Primal Pursuit

“No, you’re not. You’re my prey. Get in the fucking shower.”

Suddenly, she’s angry again, like she purged the lust, and all that’s left is resentment over the fact that she liked the dark and rough sex with a man she hates.

As much as I love our fucking game, I’m not in the mood for emotional see-sawing.

“Do whatever you fucking want, Rabbit. Guess you’renot the prey I was looking for.” I drop her gun to the floor. “This bores me.”

“You’re a low-down bastard.”

“Because I gave you what you wanted? As I said, I’m fucking bored and this is done.”

She picks up the gun and starts to lift it to me.

I pull my hand through my hair. “It’s not loaded, Rabbit.”

The disappointment on her face doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I’ll need my coat since you ruined my outfit.”

Leaving her, I go and collect her shoes, socks, and coat. The bag. I don’t return the lipstick. It’s my little trophy for now.

Before I head up, I shove some cash into her bag. For the clothes.

She’s still standing where I left her when I go back up upstairs, throw tightly around her.

I hand over her bag and coat, and she stares at me, ice and walls everywhere. “I’d like some privacy while I get dressed. Please.”

“You almost killed me while I was buried balls deep in your cunt, and now you’re shy? Such a contradiction, aren’t you, Rabbit? “

“You have no idea,” she says.

Oh, I do.

I lean in to brush my lips on her cheek, to see her reaction, but she veers away like I’m poison. And that refusal ignites the flames all over again, not that they were out, but it brings them back to full force.

“I think, feisty Rabbit, I’ll reconsider my boredom.Maybe I’ll call.” I give her a wave, walk to the stairs, and pause. “The door locks when you leave.”

With that, without a backward look, I walk out of the warehouse loft, and the building, and down to my car.

There’s nothing in there, nothing of me, nothing of anyone. It’s an impersonal place, so she can stay and rip it apart.

I sit in my car and tap my fingers on the wheel, figuring out my next move.

God, the universe has a real fucking sense of humor.

My first kill. What a way to have it return full force. It’s something you don’t forget, the first time you spill blood.

She wasn’t supposed to be there. But it was all over Kelly Jane’s face. Harry’s, too.

It’s the only fucking job I didn’t clean up properly by eliminating the fucking witness who hid in the closet.

A case could be argued that I was new, first kill and all. Bullshit. Let’s just say I have an aptitude for killing.

Except for one little girl.

Maybe it was those big blues that flashed when she gasped. She’d been pressed right up against the slats on the door. I saw those eyes in the mirror.

Then I left.