Page 11 of Heart Stopping
"It might be useful," she said.
"Good thinking," I said. Keeping an eye out for anyone who looked like an evil associate, I stepped toward the elevator and pressed the button beside the aging mechanism.
"What was your plan?" she asked as we stepped inside and let the car take us down. "With him, I mean." She spoke carefully, clearly mindful of the possibility the elevator contained a camera.
"Same as this," I said easily. "It was inevitable. You know what Carl is like, he gets drunk and needs to be carried home.Sometimes, I'm tempted to throw him in the nearest dumpster and let him sleep it off." Like I usually did.
So far no one pinned any random bodies on me. Sometimes I wondered if they just weren't looking very hard. I mean, if anyone had an inkling of the things men like this got up to, would they want to bother? I knew I wouldn't.
Unfortunately, the cops didn't get to pick and choose, so no doubt they did look.
"Yeah, Carl is disgraceful," she said honestly. "He should be ashamed of himself."
"I'm absolutely certain he's regretting all of his life choices right now," I said.
Hopefully somewhere very hot and painful. With everything I'd done, I'd probably see him again someday.
The elevator pinged. We stepped out, Harlow leading the way, her gaze shifting back and forth, looking for anything suspicious.
Well, maybe notanythingsuspicious, because someone very suspicious walked right behind her. Me.
Rather, she was looking for someone completely devoid of a moral compass. I could claim to have one of those. Some people might disagree, but those people were mostly dead.
"It's possible he was bluffing," I said. "About there being someone else."
People would say anything if it meant avoiding a horrible death. Or even a slightly less horrible maiming. Carl might have planned an evening by himself in front of the TV, eating all that pizza. It was a lot of pizza for one person when I thought about it. Unless he planned to have some for breakfast.
In retrospect, I should have brought it with us. It was a shame to waste perfectly good food. Oh well, that couldn't be helped now.
Harlow hummed a sound of agreement and jerked her head toward the street, indicating that I should continue to follow. That was exactly what I did, whistling a lively tune as if I wasn't carrying a dead body over my shoulder.
Just another Thursday night in the neighborhood. Nothing to see here folks, move along.
Except Harlow's ass, which swayed as she walked. What were the chances of another round with the beautiful Miss St. James? Me and my cock were down for it if she was.
What can I say? Killing assholes made me horny. Also, spending time with pretty women like her made me horny. I had a lot more orgasms left to give, and I wanted to give them all to her.
And have a couple myself.
CHAPTER 5
HARLOW
"That always smells amazing." Erin leaned over from where she was slicing mushrooms and sniffed at the cooking meatballs. Eyes half closed, she inhaled deeply before leaning back.
"My father's recipe never disappoints," I said. "Especially with nice, fresh meat, delivered this morning."
Right before Boner went back to Carl's apartment. If anything else went down there, he hadn't come back to tell me. I couldn't decide if I was disappointed or not. He made last night more interesting, but messy as fuck. Although, the…disposal was easier with his muscles involved.
"Can I ask you something?" Erin tossed the mushrooms into a container and closed the lid. I'd use them later for risotto.
"Depends what it is," I said.
I gave the meatballs a final toss before turning off the heat to let them rest. Snagging a spoon, I stirred the sauce that would go over the meatballs and spaghetti.
She leaned her back against the counter. "I was thinking, I'd like to be more than a kitchen hand. Do you think I have what it takes to be a chef?"
I glanced over to her and slowly began to smile. "It's about time." When she gave me a confused look, I smiled morebroadly. "I've been waiting for you to ask. If you didn't soon, I was going to give you a prod." I pointed the spoon in her direction and made a prodding motion with it, wincing as sauce fell off onto the tiled floor.
