CHAPTER ON E
REAPER
They never get away from me, only her. One might think she’s smarter than the rest, since she escaped. Her one mistake was leaving her purse behind when she ran for her life, because now I know who she is and where she lives.
Arabella Riley.
Birthdate: May 21, 2005.
Address: 1624 Ninth Street, Apartment B4.
She made this so easy, and it makes me want to punish her. What if some other man had found this? Did she not consider how much danger she could be in?
I chuckle to myself because, of course, she’s in a world of trouble once I get my hands on her.
They say the eyes are the window to the soul. It’s the reason I do the things I do. Every set of eyes look beautiful as life evaporates from them. Arabella is the first I’ve wanted to keep the eyes from. I’ve already researched how to preserve them.
To preserve eyeballs, or any other organ or specimen, in a wet jar method, inject it with formalin . You’ll want to inject quite a bit. Then place the injected specimen in a jar of the same solution of formalin for a few days or weeks. Even months, depending on the size of your specimens.
The problem for me is I don’t only want them for weeks or months. I want to keep them forever. I never want those pretty blue eyes to fade away. Sometimes plans need to change. If she cooperates, maybe I’ll let her live, so I can always have those pretty blues on me.
I sit in the club where she dances with her friends. Arabella dances as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. Hands in her long blonde hair, swaying those hips like she’s doing it just for me. Is she trying to taunt me?
Sweet, living dead girl. Tonight you will come face to face with the man that has become your greatest fear. You’ll make a choice. Be mine or die. Either I’ll get to see her eyes on me while I fuck her, or I’ll look into them and squeeze the life out of her delicate body.
She stands between two girls, both brunettes, but I barely notice them. My attention is completely focused on living dead girl. Arabella tosses back her third drink of the night. Big mistake. She is going to need all her wits to get through the night, and the alcohol isn’t going to help her. A man approaches her with a drink, and I’m done watching. I’m a Bonetti, and though I don’t currently work with the family, my name still carries weight. I can do nearly anything I want to in this club, with little interference, including dragging Arabella out by her gorgeous blonde head of hair. And the fucker coming on to my girl? His night is going to be short, along with his life. What did he do to deserve to die? Touching what’s mine is his crime. For that, he’ll pay with his life.
I weave through the crowd of drunk gyrating assholes, spilling more than one drink, as I approach the douchebag, but not giving a fuck. Her back is turned to me so she has no idea I’m here. Stopping behind the blonde guy with his hand on her shoulder, I growl, “Get your hands off my property.”
Arabella turns to the sound of my voice with a start, and instantly turns so pale she looks like a fucking ghost. A beautiful ghost. The fear in her eyes probably shouldn’t make my dick anywhere near as hard as it does. Her ocean blue gaze widens, as I swear she has a cartoon bubble over her head saying, ‘Run!’
I chuckle as I narrow my gaze at her. “Did you think I forgot about you, baby?”
The stupid man standing next to her glares at me, and asks her, “Do you want me to get rid of him? ”
I laugh obnoxiously, because I’d really fucking like to see him try.
I grab his throat and squeeze hard, knowing he’s freaking out because he can’t breathe.
“This is how this is going to go. You’re both coming with me, or I’ll kill you right here, in front of God and everybody. The hundreds of witnesses won’t deter me, because every cop in this fucking city is owned by my family.”
My brother, Bones, is the head of the family, and killing two people with so many witnesses will definitely result in a lecture. However, he’d have my back the same way I’d have his. They glance at each other, and Arabella nods at her friend and says, “He isn’t kidding. Do what he says.”
I release blondie’s throat, and order him to walk toward the back door and follow, watching them both closely. Living dead girl more than him, because fuck me, she’s gorgeous. The only thing about her more stunning than her eyes, is that ass, that moves the exact right amount when she walks.
After opening the front door to my truck, I point for her to get inside before handcuffing her hand to the ‘oh shit’ handle, because I already know she’s likely to run if she gets the opportunity. I push blondie into the back seat, zip-tie his hands behind his back, as well as around his ankles, and seatbelt him in, because safety is important.
I chuckle to myself after I close their doors, and make it to the driver’s side and climb in. Arabella speaks as soon as I pull away. I love her voice, so soft and sweet, but she clearly thinks I’m an idiot. I know the part where you’re supposed to humanize yourself with your would-be killer.
“My name is Arabella. I don’t think we properly introduced ourselves before. I’m twenty-one. I work in a coffee shop, and I’m in college.”
I turn out of the parking lot as she continues, “I’m young. I want to live. I’ll do whatever you say. ”
Smirking at her, I say, “I knew all of that already, living dead girl.”
She shifts uncomfortably in her seat with her arm stretched in the air. “What’s your name?”
I glance in the mirror occasionally, watching to make sure blondie doesn’t surprise me. It’s hard with all four of your limbs restrained, but I’ve seen stranger things. His eyes are wide with terror, as he stares out the window like there’s a way out. There isn’t. Tonight he dies.
“They call me Reaper.”
Arabella raises her eyebrow and asks, “What’s your real name?”
I make a left turn, while I consider whether or not I should tell her. She isn’t leaving alive, so it doesn’t matter, especially because what will she do? Go to the police?
“Nico.”
“Nico,” she repeats, like she’s trying my name out on her tongue, and I don’t hate it. Somehow, I think any word coming out of her mouth would be sexy as hell. I make a mental note to make her beg. Fuck, I should put a metal collar around her slender neck, and walk her on a fucking leash. I’ve never done that before, but she makes me want to.
“Nico, please don’t kill me.”
I glare at her as I pull into the parking lot for the lake, in the middle of nowhere. That’s why we’re here, because I knew no one would be here at this time.
After putting the truck in park, I open my door, and whistle as I walk to her door and open it. Her blue eyes, filled with fear, stare at me and fuck, I’ve missed it. Rubbing my thumb over her bottom lip, I groan because she drives me crazy.
“Are you going to cry for him when he dies?”
“No,” she whispers.
I take in all her features as I ask her, “Will you beg for me to spare his life? ”
She shakes her head lightly. “I will only beg for mine.”
Stroking my fingers down her cheek, I tell her, “If you want to prolong your life, you’ll keep your eyes on mine while I extinguish his life.”
This will be the first time I’ve ever not looked into someone’s eyes while killing them, but I can’t help myself. I only want to look at her.
I push her seat back, and grab her hips and rotate her, so she’s able to see into the backseat. This is a test. A big fucking test. I’m about to see what my living dead girl is made of. If she screams and cries, then I know to kill her soon. If she shows me she’s stronger than she appears, I might keep her a bit longer.