What Lies Beneath The Flowerbed

by D. M. Thornton

  He shakes his head along the floor, disagreeing with everything that I’m saying. “Kink? What-what do you mean kink?” he stammers.

  “You didn’t put into consideration the friends of the girl you wanted to murder, well, only me actually, might be a serial killer.” I waggle my brows at him.

  Gasping for breath, his “Wh-wha-what,” comes out in short puffs of air.

  The corner of my mouth curls up as I hold out my hand to Andi. She gives me a pair of gloves and waits for me to put them on before she slips the scalpel into my palm and hisses at Jesse before standing guard over his sleeping brother.

  “Wha-what are you gonna do?” he asks.

  I spin the scalpel in my hand, showing it off. “With this? Oh, well, I have this fascination with Egyptian mummification. Are you familiar with it?”

  His head nods slowly.

  “Well, it’s your lucky day, because you get to be dressed up as a mummy and it’s not even Halloween. How special is that?” Okay, so I’m being a wee bit haughty, but he deserves it. Hell, you don’t get chained to my floor with a scalpel at your side by being a gem. It’s not like I’m going to be batting my eyes and giving him flirty glances. Fuck that shit.

  “What the hell are you talkin’—”

  Before he can finish his thought, I jab the blade into his side and slice him open. It never gets old, the screaming and wailing for mercy. The cries get my blood pumping to the point of arousal. Yeah, I realize how demented that sounds, as the rest of the world gets off by cocks and pussies, but not for me. No, buddy, the pleads of grown men whose blood spurts from their bodies all over my hands make me want to scream out in ecstasy. But what drives it home is when I finally get to dive my hands through the slit in their skin. Even with the gloves on, I can still feel the warmth of Jesse’s blood. It’s a beautiful feeling, like smooth, thick silk. The hint of metal fills my nose and coats the back of my throat, making it seem as if I just drank a goblet of Jesse’s blood.

  The deeper my hands go into Jesse’s side, the louder he screams. It’s getting rather annoying. On top of screeching like a dying pig, he’s thrashing about like a fish out of water. “You know, making that hideous noise will not save you. No one can hear you out here. If you don’t shut up, Andi will be more than happy to cut out your tongue.”

  What can I say, my efforts are wasted, the words dissipating into thin air. Jesse still screams and flops about, which really just pisses me off until I’ve had enough. Why can’t I ever have any fun? Not one of these assholes let me enjoy what brings me peace. Nope, they have to act like big ol’ babies and because I’m sensitive to noise, the piercing sound of their yowls ignites an anger like none other. There’s only one way to make the God awful noise stop.

  I grab hold of his intestines and watch his stomach bulge every time my hand rotates inside his belly. After I have wrapped the organ around my fist, I yank my arm back in one fluid motion, dispensing his stomach lining of the muscular tubes, letting it slide the couple inches to the floor with a wet splat. Jesse sputters and spits, and his body begins to tremble like he’s being electrocuted. He’s going into shock.

  Most of the time, I don’t go back in to break off the ribs until after they’re dead, as I’m not always successful snapping them on my first try. But, sometimes, you can’t just leave well enough alone. I jab my hands back into Jesse’s wound and feel around until I touch the under part of his rib cage. When I have a good hold of his ribs, I clench my teeth and jerk my whole body back, falling on my butt with Jesse’s ribs in my hands. Andi guffaws from behind me, curling over at the waist and laughing until she has to excuse herself to the bathroom before she pees her pants.

  “Jeez Louise.” I roll my eyes. I wonder about these girls sometimes. Between Andi’s tinge of crazy and Jaz’s questionable thinking skills, these bitches are one hot mess. Ha! What does that say about me, hmm?

  I hang my head for a minute, realizing how truly exhausted I am. I wasn’t mentally prepared for a kill tonight, which is important if things are going to be done according to plan. But, I’m finding not much has been following my perfectly aligned stars lately.

  I’m tired. And I don’t want to do it anymore.

  So, I crawl to my knees, snatch the scalpel from the floor, and make a clean cut clear across Jesse’s throat. He had passed out a little bit ago, about the time his ribs were snapped off, but I’m mentally not able to torture this moron anymore. Which also means I won’t be having my fun with his brother either.

