Owen 454

Owen

The moment I come, I shove myself off the girl I mistakenly brought home. What the fuck was I thinking? Kyrie will be home soon, if she isn’t already, and I sure as fuck can’t let her walk in to see a dead woman sprawled out on our couch. I pace the floor, gripping my head and digging my fingertips into my skull. Swiping my pants from the floor, I fish my phone from the pocket and shove my legs in. There’s only one person I can call with this.

Once Sahib, my best friend and partner, is on his way, I realize how late it's gotten. Shit . What if Kyrie did come home? Panic weaves into my chest as I jog up the stairs quietly, then sneak down the hall to her room. The door is closed and no light shines from underneath. Is she asleep? Did she know I was downstairs? Did she see? No, she couldn’t have. There’s no way she would have quietly walked away if she’d witnessed me strangle someone to death.

Holding my breath, I try the handle, and it turns. I gently push the door open to see a lump under the blankets. I tiptoe, keeping my presence unknown as I approach the bed to see Kyrie curled up. She appears to be sleeping; her breath is even, and her body is relaxed. Thank fuck. I can only hope that means she came home and went right to bed without even realizing I was in the living room .

I spend too long staring at her like a fucking creep, but I can’t help it. I’ve been infatuated with Kyrie since I first laid eyes on her eighteen years ago. That infatuation morphed and grew into the twisted obsession I have for her now. Where I spend endless nights fantasizing about how I could worship her body after making her suck my cock like my good little princess. I’ve been driving myself crazy wondering how the fuck this date of hers has been treating her. Is he polite? Is he respecting her? Is he keeping his fucking hands to himself? That’s how I ended up at the club. I was having a bad night, beyond angry and beyond sexually frustrated. Repeated images of anyone other than me touching my princess played on a loop. The idea of her seeking any form of comfort in another man’s arms had me in a rage.

I close my eyes, sighing as I remind myself of the dead whore on my couch. Fuck, I shouldn’t have brought her here. Sahib wouldn’t have cared if I killed her at the club. But that’s what Kyrie does to me. I hardly remember going to the club to seek someone to take my frustrations out on, then bringing her here? I never do that. Staring down at my beautiful girl and unable to help myself, I run my fingers through her hair. I frown when she flinches, but nothing else happens. I shake my head before leaving her room and head back downstairs to wait for Sahib .

To my surprise, he’s in my living room staring at the body. I must have been upstairs with Kyrie longer than I thought for him to already be here. A smirk stretches my face as I move to stand next to him. “Fucker, you could have knocked.”

“Why would I bother waiting?” he replies, never taking his gaze off the corpse. He has a point, though. Sahib is impatient, with no boundaries on the best of days, add in a dead body in need of disposing, it’s no surprise he barged right in. “So, I must know what made you break all your own rules and bring one home. Does Kyrie have a strangulation kink too?”

His smirk is devious, making me want to punch him. “Fuck you, she was out, and I wasn’t thinking straight. At all.”

“Kyrie went out?” He snaps his gaze in my direction, one eyebrow raised. He’s known Kyrie all her life, knows what a homebody she’s always been, especially since Glen and his wife passed. He’s also the only person on this earth who knows how I feel about my eighteen-year-old granddaughter. Not because I need someone to gossip with, but the asshole is far too observant and noticed a pattern in the looks of women I play with. He took a giant educated guess and has kept my secret since. But he owes me just as much.

My voice is a harsh growl as I answer him. “Yes. On a fucking date. With a boy .”

Sahib just nods. “Well, that explains everything, really. No wonder you’re so distracted. Did this one come from the club? She looks familiar.”

He gestures to the body, focusing back on the matter at hand. Never one to spend too much time on the emotional bullshit. I jerk my chin in a nod, still pissed with myself for letting this happen. My gaze travels up to the ceiling as I wonder if we can pull this off without waking Kyrie. Sahib leans forward, studying the state of her and the bruising around her neck. “Well, at least you didn’t make a mess like last time.”

I flinch a little at the mention of last time . I’d heard Kyrie getting herself off in the shower, and the primal need that surged through me was too much that I immediately left for the club. The poor girl ended up with her throat slit.

“This will be an easy cleanup, you just need to help me get her out of here quietly so your little princess doesn’t catch us disposing of your dirty little secret. ”

I level him with a death glare, and he responds with a shit-eating grin. I love the man, but I fantasize about killing him at least five times a day. The fucker knows how I feel about his ribbing regarding Kyrie.

We get to work gathering up the girl’s body from the couch and carrying her to the garage where she’s unceremoniously dropped. I head inside to clean any evidence of a strange woman in our home. The sudden thought has nausea swirling in my stomach. Never again. The thought of some cunt taking up Kyrie’s space makes my skin crawl, and I decide as soon as this is dealt with, I’m taking a scalding shower. That shit stays at the club from now on. When the cleaner arrives, he sets to work breaking and dislocating all her joints. I tilt my head as he goes about neatly tucking her body into a large duffel he takes to his van.

Sahib pays him, and he leaves with no fuss. Then Sahib turns his midnight gaze on me, studying me with an intimate knowledge. I stare back at my best friend, willing him not to say anything. No such luck. “I’ll start looking for new girls. Maybe one of the cartels has some to trade.” I raise an eyebrow, and he rolls his eyes at me. “Well, I’m going to need to replace the ones I know we’re getting ready to lose to your temper if this date goes well. ”

I open my mouth to protest, then snap it closed, my fists clenched at my sides. Fucker’s not wrong.