Page 117 of Caged
“It’s fine, Father. I have it under control. It’s just a jealous ex-girlfriend or some slighted loser we didn’t let pledge,” I slur.
“An ex-girlfriend?” my father scoffs, latching onto that singular part of my explanation. “You expect me to believe an ex-girlfriend severed the Rothchild boy’s penis with a bear trap?”
I sit up abruptly, causing a rush of blood to drain from my head. “What did you say?” I ask, lightheaded. God, I’m like fucking Monroe and her anemia.
“And cut out the other boy’s tongue!”
“A bear trap?” I stammer.
“Do you not know what’s going on at your own fraternity, Kieren? You have an enemy who’s out for blood.”
Oh, I know she’s out for blood.
“This is not some jealous girl with an axe to grind, unless she’s the one who hired a hitman. A woman doesn’t have the stomach for violence of this nature.”
I rub my forehead, and frankly, I don’t know if I should be petrified or in awe of my sweet puppy. Did she really have it in her to inflict this level of bodily harm? Cut out Harrison’s tongue? Slice off Barrett’s penis? Could she really be so full of vengeful acrimony, that she’s become a tornado of bloodthirsty viciousness headed straight for me?
Goddamn.Come get me, you fucking psychopath queen.
My cock stiffens under my pants, and this bullshit conversation with my feckless father needs to end.
“It’s under control, Father. I need to go.”
“Listen here, boy. Both of us know the absolute mess you caused this family back in April with that mentally unstable girlfriend of yours. X was ready to pull the fucking plug. Do you recall how much damage control I had to do to smooth over your fuck-up? You and your pathetically weak emotions. X and the others will be there next weekend, and I need you to get your shit together or kiss that little trust fund of yours goodbye. I will not have this conversation with you again. Next time, it’s over for you, Kieren.”
The line goes quiet,finally. What I wouldn’t give to stab an icepick through that man’s eye or severhisballs with a bear trap. I grin at the thought.
Fuck, I hope it’s Monroe. A low rumble reverberates in my throat as I unzip my pants and fist my cock. I want it to be Monroe so fucking bad. I scramble to my knees and repositionmyself at the top of the bed so I can brace my forearm against the wall as I lean forward.Get this fucking pillow out of the way, I think to myself as I begin thrusting my hips, fucking the hand squeezed around my cock like its Monroe’s tight, hot pussy.
I want to kill her. I want to fuck her so goddamn much that I can’t think straight. Can’t she just come back to me? Can’t she just be mine? I bear down, finding friction in the mattress, as I fuck my own hand with my eyes pinched closed, fantasizing about her slick, pink cunt. How good it would feel to slam into her, to hear the slap of our groins, to dig my nails into her thighs, to hear her scream my name... I’ll break her apart. I’ll shatter her to fucking pieces and lick her wounds right before I slit her fucking throat.
And then I’ll drink her blood like it’s holy water, ready to cleanse my blackened soul. I’ll lick the rivulets of crimson off her perfect, pert breasts. I’ll spread open her thighs and feast on her clit, lubricating her cunt with her own blood, and then I’ll fuck her again. And again. And again. I’ll fuck her as blood spirts from her neck, coating me in her very essence as I fill her with mine. A cry rips from my lips as ribbons of cum shoot onto my wall, catching the edge of the mattress. Beads of sweat run down the tattoos covering my chest. Monroe loved my tattoos. She fucking loved…
A silent sob chokes my thoughts.
She was mine.
Mine until I ruined her.
She fucking loved me.
And after I kill her, I know just what I’ll do, because since the day she left, it’s all I can think of.
When they toss her lifeless body into the icy depths of the lake, our tragic love story will finally come full circle.
Because I’ll go with her.
59
MONROE
Present Day,
Sigma
“What did I tell you?” I ask smugly as I park the car I inherited from my deceased grandmother on the side of the road at the edge of Sigma’s property. Gabi gave me grief about taking this car instead of the Audi, but this car is registered in my name and the Audi is not. If tonight goes as I hope it will, leaving behind a car that belongs to me at the crime scene is a critical part of my plan.
Sigma is swarming with life. A short queue of women dressed in super hero costumes are gathered outside the front door. Granted, it’s a bit early to call this a Halloween celebration, but who doesn’t love an excuse to dress up like an unhinged slut capable of destroying the world?
