Kissing the Killer(8)

By: B. B. Hamel

“I don’t fucking plan on it,” I said, angry.

“Good.” He turned and moved away. “Show up here tomorrow night around ten.”

“See you then.”

I turned and left, not able to stomach another second in there.

I knew there were going to be problems, lots of problems. But Dante seemed suspicious already, all because Abram was a clueless fuck that had to go running his mouth.

And now I was stuck working security for one of the vilest things the mob did. It wasn’t like I didn’t have the stomach for it, since my job was to kill people for a living. I’d just seen too many women abused in my life, left behind and destroyed, and that was the only thing I truly despised.

I slept around, sure. I got my fair share of fucking pussy. But I didn’t beat them, kill them, or rape them. Now though, to save the life of the girl in the closet, I was going to have to put myself in the position to potentially hurt more women.

And I couldn’t get out of it, not with Dante so suspicious.

I got back into my car and started the engine. At the very least, I was going to keep this girl back home alive if it was the last thing I did.

I drove off, not sure what I was going to do from here.



I was in that closet for an hour before I finally heard the apartment door open. I slowly stood up, weakness, exhaustion, and anger all warring inside me.

I heard footsteps come toward me. “You awake?” he asked.

I didn’t answer. I just got myself ready.

“Hey,” he said, “listen to me. Are you awake?”

My whole body felt tensed.

“Shit,” he said, and I heard him unlock the door.

He opened it up, and I threw myself at him.

It was like running right into a brick wall. He grabbed my wrists, holding them back as I tried to punch and kick him.

“Fuck, girl,” he grunted, pushing me over toward a couch. “Stop it, god damn it.”

“Fuck you,” I yelled and kept struggling.

He was strong, so damn strong, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to be his fucking toy to play with. He wasn’t going to use me up and then throw me aside when he was done with me.

He dragged me over to the couch and then pressed me down onto it, pinning me down with his overwhelming size and strength. I kept struggling, trying to get away, but he just grinned at me and held me there.

Finally, I felt myself getting tired. I wanted to fight more, but it was no use. He was just too strong and could hold me down so easily.

“You done?” he asked as I slowly gave up.

“Fuck you,” I said, looking into his deep green eyes.

He couldn’t help but smirk at me. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, girl?”

“Never. You’ll never have me.”

He laughed. “Fine by me.”


“I’m not going to force you into anything,” he said. “Do you understand me? I’m not here to do anything you don’t want.”

“Then why the fuck did you take me?”

He stared at me for a second, like he was seriously considering the question.

“If I let you go, are you going to come at me again?”

I frowned. “Probably.”

“Look, I don’t feel like doing this all night. How about this. We’ll talk, you won’t try to scratch out my fucking eyes, and if you don’t like what I have to say, then I’ll let you walk.”

I blinked at him. “You’ll let me leave?”

“You’re not going to want to, but I will.”

“Fine. Let me go and open that door.”

He moved back, releasing me.

“First, what’s your name?”

I sat up, rubbing my wrists. “Emma.”

“Emma, I’m Brooks.”

“Talk fast, Brooks. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a murderer and a kidnapper.”

He clenched his jaw. “Did you want to die back there?”


“Okay. The only way for me to save you once my partner saw you was to bring you home like this.”

“Should I thank you?”

“Maybe,” he said, smirking, “but I’m guessing you won’t.”

“No, Brooks, I won’t. I’ve been around men like you my whole life. You only want one thing from me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“You want to take from me. Whether that’s money or my body or whatever, you want to take it.”

I watched his expressive eyes take me in slowly, raking down along my skin. I felt exposed sitting there in nothing but my panties and my T-shirt, but I wasn’t giving in.

“If I get you clothes, are you going to run?”

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