside cameras, so we're good there. When I get him outside and in the trunk, you'll drive to the apartment building and set everything up in the room we have ready for him. I'll come in with him, and we can get started." Leo steps up to me, rubbing my cheek gently. "You can handle this, kotenok. I know you can."

"I can handle it, Leo. I just don't want to disappoint you." Leo is used to killing people, working at his own pace. Then here I come, asking him to take someone out for me, then changing my mind to say I'll do it, probably wrecking his entire process. I should have just let him handle things himself, doing his process how he does and asking him to tell me about it when he was finished. What was I thinking, wanting to see or, in my case, commit a murder?

"Come back to me, kotenok," Leo whispers just before he kisses me softly. I kiss him back desperately, hoping to borrow some of his calm. "You won't disappoint me. Follow my instructions, and it'll be fine." He smiles big, his dimples popping, making me swoon. "This is my kitchen."

An unexpected laugh leaves my throat. God, he's fucking perfect. It's not even startling when I realize I'm falling for him, hard and fast. But that's a conversation for another day. "Okay, it's your kitchen. I can do it."

"I know you can, kotenok. Come on. I'm going to pop your murder cherry."

Chuckling at his ridiculousness, I grab his free hand, and we head to Michael's house. My hands are clamped around the staring wheel at the perfect ten and two, but Leo doesn't judge me. He keeps up a running commentary about what we're going to do when we get back home, his ideas for the coffee shop, and how he plans to get another room built on the farmhouse. I listen while letting my mind wander, not babbling for maybe the first time since we met.

This is big. In another hour, I'll be a murderer. Am I okay with that? Will I be the same person once it's done? Well, of course I won't be the same, but can I handle the man I'll be?

For Juliette, I sure fucking can. I would have done anything for her, including taking her place so she wouldn't have been assaulted. If I were braver back then, I would have killed Michael as soon as he exited prison, but I wasn't. I am now, with the help of Leo.

He makes me feel like I can take over the world. No fear can touch me when Leo is nearby and giving me so much encouragement. My nerves are still there, but they're more about the anticipation of it all. The lead-up is a killer, but I'm not afraid of the act itself. Not anymore. Leo makes me strong.

When we pull up to Michael's house, I turn off the headlights and look over at Leo.

"As soon as you see me exit the house, pop the trunk. I want to have him dumped in the back no more than fifteen seconds after. Remember, drive away at a sedate pace so no one will recall screeching tires."

"Okay. Be careful." I pull him in for a quick kiss that Leo deepens. I sigh happily into his mouth as he takes control, gliding his tongue over mine.

"I will," he says against my lips. With one more peck, he gets out of the car and blends in with the night.

I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for Leo to come back out. My nerves rise to the surface again as I look around, making sure no one is meandering about. We've been to his neighborhood before, so we know what times it's usually a ghost town. Now is one of those times. I'm only hoping someone doesn't have a reason to leave their homes right now, like needing to take their dog out for a late night walk.

Two minutes after he goes in, I spot a shift in Michael's front yard, and my heart hammers in my throat as I stare at a misshapen figure coming toward me. Then I realize it's Leo with Michael over his shoulder, and I breath out a sigh of relief, hustling to pop the trunk. It opens quickly, then I hear a thump as Leo dumps Michael heavily into the back.

Leo opens the passenger door, sliding into the seat. He gives me his sweet but frightening grin that I find irresistible. "Easy," he quips.

I roll my eyes playfully, then put the car in drive. Praying I can pull this little task off, I force my foot to land on the gas pedal gently. I exhale softly when my body does what I tell it.

The drive to the abandoned building passes in a flash, probably because I'm moving on autopilot. This is it. There's no turning back from what I'm about to do. Am I afraid? About being caught, yes. Do I want to call the whole thing off and let Michael live as a free man without being truly held accountable for the rape and suicide of my best friend? Absofuckinglutely not.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when the GPS announces, ‘ You have arrived at your destination,' s hattering the silence in the car. Against my better judgement, I jump.

Leo covers my hand with his. "You nervous?"

"Yes," I answer him honestly.

"I'll take care of you, kotenok. Don't worry."

