Body Tox (The Bodies duet #1)

Chapter 6

I didn’t remember when I woke up, but when I did, Cali had already left—that was okay. My best friend—low-key girlfriend, and I had a mutual agreement that worked well enough for both of us. We fucked when we wanted to, but no one owned the other.

I stretched out on my mattress, and my body felt nice and used.

Slinging my feet off the bed, I sauntered over to the vanity, my jewelry box perched so beautifully waiting for me. I grabbed the mask, the material, and all my trophies collected over the years and got to work, finishing the last row of stitches for the newest addition.

When I completed the knot to bind the thread, I shot a text to Cali, making sure she got home all right. I didn’t know what time it was, but I always felt sleepy after a nice ‘sexorcism.’ aka sex-exorcism.

My phone pinged from Cali’s reply. Usually, she was a hell of a lot more flowery with her words, but tonight, her response was a simple ‘Yep.’ I frowned, irritated at how simple the text was. It was her way of saying, ‘Fuck you.’ I’d fucked her so well, so I didn’t know why she was acting pissy.

Something felt off, so I sent her another message.

Me: Hey, is Didi keeping you warm, Cali babe?

Didi was the stuffed bear Cali would never admit was still on her bed. It took a few minutes for another message to come through.

Cali: Yep.

I threw my phone, irritated about being blown off.

Fine. If she wanted to ignore me, I would focus on something else. Her dad was probably on her ass about getting the job at the clinic. Lately, that was why Cali was wound so tight and not in a fun way.

I pushed myself off the bed and walked over to the kiln, grabbing the clay on the table and sitting at my personalized pottery station.

Searching for some inspiration, a mirage of images flitted through my head and landed on the annoying ass man at Palazzo’s. His beauty was dark and inviting. His outfit was exactly what I’d expect from someone with that type of alluring danger.

There was something about him that I couldn’t shake from my head—a mystery—an invitation that beckoned me to explore the darkness in his eyes and calculating smile.

“Fuck you, asshole,” I said to the intricate design I was molding under my hands, capturing that mystery in the man’s eyes with the twists and binds.

I imagined the asshole underneath me, sliding his fingers along my body the way mine did to create my art. He’d handled that iris flower with an intricate, subtlety—gentle yet concealed dominance hidden within those tattooed fingers.

Would he touch me like that flower?

Why did I want him to?

I finished the design, staring at the vase with anger. Every twist and loop of the clay made me feel anger…and intrigue.

Rolling my eyes, I washed up my hands and placed the artwork in the kiln to dry.

I needed to kill. I was too on edge, and nearly drowning that mermaid just made the itch even more intense.

I slid open the hidden compartment of my jewelry box and lifted my dagger free.

I gripped my golden curved blade in my hand, the end loop feeling familiar, and the sharp edges bit into my skin as they curved around my palm.

I pulled my hood over my head, fit my mask to my face, and wrapped myself in my black outfit. Head-to-toe shadow, I didn’t want anyone to see any part of me. My snow-white hair contrasted with the leather, but whenever I snagged one of my prey, it didn’t usually matter if they saw my hair. By that time, it was too late.

A few hours later, I’d found my target. I’d followed this guy for a few hours now. He was bar hopping, groping women, and getting slapped by the husbands of the groped victims. He was a perfect mark. A scruffy guy blocked my view of my target, grinning at me like a creep and leaning forward over me.

“Well, hello there, white-haired goddess. I’m not worthy.”

I purposefully sneered at the asshole and then dodged him, trying to look around him to keep tabs on where my mark was. The guy laughed, bobbing in my vision and waving his arm in my face.

He finally wandered off, and my eyes were eagle locked onto the bald moron chortling and telling his war stories to uncaring females on the dance floor.

I yawned, my ass hurting from the spot I had been sitting in at the bar for well over an hour. I was feeling the effects of the stupid liquor I had been slowly drinking to keep up appearances, as well.

A drunk hunter. What a great combo.

“Want another, Doll?” the bartender said, and I shook my head.

Finally, my mark staggered over to my spot and stopped to look me over, his beady eyes and bald head shining.

“Well, hey there,” he said, surprise and lust radiating from him.

He smelled like cheap booze and a combination of different perfumes. I guessed that the amount of women he’d been grinding on had rubbed off on him. A hint of puke and some fast food lingered on his breath as he got closer. He reached for my shoulder, giving it a possessive squeeze.

I pursed my lips together, trying not to grimace.

“Hi there, big boy,” I responded, personifying my inner porn star voice.

The man puffed up like a peacock and smirked at me, moving his hand lower to rest it on my boob.

“What’s your name?”

I ran through random names in my head and landed on ‘Emma.’

“Wanna get out of here, darling?”

I smiled genuinely. The knowledge that this asshole was about to feel my blade was so potent that I could taste it.

Standing up next to the barstool, I nodded my head. I was a bit lightheaded and feeling that buzz just below the surface, like a warm hum reminding me I was an idiot for drinking.

He took my hand, and we staggered around outside the bar and into the alley.

It didn’t take him that long to try to slam me against the wall and eat my face. I pushed away my gag reflex, allowing the affection until he started pushing at my tight black tights.

“No. Not yet. Let’s get somewhere more private,” I offered, shoving his grubby hand away.

He lowered his gaze and smiled, gripping my hips and pushing me back onto the concrete wall harder.

“A whore has privacy requests? That was rich. You were practically begging me to fuck you in that bar, and now you want to be a tease?”

His hand reared back and struck me, making my cheek burn. The liquor and the jarring blow to my face had me feeling dizzier. I couldn’t track the man’s hands right. Things were moving in slow motion, and my vision had a few seconds lag, creating a double illusion of everything happening.

The street lamp was flickering, and the sounds of trash bins and coughing homeless people were the only things around besides his moans.

I thought back to the alcohol I was drinking. It wasn’t that much, and there was no way it would affect me like this. I shook my head, the asshole still tugging on my clothes and knocking me around.

Was I drugged?

I felt a cloud over my head, my vision blurring even more, and black spots forming.

“Oh, why thank you to whoever did my job for me. You look like you’re already ready for lights out. Don’t worry, baby. It will hurt.”

I blindly swung my fist around, trying to find contact with his face. But every time I swung my fist, my brain didn’t compute with my hand. It was just laying uselessly there like a doll to be used.

My useless fucking body.

“Work…please…c’mon,” I mumbled, fighting with my senses that were completely shutting down.

I couldn’t help but think about my mother. How her body was helpless to defend herself, how they defiled and ruined her body before ripping her apart…would this be my fate as well?

“No…” I said.

My voice was barely a whisper, hidden behind the obscene moans from…the guy. His pleasure increased as he finally got through my pants.

“No,” I said again, but my voice was gone, the darkness completely swallowing me, leaving me helpless to my prey…no, I wasn’t the hunter now.

I had become the prey.