44. Cohen

44

COHEN

I t didn't take long before I graduated from watching Emily through her bedroom window to helping myself to her condo. I'd memorized the code to her door after the first night, and bypassing her limited security measures was child's play after that. She didn't know how close I was, still blissfully unaware of the danger within arm's reach.

I traced my fingertips over her skin and watched it pebble beneath my touch as she slept. Curled the ends of her hair around my hand and fought the urge to tug before tucking it back behind her ear, while the simple gold studs she wore at night glowed under the moonlight that streamed in from her window. She really was the ideal specimen of a woman.

If she weren't such a manipulative little cunt…

I stalked around her bed. Lingered by the footboard and continued to observe the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Listened to the soft sounds she made in her sleep. Her dark hair sprawled around her like a halo she hadn't earned. Begging me to reach out and touch her. To see the fear in her eyes the moment she realized she wasn't alone. That she hadn't been alone for a very long time.

My little pet stirred, rolling onto her side and showing me her bare back. The curve of her spine and the soft globes of her ass. So pale without the darkness of a solid handprint. My handprint.

I slipped onto the bed, positioning my body behind hers. Unable to stop myself. My movements slow, predatory. I'd been watching Casper. How he moved so seamlessly. Soundlessly. Learning how he could navigate a room without being heard or seen. And right now, I was using that skill set to my advantage.

Emily sank against my hold, like it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. Her respirations moving in time with mine as I lowered a hand from her flat abdomen and dipped my fingers beneath her waistband. Circling her clit in soft, slow, barely there motions. The pressure not nearly enough to get her off but fuck if she wasn't drenched. Grinding her hips against my tactical pants and whimpering low in her throat.

"What are you dreaming about, Emily?" It was barely a whisper against her ear. So quiet it would have been carried off in the wind.

She moaned in reply. Still lost to the deepest stage of REM sleep while her body was thrumming. Electrified and in desperate need of relief. Relief I wouldn't give her. Because this was about me. A little indulgence after all the effort I'd been putting in. All the time I'd been dedicating to my surveillance. All the hours I'd spent watching her. All those instances where I'd been forced to see her laugh and flirt at a distance. Slutting her ass around the city like she hadn't made a deliberate decision to kill our child. Then pretended as if neither of us ever existed.

I could feel my rage boiling beneath the surface. My hand fighting the urge to sweep up against her throat and squeeze. And squeeze and squeeze. Until her eyes were bulging out of her head, her lips turning that pretty shade of violet blue, the capillaries bursting and changing color.

I forced myself off the bed, tamping down the aggression beating against my chest and screaming at me to give into my instincts to destroy her. Because that's what it would be. Destruction. Not death. I would destroy everything that made her, her . Until her body was unrecognizable, each part of her as pulverized as the connection between us. So there wasn't even the slightest urge for me to fix her.

My steps were slow, deliberate as I backed out of the room. Still watching her motionless form on the bed until all I could see was the hourglass silhouette against the darkness of the mattress. Then I slipped out the front door, locking it behind me and turning around to find Casper staring at me with that usual stupid-ass smirk on his face.

"You smell like pussy," he hummed, like he could taste her on my fingertips.

"And you don't. Maybe you should go get some," I grunted in reply. Walking past him and making a beeline for the van.

Fucker was worse than a coked-up toddler. Followed me around like he was looking to suck my dick or some shit. Though it very well could be Adrian's way of keeping my ass on a short leash. Making sure I didn't go rogue again. I didn't care enough to put too much thought into it as long as I continued to get paid. So I could feed my habit. My addiction to one particular cunt.

Casper jumped into the passenger seat, waiting for me to slide behind the wheel before landing me with a glare. "So what is it about this chick? I mean, sure, she's hot. I guess. In the girl-next-door kinda way. But I've seen better." He shrugged.

"You won't be seeing shit after I remove your eyes from their sockets."

"Always so violent, Franks." He tsked his tongue. "Is that what happened to you? Were you looking at some fucker's girl a little too long for his liking?"

I threw the van into drive and screeched the tires down Emily's street. Hoping the shit was loud enough to wake her. Have her sitting up in that bed all hot and horny. Without a fuckable cock in sight. I patted my pocket, where I'd tucked her vibrator away for safekeeping, and one side of my lips tipped up into a grin.

"No, because I'm not stupid. I know when to keep my mouth shut."

"I'm gonna find out eventually, you know. What she did to you and what it has to do with your face." Casper tossed his hands behind his head and leaned back in his seat. "Hit a drive-through, would ya? I'm dying to dig my teeth into something pink."