Page 60 of Killer Confections
“Aaaand I don’t give a fuck,” I interrupt. “You fucked with what’s mine.”
He scoffs, looking away. “Okay, so what? You wanted to break in to threaten me? You already totaled my car, man.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I did that. Good times. But no threats. I don’t give second chances.” My smile falls as my eyelids lower to a piercing, predatory gaze. My lips thin as my jaw tightens. “I’ve seen the reports, Miller. You think it’s okay to fuck with women. Unfortunately, you stumbled across the one personwho doesn’t take lightly to assault.”
The fucker takes a step back as if he can sense the shift in the air. His wide eyes flicker to the front door, the intent on running behind them. “It was one time! I was young—”
“And the other times are off the record because of the hush money your old man provided,” I sneer. “You should have kept your fucking hands to yourself,” I stalk towards him. He makes a break for the door, his towel nearly slipping from his waist as he reaches for the one thing separating him from freedom.
Using only a fraction of my strength, I wrap a thick arm around his neck before he can escape. The column of his throat is tucked snugly into my elbow as I tighten my grip, restricting his airway and dragging him back toward the balcony.
He thrashes, kicking and clawing away at my arm with his blunt nails. Chance isn’t a small man. He’s a few inches shorter than me, but he’s filled out and heavy as fuck.
If I weren’t trained and had a good sixty pounds on him, he could probably break free of me easily.
“Shit, you’re making this hard,” I laugh. “Goin’ out fighting, are we?”
“F-fuck… you!” He rasps, gasping for the air. He can’t seem to get past my hold.
I give a deep, throaty chuckle as we near the balcony’s guard rail. “Looks like you won’t be fucking anything ever again. I should peel your goddamn meat from your bones for touching my girl, but seeing your splattered remains on the fucking pavement will have to do.”
“Stop!” He rasps, kicking harder as I lug him to the edge. The wind whips, hitting my face as I lean Chance over the rail. He gets a good look at what waits below, pushing back on me to get away. He opens his mouth to scream and I slap a hand over it.
“Shh,” I hiss in his ear. “You don’t want to ruin the fun! Now, tell me what you did wrong and I’ll consider letting you go.”
He whimpers, sounding pitiful as fuck. Tears well in his eyes, and I cover my snort with a well-placed cough.
“Come on, Chance,” I taunt. “Don’t you want to live?” He nods quickly and I pull my hand away from his mouth.
“I… I asked Loxley out on a date when she was taken.” He answers.
I sigh, sounding disappointed. “That’s not all. You got one more try.” To put emphasis on my words, I tilt him further over the ledge, rocking his body toward the cement below.
“Okay!” He shouts, gaining a few confused head turns, but no one bothers to stop and look up at us. “Okay,” he says quietly, and I bring him back down to his feet. “I-I touched what was yours and I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have done what I did to those women…”
“Bingo. And who belongs to me, Chance?” I grit out, my jaw ticking.
“Loxley! Loxley belongs to you,” he rushes. “Please, just let me go, man. I-I can give you anything you want. Do you want money? I have plenty! Just let me go!”
My head rolls back against my shoulders, his words washing over me. The feeling of someone else acknowledging that Loxley belongs to me gives me a euphoria I never could have imagined. It doesn’t dampen the rage I feel for him getting so close to her, but that’s easily solved. Can’t be mad at what doesn’t breathe.
I lean in close, jolting him. “I don’t want your money. I want to watch you fucking splatter. The women you’ve hurt deserve justice, and I’m going to give it to them.” Before he can protest, I force him over the ledge, listening to his receding scream and watching as his limbs flail uselessly.
I’m tucked away behind the railing, shielding myself from the onlookers below as people scream and scramble out of the way. The sickening sound of his body hitting the pavement, a muffled squelch coming from his cracked skull, sends the streets into a flurry. Disarray erupts and I smirk at my work, my eyes soaking in the crimson red that puddlesbelow him before backing into the room and lifting my phone to my ear.
“Cleaning service,” Burt, a middle-aged man that’s been with the syndicate since before I could walk, answers.
“There’s an accident on fifth. Poor fucker fell from his apartment’s balcony.” I say.
I hear a gruff rumble from the man. “And that’s the story we’re sticking to? Was it a direct hit?”
“Nope.”
Burt sighs, “Alright. We’re on it. Reaching out to Connor and Alana now for surveillance clean up.”
“You’re the best,” I hang up, rolling my shoulders before whistling a tune as I stroll the empty hallway to the emergency exit.
I shoulder the back door, lighting a cigarette as I take in the alleyway. The sun is still high, and I let the day wash over me as I get a slight buzz from the nicotine.