"Okay," I whisper.

Like we agreed on last night, I pull around the back of the apartment building, extinguishing the lights when we get to the first floor emergency exit that Leo taped open.

"Grab my kits. I'll get Michael."

I do what he says, turning on my flashlight so we can see while Leo hoists Michael over his shoulder and brings him in.

We step into the first apartment on the left, the only one that still has furniture inside. The last occupants left a kitchen table behind. It's rickety and dented from heavy use, but it's sturdy. Leo laid on it to ensure it would hold Michael's weight. And Leo has about thirty pounds on Michael, so we'll be set.

Once I drop the bags on the floor by my feet, I look around at our kill room as it is. It's littered with trash prior tenants didn't clean up. There is a fine layer of dust left behind, making my nose tingle from the urge to sneeze. A faint mildew smell hangs in the air, but that will change as soon as Leo gets started on whatever he plans to do to Michael. He didn't tell me what exactly that was, just that I'd be pleased with how much it'll hurt.

Leo drops Michael on the table, his head banging on the surface roughly. I smile, happy that he'll wake up to a throbbing skull.

After Leo arranges Michael on the table, I grab the kill kit and open it, pull out one of the rolls of duct tape and hand it to Leo. I take the other and help him tape Michael down. Leo is quick and efficient, and I try to mirror his motions. Michael's feet just hang off the table, and Leo takes off his socks—he snatched him from the house with his pajamas on, so we didn't have to worry about shoes. I give Leo a questioning look, and he just winks at me. Shrugging, I wrap the tape around Michael's forehead so he can't lift his head when he wakes up.

Leo stands beside me, checking that Michael is secure. I paste myself to his side, loving how warm and solid he feels. "What now?" I ask, staring at the man I've wanted dead for almost six years. He fucking disgusts me. Having him tied down and at my mercy is exactly where he deserves to be.

"I'll get some smelling salts to rouse him. Then we can have some fun."

I return the smile Leo is flashing at me and let him go so he can wake Michael up.

The smelling salts work immediately. As soon as Leo puts the capsule to his nose, Michael snorts and tries to shake his head to get away from the strong aroma. When he can only move his head an inch in either direction, Michael tries to look around.

His frightened eyes lock on Leo's, and he opens his mouth to let out a shrill scream. My hands fly to my ears, trying to drown it out. Of all the things to come out of his mouth, I didn't expect a shriek.

Quick as a flash, Leo stops the scream a few seconds later with his hand tight on Michael's throat. Choking noises replaces the high-pitched sound and I'm thankful. My ears ring even after he stops.

Leo leans close to his face and in a snarling voice says, "If you don't shut the fuck up, I'll slit your fucking throat." Michael glances at him with wide eyes and nods frantically. Leo lets him go, then looks over at me. "Want to talk to him first, or can I have my fun?"

Michael visibly shakes as he tries to peer over at me. Since he can't move his head, he can't see me from where I'm standing. That doesn't stop him from asking questions. "Hey! What's this about? Talk to me about what?" When neither of us answers, Michael shrieks, "Please! Tell me what this is about. What have I done to you?"

Anger surging inside of me, I stride over to Michael so he can see me. His face doesn't show recognition, but I'm sure my next sentence will bring it all back to him. "You remember Juliette Barner? Remember what you did to her?"

Michael goes chalk white as he tries to shake his head. Yeah, he remembers. Juliette and I sat beside each other at his trial, hoping and praying for a good outcome. Our prayers weren't answered.

I slap a hand on Michael's forehead much harder than necessary and hold him still so he can meet my eyes. "Fucking look at me! Look at me and tell me why! Why did you do it?"

"Do what? I didn't do?—"

"You're a fucking liar!" I roar and strike him. I punch him in the face repeatedly, wanting to vent my frustrations. Anger floods my body, the rage threatening to tear me apart. My hand repeatedly bashes into the soft flesh of his face, my fist warming with blood.

When my left arm gets tired, I switch to the right, pummeling Michael into the table.

Leo lets me go on until Michael's face is bloody and swelling. He finally stops me when it looks as if Michael will pass out. I look up at Leo, chest heaving with blood running down my closed fist.

