Page 71 of Worse Than Wicked
“The police?” I ask, sitting up, my heart pounding erratically. “What for? Are they coming here?”
I just got the fucking pearls after days without. If I have to flush them, I’m going to be pissed.
Or maybe they knew.
Baron might have contacted Maverick ahead of time, knowing that’s who I’d call. He might have told him to call if I asked for drugs, might have told the cops to come here so they can bust me and teach me a lesson.
“They’re not coming here,” Baron says, watching me with a frown.
He knows, my demon whispers. He’s going to turn you in. That’s why he made them in the first place. He knew you’d get hooked. He knows you’re weak.
“Grandpa Darling had an unfortunate accident,” Mabel says, beaming up at Baron.
“What kind of accident?” I ask, my heart still galloping at a concerning rate.
“He fell out a window,” Baron says.
Mabel giggles. “It really was quite unexpected.”
“I’m guessing you had something to do with that?” I ask, scowling at my brother.
He shrugs. “The police ruled it an accident. Mabel and I were the only witnesses, but Preston attested to the fact that he’s been unusually clumsy lately.”
“And you didn’t think you should run that by me first?”
“Would you have wanted to be there?” Baron asks.
“No,” I grumble. “But still.”
How can I tell him that I want to be part of everything they do, that I want to be included, even when they do shit I want no part of? I had my share of killing already—more than my share. Even if he is an evil bastard, I don’t want to kill anyone.
“It just happened,” Mabel says, coming over to the bed. “We didn’t plan it.”
Boots squirms free and drops to the floor, stalking off with his tail flicking back and forth like even being close to me is an annoyance. I don’t know what his problem is. I’m always nice to him.
“Whatever,” I say.
“You can be there for the next one,” Mabel offers.
“The next one?”
“Yeah, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Baron says. “In a town this small, if random people start showing up dead, they’re going to know it’s not an accident.”
“I didn’t mean for you to push Grandpa,” Mabel says. “I thought we’d lead the Black Widow Killer to him. Now he’s already dead, so we can’t test her and see if she’s still watching.”
Baron frowns. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I didn’t think you’d just kill someone like that,” she says, looking absolutely starstruck.
“Why not?” he asks. “You saw what happened to the last guy who fucked you.”
She blanches, her smile fading.
Blood gushes over her face, into her eyes, her mouth, bubbling in her nostrils.
Blood gushes out her mouth, and she cackles, ponytails swinging.
Baron doesn’t seem to notice.
