Chapter 12

12

LINCOLN

B lood drips from my gloves as my knuckles smash into his face again and again, my entire body rejoicing in the grunts of pain that slip through his lips without pause. Grunts that I know he would get off on, if he were the one inflicting the pain like he is so used to. I've seen countless files of his victims, pictures of their bruises, paragraphs of their pain, yet now he is the one beneath the monster, I'm not sure he finds it all that erotic.

David Bennet was predictable in his routine, which made watching him and capturing him almost too easy. I didn't even bother dragging it out. Last night I stalked him in the shadows, imprinting his crimes to memory as he strolled through the shit hole bar he favors like he was invincible. Knocking him down from his self made pedestal was almost poetic, beautiful even, not that anyone else would appreciate my art. Erasing men like him is a service, one I perform well, even though the girls he hurt will never know peace after what he did to them, they will know safety, and that's all thanks to me.

"Please, just stop," he begs, his words slurred as the blood spills from his mouth and nose, and in response, I kick him in the chest and force him down to the floor.

"Did you stop?" I spit, pressing the tip of my knife into his skin between two of his ribs until more of his blood begins to pour, and he cries out even louder. "When they begged and pleaded for you to stop touching them, stop hurting them, did you?" I ask, repeating the same motion with my knife again and again, until his sides are completely sliced up. "No, you didn't, did you? You got off on their fear, their screams. They thrashed and cried and you got harder and rougher, stealing their life from them without ever letting them meet their maker."

Blood and tears stain his face as he looks up at me in horror, seeing the monster I only ever unleash inside the walls of this place, and I see the moment he realizes. The second he knows that he isn't getting out of here, not alive anyway, and the pleasure it brings me is unmatched. There is nothing quite like watching the life disappear out of someone's eyes, especially when that someone thought they were untouchable.

Words tumble from his mouth, no doubt more pleas, but they aren't recognizable, not anymore. Instead of answering his pleas, I force my blade to his sternum, slicing right down the middle, deep enough to see bone. He passes out, his life lingering right on the edge, as I reach for my mini saw and start to cut through his ribs one at a time, until his breath slowly stops. Okay, so maybe I accidentally slipped the saw into his heart, whoops.

"This one is for Clara," I spit, tossing one of the bones aside. "This one is for Sophie." I repeat the motion, adding bone after bone to the pile, until every last one of his victims' names have been plucked from his body and he lays lifeless beneath me. Only then do I stop, slumping down to the floor beside him in the pools of his blood, as my exertion forces me to take a break.

This is the moment where most people wou ld feel guilt, some grief even, but me? I feel nothing. There is no regret, no anger, no shame, there aren't even any feelings of justice or accomplishment, just an agonizing emptiness that has lingered since the moment my mother took her last breath. It doesn't matter what I do to try and fill the void she left behind, it never works, and as I sit here in this prick's blood, I feel just as helpless as the eight year old little boy who sat there in hers.

I'm not sure how long I sit there, but once I have my breath back and my heart rate has returned to normal, I push myself back onto my knees and get back to work. I use my saw and other tools to break down his body until he is nothing but a mound of body parts, then I mix up the chemicals I need to erase him and heave what's left of him into the container, letting the liquid work its magic.

While he is being broken down into nothing I get to work cleaning up. I gather up the last bits of him and toss them in the container, while also washing away his blood from all the surfaces. Then I put away my tools, and wait until the mixture has fully claimed him before I clean out the container too. Once everything is done I head outside and strip, tossing my clothes away to burn, while rinsing off any stray bits of blood on my skin until I am clean and my clothes are nothing but ash.

As I start my long walk back to the car, my mind can't help but wonder about the murders Asher accused me of this afternoon. I looked into them at length after he stormed from my office, and I can't help but feel uneasy about them, because he was right. The victims are my type, and their murders are right up my alley, yet their disposal is sloppy, almost like someone wants there to be a trail back to them. Which is stupid, because what kind of person wants to be caught for murder? I know I need to do some more digging, find the culprit before they accidentally lead police to the hoard of missing victims I have made dis appear, but after tonight my sole focus is going to be on the fact my best friend is getting married. Anything else will have to wait until I get back.

As soon as my car is in view, my eyes laser focus on the dark shadowy figure leaning against the trunk. It's the middle of the night, and I'm in the middle of the fucking woods, but apparently Asher Donovan's skill knows no bounds. It doesn't matter that it's almost 3am, and it certainly doesn't matter that he shouldn't have been able to find me. There he leans in his custom three piece suit, like a king waiting for his servant.

