Page 28 of Blood
I pause in front of her. “What’s wrong, baby sister?”
She makes another frustrated noise.
“I can’t understand you.” I laugh and watch her face grow even more red with anger. If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man.
But looks don’t kill. Guns do. Or knives. And I’m not the one who will die here tonight.
I pull a switchblade out of my pocket and slice through the shirt she’s wearing. Whoever the man was who let her borrow this outfit, I hope I get to meet him. I’d like to slice him up, just like his clothes.
I let the blade rest between her breasts. Fuck, she has nice tits. Shame I couldn’t enjoy them before now. I stare for another minute, then toss the knife on the floor. I bring both hands to her breasts, squeezing. They feel even better than they look.
I finally drag my eyes away from those glorious tits and back to her face. “If I take the tape off, will you behave?”
She nods. I grasp the edge of the tape, then pull harder than I need to. It comes off, ripping a cry from her throat with it as she spits her underwear out of her mouth.
“Fuck, Asher! What’s going on? What are you doing?”
I’m now regretting taking the tape off—just a little. I don’t want to talk, but I do want to hear her cry. I narrow my eyes at the small figure on the bed.
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
Her eyes flash fire. She has spunk. It was always one of the many things I liked about her. “Well, I’m not.”
I shake my head with pity. “It’s a shame. The guy we hired sounded reliable. I suppose even the best of us can make mistakes.”
“You hired him?” Her expression goes from incredulous, to hurt, to angry.
“I mean, the Kings paid for it, but yeah. I made the decision, convinced them you needed to die.” No reason not to own up now. She’ll be dead soon enough. I can play while I clean up my mess.
“Why?” she whispers.
I don’t answer. I tighten the ropes that bind her ankles, pulling her legs farther apart. Then I climb onto the bed, kneeling between her parted legs.
“Asher. Don’t.” She pulls at her bindings, desperation filling her features.
I ignore the horror in her voice. Instead, I pull her labia apart to reveal her sweet cunt. It’s swollen, pink. Someone’s been inside her recently. The edges of my vision burn red. I bring my hand down on her mound with a sharp slap. “Who fucked you?”
She cries out, but she shakes her head. “It’s none of your business, you sicko.”
I twist my lips in a cruel smile. It is my business, because she’s my toy now. I shove two fingers roughly into her pussy, forcing a cry from her lips. I twist them inside her, then pull them out and shove three fingers back in.
Tears form in her eyes. One slips down her cheek. “Asher. No. I’m your sister.”
I pull my hand out of her cunt and shove my fingers in her mouth. My fingers are deep enough that she gags. Maybe I’ll fuck her mouth first. It doesn’t really matter. I’m going to ruin all of her before I kill her.
I wonder what it would be like to fuck her corpse. The thought makes me hard.
I free my erection from my jeans, tossing the gun on the side table, out of her reach. I pull my fingers out of her mouth and use her saliva to coat my cock.
“Asher. No,” she whispers again.
“Shut up, whore. You’re not my fucking sister.”
22
Everleigh
Asherkneelsoverme,his hand on his cock. I’ve never seen him like this. The sweet, protective boy who watched out for me, who chased away neighborhood bullies, is gone. The man in his place is one I don’t recognize. This man is psychotic, unhinged.
