Page 19 of His Good Girl
“Begging won’t save you now,” I murmur, taking the blade and swiftly slicing her throat open just above the loosened tie.
She makes a gurgling sound, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets in shock. Her hands go to her neck, covered in her blood within moments. Rising, I lean down, yank the tie from around her neck, and wipe the blade before stuffing them both into my pocket.
Shelley writhes as she bleeds out all over the pure white carpet. Smiling, I turn from her and swipe everything from the nightstand onto the floor—the lamp thuds on the carpet, her books, the empty glass. Turning to the dresser, I ram my gloved fist into the mirror and knock it over, clearing all her perfumes and makeup onto the floor with one sweep. I pull all her clothes out of the dresser onto the floor as she gurgles and chokes on her blood behind me, and finding some pieces of jewelry, I pocket them before turning to the walk-in closet where I know she keeps more in the hidden drawers. Popping them open, I grab handfuls of the expensive diamonds and gold watches before I turn to leave, stepping over her body which has now gone still over the pool of blood surrounding her.
Striding purposefully through the apartment, I quietly open the door and close it, and press the elevator button to go down. It dings immediately, so I step in and descend to the ground floor, leaving the building before removing my gloves and shoving them in the pocket with the knife and jewels.
Crossing over the road, I head back to Serena’s building on the opposite side of the city, needing the air to clear my head and the stench of blood from my senses, only to stare up at the windows, my craving for her heightened by the kill. Dragging my phone out of my back pocket, I dial Quentin. He answers after one ring.
“It’s taken care of.”
He hangs up without a word, so I put the phone away, and with every ounce of willpower I have, I turn from Serena’s building to cross the city one last time tonight to go home and contemplate how to deal with her on Monday. At least I have the weekend to remove whatever feelings I have for her so that I’m devoid of this craving the next time I have to see her.
Chapter13
Serena
The groan that escapes me hurts my head. It’s pounding, my mouth is dry, my back aches, and I’m freezing. My eyes are gritty when I open them, and my ribs hurt from crying. But I’m okay.
Having spent the night on the floor, I’m stiff as a board, but I had my mini-breakdown, and now I’m…okay.
Hauling my sore body up by using the sofa as leverage, the first thing I do is head to the shower. It’s hot, soothing, and makes me feel like I wasn’t run over by the past truck full of horrible memories and something resembling normal.
Whatever that is.
Dried and dressed in my comfiest pjs, intending to do what I wanted to last night and watch movies in bed with food and lots of drink—hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere, right?—I head to the kitchen to prep, noticing it is 10 AM. My phone ringing pulls my attention away from the busy work of making enough snacks to keep me fed all day. Rooting around in my bag, I pull it out and answer when I see it’s my mom.
“Hi.”
“Hi, baby. Everything okay?”
“Yep, all good.” I say the lie with a straight face. I mean, Iamgood. Now. I wasn’t a few hours ago. It seems I have become the master of compartmentalizing my shit, but I’ve been doing it for twelve years, so it makes sense.
“About the job, how did it go?”
Her casual tone makes me hold onto my snicker. She is so obvious. “It was fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yeah, good. I made a new friend. She’s nice.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she says, sounding relieved. “Are you happy with it?”
“If you mean, am I going back on Monday, then the answer is yes. It’s a good job, and maybe you’re right. It’s time I got my head on straight and thought about my future.” I can’t help the ‘yapping’ my hand does as I spin her this tale, just to keep her happy and off my case. Although, in all fairness, it probably isn’t a lie. Sure, Logan sucks, but everyone else seems nice. Except for the other asshole with his name on the door, but hopefully, I won’t have many interactions with him.
“Fantastic. I know Quen was glad you accepted his offer.”
Again, I try not to laugh. She is the world’s best spinner. She can turn anything around to suit her purposes. I love her to bits, but she missed her calling as a politician.
“So if you’re staying there, I’ve popped something into your account to see you through to the end of the month. It’s a loan!” she exclaims loudly before I can tell her to fuck off. “I expect every cent back. But you’re going from weekly pay to waiting to be paid monthly, and that’s a difficult transition, so please don’t argue with me.”
I can almost see her with her fingers crossed, chewing her lip as she waits for my answer.
“Thanks,” I say, knowing she’s right. “And I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.” I leave it at that. There’s no need for fanfare.
“Okay, good. I’ll speak to you again soon, baby. Be good.”
“You too, Mom.”