"I know I said any time you want, but I didn't take you for the type to get down and dirty in the woods," I call out, not quickening my steps as I erase the space between us, and only when we are standing almost toe to toe do I add, "Are you stalking me, Dark Prince?"

His body appears casual despite the fancy suit, as he leans back against the car with his ankles crossed, but I can see the tension in his jaw as he grinds his teeth. His eyes bore into mine, not daring to drop down my body for even a second as he grits, "I think the more important question is, why are you naked?"

A thrill like never before races down my spine at his presence, and my cock jumps beneath his tone. "Why? Do you like what you see, Ash?" I ask, purposely using his name in a way I know he loathes when it comes to me, and from the way his eyes darken, I know I'm getting under his skin.

"Lincoln," he warns, in that tone of his that usually makes people fall at his feet, but not me.

Ignoring his warning like always, I push on. "Is there a reason you're following me? I mean, I know we've established how much you love my company with the way you pinned me to the floor earlier. Did you come out here for a rematch?"

He opens his mouth, no doubt to toss back a cut-throat retort, but as I take a step closer, his eyes drop and before he can get anything else out he snaps, "Can you please put on some fucking clothes."

My heart starts to race in my chest as I ask, "Why, does my cock offend you?"

"Everything about you offends me, Blackwell," he snaps back without pause, and all I can do is smirk, as I lean my hand down by his hip and bring our bodies flush together, relishing in his sharp intake of breath.

"Want me to show you just how offensive I can be?" I breathe, inhaling his sweet scent as it mixes with the smokiness of mine. "Then instead of spitting my name in exasperation, you could scream it in exhilaration."

His chest thunders against my own as my words wash over him, and all I want to do is erase the last bit of space between us and claim his lips with mine. My entire body burning with the need to touch him, taste him, fucking consume him until we are one, and when his eyes drop to my lips just for a second, I can imagine doing just that.

My cock is rock hard against his thigh now and there is no way he doesn't feel it, and when I press into him even further, I can almost swear he swallows a groan, as he curses my name once more, and all I can do in response is roll my hips as his stare holds mine captive. "Lincoln, I'm warning you," he whispers, no bite behind his words whatsoever, and fuck if it doesn't make me want him even more.

"Are you really going to stand here and tell me you don't feel it?" I ask, being bolder than I ever have before, but this thing between us has been burning for months now. No, in fact, it's been aflame since the night I saw him shirtless laying across Elle's bed. I can still remember my eyes trailing over the dark angel tattoo across his chest, and the way he stared at me in disdain. We've come a long way since then, and I'm getting sick of him pretending that my entire existence is a disgust to him. "You k now sometimes I think you forget how good I am at stalking my prey, how much I need to watch them, and I can't tell you how many times I've watched you, Dark Prince." I shift my hips slightly, biting back a groan as my cock presses against his own, not surprised to find it coming to life with arousal.

"I don't know what you think you see when you look at me, Blackwell, but I'm telling you right now, you're wrong." He lays his words out like they are the law, but I guess he forgot how much I like to break it.

"Oh yeah? Then why haven't you pushed me away from you?" I ask, and only then does he move, but he doesn't shove me like I expected him to. Instead he stands to his full height, using his body to press against my own until I am forced to take a step back.

"I need you to stop looking my way, Blackwell, because I promise you there isn't anything here worth searching for." There is no looking for sympathy in his words, yet I feel it either way, because I know deep down that he truly believes that. I know what kind of home he grew up in, and I can only imagine the shit he had to deal with, so I'm not surprised he lets himself be alone. He's scared to let anyone in, and I can't even blame him for it. I know exactly what that's like, and until he's ready, no one will be able to break through the wall he's put up.

I don't bother with a response, and I let him watch me as I open the trunk of my car and pull out some black sweats, slipping them on, and readjusting my hard length without either of us saying a word. Only once I am completely covered do I give him my full attention again.

"Let's go," I finally say, slamming the trunk and moving round the car to the driver's side, as if nothing happened.

"Where?" Asher asks in confusion, as if my complete turnaround of the situation has given him whiplash.

"It's 3am, I want to go home to bed, " I reply, and his eyes widen so quickly that if I had the energy I'd laugh. "I'll drop you off at the penthouse on the way," I add, no longer gaining any pleasure in his discomfort.

