He reaches into his expensive jacket and grabs a business card. “You’re beautiful.”
I comb my fingers through my hair and feign surprise. At a certain point, being called beautiful doesn’t surprise you anymore when you’re a stripper slash whore. If a man is horny enough, you instantly become the most beautiful woman in the world. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”
He hands me his card and caresses the top of my hand. “Call me.”
Before I can respond, he turns away from me and puts his hand on an equally handsome friend’s shoulder then walks away. I take a long glance at the card before tucking it into my bra and continuing on with my prowling act.
----
PRESENT
“Is there an alternative?” I question Noah. “If he goes to the police, you both go down. That’s not exactly a happy ending.”
He shakes his head in doubt. “Nothing comes to mind.”
“I understand your rage, but I also think you understand me. I won’t let you take the fall for this.”
“Then give me something. If his confession means nothing, then I have no problem going in there and snapping his neck.”
“Stop,” I demand and roll my fingers into my palm, clenching tightly. “Nobody else dies.”
Noah glides into the pew, reverting back to his nervous self with his feet tapping to an unheard symphony.
“I don’t know if it’ll work,” I say dryly. “But I have an idea.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“That depends.” I bite my lip and flashback to yesterday morning, when I had interrupted Noah’s sermon. “How are you with forgiveness?”
10
“ T his means nothing .” I hold the camera in my hands and model it for a still tied-up Ben. “It’s basically worthless.” I throw it against the wall with a nod of approval from Noah. It breaks on impact, sending pieces of plastic and metal scurrying across the floor. I pop onto my knees and hover in front of Ben. “So, Benjamin, where do you think that leaves your fate?”
He attempts to speak, but the gag turns his words into mere muffles.
“I don’t understand what he’s saying.” Noah shifts against the wall and bites into his thumb. “Maybe you should take the gag off.”
“Good idea.” I grab the ball of fabric and pull it out of Ben’s mouth. He takes a long, deep breath but looks too scared to talk. “What’s the matter, Ben?”
“You’re both crazy,” he says quietly. He’s beyond exhausted. “What are you going to do? Kill me?”
I rise to my feet. “Isn’t that what you deserve?”
“Fuck you.”
Phase two starts now. I give him a crooked smirk before punching him as hard as I can in the face—much harder than I had punched Noah earlier. His head spins in circles and I throw another punch, landing at the exact same spot as the first. My knuckles ache so I can only imagine his pain. “You want to say something else?”
He looks around the room, his swollen eyes struggling to stay open. “No,” he says weakly and spits on the floor.
“How about a confession?” I ask, but he’s done talking. He shuts his eyes and leans his head back. “Come on, Ben. There are no cameras here. I just need to hear you say it.”
He cackles wildly. “Why? Do you think it will bring him back?”
“Come on, give me something,” I beg, breaking the badass routine I’ve been carrying since we came back into the room. “Anything.”
“How about my cock?”
I back up as I scoff. The nerve is staggering.
“C’mon,” he continues. “You’re just another whore.”
“I’d rather be a whore than a murderer.” I rush to him again, this time throwing my body against his and knocking the chair to the floor. His head slams against the tile and he grunts in pain. “Let me repeat myself. Do you have anything you want to say?”
“No…”
I draw my foot back and kick him in the stomach. He yells out again and pushes back against the chair hard enough that the chair slides across the floor. I go to kick him again, but
I comb my fingers through my hair and feign surprise. At a certain point, being called beautiful doesn’t surprise you anymore when you’re a stripper slash whore. If a man is horny enough, you instantly become the most beautiful woman in the world. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”
He hands me his card and caresses the top of my hand. “Call me.”
Before I can respond, he turns away from me and puts his hand on an equally handsome friend’s shoulder then walks away. I take a long glance at the card before tucking it into my bra and continuing on with my prowling act.
----
PRESENT
“Is there an alternative?” I question Noah. “If he goes to the police, you both go down. That’s not exactly a happy ending.”
He shakes his head in doubt. “Nothing comes to mind.”
“I understand your rage, but I also think you understand me. I won’t let you take the fall for this.”
“Then give me something. If his confession means nothing, then I have no problem going in there and snapping his neck.”
“Stop,” I demand and roll my fingers into my palm, clenching tightly. “Nobody else dies.”
Noah glides into the pew, reverting back to his nervous self with his feet tapping to an unheard symphony.
“I don’t know if it’ll work,” I say dryly. “But I have an idea.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“That depends.” I bite my lip and flashback to yesterday morning, when I had interrupted Noah’s sermon. “How are you with forgiveness?”
10
“ T his means nothing .” I hold the camera in my hands and model it for a still tied-up Ben. “It’s basically worthless.” I throw it against the wall with a nod of approval from Noah. It breaks on impact, sending pieces of plastic and metal scurrying across the floor. I pop onto my knees and hover in front of Ben. “So, Benjamin, where do you think that leaves your fate?”
He attempts to speak, but the gag turns his words into mere muffles.
“I don’t understand what he’s saying.” Noah shifts against the wall and bites into his thumb. “Maybe you should take the gag off.”
“Good idea.” I grab the ball of fabric and pull it out of Ben’s mouth. He takes a long, deep breath but looks too scared to talk. “What’s the matter, Ben?”
“You’re both crazy,” he says quietly. He’s beyond exhausted. “What are you going to do? Kill me?”
I rise to my feet. “Isn’t that what you deserve?”
“Fuck you.”
Phase two starts now. I give him a crooked smirk before punching him as hard as I can in the face—much harder than I had punched Noah earlier. His head spins in circles and I throw another punch, landing at the exact same spot as the first. My knuckles ache so I can only imagine his pain. “You want to say something else?”
He looks around the room, his swollen eyes struggling to stay open. “No,” he says weakly and spits on the floor.
“How about a confession?” I ask, but he’s done talking. He shuts his eyes and leans his head back. “Come on, Ben. There are no cameras here. I just need to hear you say it.”
He cackles wildly. “Why? Do you think it will bring him back?”
“Come on, give me something,” I beg, breaking the badass routine I’ve been carrying since we came back into the room. “Anything.”
“How about my cock?”
I back up as I scoff. The nerve is staggering.
“C’mon,” he continues. “You’re just another whore.”
“I’d rather be a whore than a murderer.” I rush to him again, this time throwing my body against his and knocking the chair to the floor. His head slams against the tile and he grunts in pain. “Let me repeat myself. Do you have anything you want to say?”
“No…”
I draw my foot back and kick him in the stomach. He yells out again and pushes back against the chair hard enough that the chair slides across the floor. I go to kick him again, but
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