Page 37 of Broken Queen
But I watched everyone here, and this particular estate manager was more of a nosy bitch than I was.
“You know where Toben Astor lives?” I asked.
He wrinkled his nose, then flattened his shirt. “I don’t know who you’re talking about or why you would ask?—”
“I see you,” I said, interrupting him. “Every night. You go through Daddy Bloom’s study as if you’re cleaning, but we both know you aren’t dusting shit. A little birdie told me a business coach got killed here because she was snooping. What are you going to do when the director finds out that you’re a curious little cat too?”
He shriveled inside of himself. “Let me get you the address.”
Toben Astor lived a few blocks away from the Bloom Estate, but within the same picturesque community, Opulent Gates. After making sure the address checked out, I waited for the night. His house was a massive one-story building with sharp sloping roofs, like a man spreader on a bus taking up two seats instead of one. I crunched my thumbs together, waiting. It was better to be focused on Zira than it was to be aimlessly stirring up shit. Zira had a goal, and in a way, I had a goal now too, beyond my sister. My goal was pleasing Zira. As long as I got some information and pussy in the end, what did it matter?
But it was more than that. This wasn’t just a goal to avoid boredom, nor was it only about getting information about Gabby’s death. It was something else. Something strangely pleasant. Too good to be true. I didn’t like it, but I never dwelled. You always had to keep going.
I had some supplies with me. A little injection would knock the Dentist out, then I would transport him back to my motel. There was a beam that went through the middle of the room that would hang him nicely, like a hog on a hook.
After there had been no movement from his room in an hour, I lock-picked the back door, then wandered through the house. It appeared that he was another one of the rich assholes in Opulent Gates who didn’t have live-in house staff, but he had security cameras everywhere. Using a hoodie to hide most of my identity, I stalked through the hallways. When the Dentist showed up missing tomorrow, that footage would be a hint, but honestly, what did I care? Of course he was kidnapped. The question is, by whom? They could see my pickup in the driveway, but half of the contractors working in Opulent Gates had the same make and model. I blended in.
The Dentist laid in bed, his face puffy and circular, like a cherub. Bald and aging, his whiskers hung down like a disappointed puppy. I snarled, imagining his puny dick in my queen. Knowing the debauched shit I had seen at the Masquerade, it was pretty likely that he had fucked her too. Zira, baby, I thought to myself, You can do better than his weeny prick.
But it wasn’t her choice; it was her father’s. I guess blood meant nothing to Daddy Bloom if you had a pussy.
Right as the Dentist stirred, I pricked his neck, pushing the plunger all the way down, letting the sedative disperse in his veins. He stilled once again and I cracked my neck. Easy as pie. I threw back the covers to hoist him up, but my eyes landed on a wooden chest to the side of the bed. I had to look. Inside, there were thousands of teeth, handfuls upon handfuls, like grains of sand. He didn’t keep his fetish to Zira alone; there were others.
Finally, I scooped him up. The bastard was heavy, but I grunted, taking him to my truck. You owe me big time, little bloom, I thought as I tossed him in the back, then ran back inside for the chest.
Once I was packed and ready, I quickly drove to the motel, parking around the back of my room, and took him inside quickly. Each of the motel units was independent: a one bedroom structure with its own walls and roof. My particular unit had a bath and shower combo, a toilet, a closet, two crappy queen beds, and a door in the front and in the back. A large beam ran across the middle of the room to support the roof and structure, and after I stripped him naked, I used rope to hoist him up by his legs. He swung back and forth like a cut of meat in a butcher shop, hanging in the refrigerated chamber, waiting to be properly sliced. I had a few minutes before he woke up. I strapped a sleep mask to his eyes. The more disoriented, the better. I called Zira, holding the phone between my ear and my neck.
“Yes?” she answered.
“You know the motel off of the highway, just outside of Fairview?”
“Sure.”
“Come find me.”
I ended the call, knowing that curiosity would get to her. She would be here. Then I set out my weapons like choices in a buffet. A sniper rifle. My pistol, a hand-me-down from my dead father—or, honestly, stolen post-mortem from his nightstand. Brass knuckles I had won in a poker game. And plenty of knives of varying shapes and sizes, all of them gleaming in the light. There were options for my queen. I wanted her to have fun with it.
Knuckles knocked on the door, and at that moment, Toben woke up. He grunted.
“My head,” he murmured. With his hands tied behind his back, he swung around like a bag of potatoes. “What? What is this? Who are you?”
Ignoring his cries, I opened the door. Zira, like the queen she was, stood there in complete elegance: a lacy white dress clinging to her form, showing off her collarbones. It was perfect; she could drench her dress in Toben’s blood, painting herself like a canvas.
“If you wanted to fuck me, you could have said that,” she said.
But before I could give a smart remark, Toben interrupted us: “Please! I’m begging you! Help me!”
Zira leaned to the side, her eyes widening with each mournful grunt from our captive. She raised a brow, and I lifted my shoulders.
“This is better than a hookup. Trust me,” I said.
“You’re a show off,” she said.
I licked my lips. “Only for you, my queen.”
Her heels tapped against the thin carpet, like a clock clicking to its final countdown. She made her way to the swinging meat, a blindfold on his eyes, sweat dripping down his face. His exposed cheeks were bright red, filled with blood and anxiety.
“You did this for me,” Zira said, her tone wistful, the kind of sound I had been gunning for with the crown. But this? This was better. A man swinging to his death as he struggled to live. A man who had taken her teeth. A man she hated.