"My car is at the edge of the forest," he replies quietly, and I nod.

"Then I'll drop you there."

No other words are said as we both climb into the car and I lock the doors, checking our surroundings before bringing the engine to life. As soon as I do, I note the missed calls and texts from my brothers and Logan, and hit his number first, until the ringing tone blasts around the car, and I can feel Asher's confusion pouring off of him in waves.

It doesn't take him long to answer, and when he does I can hear the smirk he is no doubt wearing in his tone. "I was beginning to think you forgot about me, baby," Logan purrs, and I swear I see Ash flinch when he realizes who I called.

"Sorry I got caught up with work," I lie easily, and Asher turns to glare at me, but I ignore him. "Did you all get settled in?" I add, and he quickly gives me a run down of their travels, as I guide my car through the trees in the dark.

"Did you see Ash today?" He adds at the end, and a part of me wishes Logan knew what I had been doing so I didn't have to lie to him.

"Yeah we were at the office together," I confirm, not technically lying, but also not knowing how to come up with an explanation as to why we are together right now.

"How did he look?" Logan purrs, and with my cock still half hard beneath my sweats, I can't help but smirk as I pull my gaze from the trees towards Asher.

"Tired and stressed from missing the girls, but still hot as fuck like always," I tell him honestly, and I swear my words have Asher blushing, but thankfully the shade of the trees covers it up for h im.

"Always," Logan agrees, and before I can switch the topic to safer territories, he adds, "Can't wait to drool over him shirtless for the next week, I get hard just thinking about it. Hey wanna jerk off over the phone about it?"

I smother my laugh with a cough, moving my gaze between the trees and Ash until I can barely look away from him, entrapped by his stare. "Save that for when I see you," I tell Logan honestly, and Asher's fingers tighten around where they rest on his knees.

"Fuck I can't wait for you to get here, is it pathetic that I miss you already?" Logan asks, bringing my focus back to him, and I can't hide my smile at the thought of him pining for me.

"I'm sure that's a normal sentiment among boyfriends," I muse, still not used to our new found relationship, yet I find myself adding, "But I miss you too."

"Miss me or miss fucking me?" He purrs, and my cock jumps beneath my sweats.

"Both," I reply honestly, feeling a little weird admitting that not just to him, but in front of Asher too.

"Okay, well now I know you aren't ignoring me so I will let you go," he teases, and I can hear voices approaching in the background so I know he needs to go himself. "But please try and get some sleep, you know I hate it when you don't look after yourself."

His caring for me is something I have learned to live with these last few months, yet still it makes my heart beat faster. "Yes, Doctor," I breathe back in a taunt and he laughs, the sound enlightening after the last few hours in the dark.

"Hey, you wanna play doctor with me, baby, all you gotta do is ask."

I shake my head with a smirk even though he can't see me. "Goodnight, Lo," I say, my chest feeling lighter than it has been since he left.

"Night, Superman."

The call cutting off resumes the silence surrounding me and Ash, and in the distance I see his car just a few yards from the road. I wish I had a reason for him to stay with me, his silent presence just as calming as Logan's, yet I know without Elle and Cassie he has no reason to come to the house, and with no work over the weekend, I won't see him now until Monday.

When I stop the car I expect him to move right away, but he doesn't, and when I turn to look at him I find him already watching me. For the first time since I have known him I see something other than loathing and lusting in his stare, but I don't know what it is.

"Logan doesn't know how you spend your evenings when you aren't with him?" He asks, and I don't know why I didn't expect this line of questioning from him, but surely he realizes that the only person who knows about the men I kill, is him.

"There are a lot of things that he doesn't know about me."

I don't know why I haven't told Logan, and not just him, but my brothers and Elle too, but I just can't bear to think about what they would say, and I don't think any of them would understand how or why I need this, but for some reason I know Asher does. Not that he's ever said that, and he isn't going to say it now, instead he looks at me in defeat, before opening his car door and slipping out.

I await the slam of it but instead he leans down and says, "Just because we were molded in the darkness doesn't mean we have to stay living in it, Lincoln. If you want things to work with Logan then you need to let him all the way in, because if you break his heart I will never forgive you." The words have barely registered in my brain before he steps back, and the slam I was waiting for finally comes, closing me in the car with the sentiment and threat he just left behind.

Yet all I can do is rejoice in the admission he just let slip without realizing.

Asher Donovan cares, and if that isn't a win, I don't know what is.