Smirking at me, Leo pulls me close to him—not worried about the blood that's splashed on me—and kisses me deeply. "Fuck, I can watch you work all day. You're fucking hot."

Despite my irritation at the lie this fucking rapist told, I blossom under Leo's lips and his words. I rub up against his hard dick, eager to get this kill over with so I can get Leo alone.

Michael groans pitifully behind us, but I pay him no mind. Leo's kiss conveys that he's here for me and he'll handle everything from here.

I can't wait to watch. But first, I have questions.

Breaking the kiss, I pull back from Leo, grabbing a cloth from his cleaning kit and change my gloves. Once done, I step back to the table and grab Michael's face. He looks at me with swollen eyes, groaning as I grip his chin roughly. "Do you remember Juliette?"

"Yes," he croaks, shaking his head to try to loosen my grip. I grab on tighter. "Fuck! Yes! I remember her. But I did my time. I paid my debt to society."

"The fuck you did!" I shout, slapping him quickly across the face. "You did less than three months, and she fucking killed herself. You took away any kind of hope for her future. Why did you do it?"

"Tell the truth," Leo mutters from behind me. "Tell the truth and we'll let you go."

Michael's swollen eyes light up, and he nods as much as he can with my hand gripping his chin and his head tapped down. "Okay. I was her tutor. She flirted with me all the time, telling me if I helped her, she'd make it worth my while. When it came time to collect, she said no. But she fucking promised. She told me that?—"

My anger gets the best of me again, and I punch Michel in the nose. "She meant she'd pay you extra money, you dipshit. I saw the text messages." Juliette messaged Michael about coming to help her for an extra hour her parents weren't paying him for. She said she'd make it worth his while, and when Michael asked how, she said she'd pay him a hundred dollars for the hour so she could pass her algebra two final exam. "She didn't want to have sex with you. You were old enough to know that."

Michael groans, his hands twitching as if he wants to grab his nose. "I said sorry. I didn't mean it."

"Yes, you did," Leo says behind me, his voice sounding soothing, as if trying to set Michael at ease. I give him a puzzled look, but he shakes his head slightly at me. I step back, letting Leo do this thing. He has more experience with this type of stuff than me. "You did mean it. And she's not the only one, is she? What did you do to the others?"

Michael looks up at Leo, staring into his eyes. I'm not sure what's going on here. It's almost like Michael is under a trance, caught in the blue-green stare of Leo.

After he swallows roughly a few times, Michael says, "I killed them. I wasn't going back to prison, but I couldn't stop. I'm sick. I need professional help."

My blood boils at his statement. It's only sheer force of will that holds me in place from socking him in the jaw again.

Sounding like he's proud of Michael for confessing, Leo says, "Good. Who are they?"

"Will you let me go if I tell you?"

Leo smiles as if Michael can trust him, but I see it. This smile is one of disgust and contempt, not the friendly nature that Michael thinks it is. I've learned to read Leo's smirks and smiles and emotions over the past week we've spent together. This is not a friendly smile. "Of course."

Michael gives us three names and where the girls are buried. He tells us he kept a trophy from each girl—earrings he snatched from their ears before he killed them.

My stomach roils, hearing him talk about raping and murdering young girls like it's nothing. Leo listens attentively, his face not giving away anything about learning this bit of information. I find it hard to not fucking deck him again, but Leo gives me another small shake of his head, so I back off.

Once Michael is done talking, he licks his lips and wiggles. "I won't tell the cops what happened. I'll tell my job I got into an accident or something. You can trust I won't tell anyone you kidnapped me. Besides, I can't go to the cops if I told you about what I did to those girls." Michael laughs nervously as he looks at Leo. "You can let me up now."

"Oh, Michael. What gave you the idea that I'm not a liar?" Leo smiles his real smile, all his dark thoughts flashing on his face. Michael's eyes widen, and he starts begging, telling Leo he'll give him whatever he wants, to just let him go.

Leo ignores him, walking over to me. "Can I have my fun?"

I slide closer to him, kissing him gently on the cheek. I've asked all I needed to know. Now it's his turn to keep his promise to me. "Yes. I can't wait to see."