  I spin around on my knees and stare down on Dirk’s sleeping body. He’s quite handsome. It’s a shame really, a good-looking guy like this could really have gone somewhere, but nope, he’s just like the rest of ‘em. And now I have no other choice but to...

  Jaz bolts through the room just as I have the blade of the scalpel pressed against Dirk’s neck. “Wait!” She runs toward us and falls to her knees. “Don’t! Please don’t kill him.”

  I shake my head and roll my eyes...yet again. “Why the hell not?”

  “Because, he didn’t mean to—”

  “Did their sperm swim straight to your head and fertilize your brain with shit? You don’t have a say at the moment, Jaz. You lost that privilege when you allowed your labia lips to do the talkin’. Now, if you don’t want to watch, I suggest you march your royally fucked ass right on outta here, but it’s gettin’ done. And let me remind you, they almost killed you. Or did you already forget that? Not only have I broken my own cardinal rule of only one kill, but now I can’t even enjoy myself anymore.”

  Jaz isn’t moving, and I ain’t got all night, so I give her one last chance to walk away with a jut of my chin, but she ignores me and keeps her eyes fixated on the scalpel at Dirk’s throat. It’s the easiest slice in the world...like a knife through smooth butter. That simple cut with it’s even spread of red as the blade continues the path along the length of the neck is like a spark of color in my darkness.

  I watch as Jaz turns and walks away, her head loose on her slumped shoulders. It’s perfectly understandable for her to feel some connection with Jesse and Dirk. They gave her something that she has been craving for months, so naturally, the Oxytocin levels in her brain are through the roof. I won’t discount her feelings just because I don’t have any, but at this moment, I don’t really care that she’s pissed at me. She’s all I’ve got...her and Andi. I’ll do anything for them. Even if it means killing people that try to hurt them.

  Chapter 16

  Andi

  In my line of work, I see some crazy ass shit, and let’s be honest, I’m a shit storm of drama. Hell, I’m usually the one creating it, but damn, it went all gangsta up in here, and it wasn’t even me who started it. And now Gray and I are left burying these fucktards in the garden on our own because Sobby Ms. Sobberton stormed out of the compound all ‘cause Gray took care of the problem that Jaz, herself, created. Eh, I can’t blame the horny toad, but we all know one of the major rules is to never get attached. Oh well, she’ll get over it. After a few days, it will all blow over and Jaz will be refreshed and as good as new. Until then—dig, dig, dig.

  Gray’s slamming things around, banging the shovel on the ground and tossing dirt around like she’s a two year old in a sandbox. I’ve lost count how many times I’ve felt the spray of dirt hit the back of my head, and just as I turn around, I get a face full of earth. “Son of a bitch!” I shout. I scoop up a handful of the moist ground and chuck it at Gray, hitting her square in the chest with a thud.

  She glances down at her once white V-neck t-shirt that’s now splattered with mud. Gray swipes her hand down her shirt with a flick of her wrist and glares up at me. “What. The. Fuck?”

  “What the fuck? I should be asking you that question. What the hell is your problem?”

  “I don’t have a problem. What’s yours?” Gray hollers at me, slapping her hands together to clean them off.

  “You, that’s what. If you throw dirt at me one more time, I’ll bury you in this hole mysel
f.” I turn back around and continue to dig, but the back of my skull is smacked with a messy slop of mud. I stand still as the goop drips down the back of my head and lands at the base of my feet. Trying to keep myself calm is quite difficult, so I attempt a few deep breaths that come out more like a bull ready to strike. I drop my shovel—the last thing I want to do is attack Gray with it, though knocking her out would be kinda fun. Without notice, I spin on my toes and sprint forward, lunging for Gray’s shins.

  We collapse to the ground with loud grunts and begin to roll around like two pigs in slop. “Get the fuck off me!” Gray screams, slapping at me.

  I start laughing at our poor excuse for a bitch fight, but then Gray grabs my long hair, wraps it around her fist, and yanks until I roll off her. I only manage to claw my fingernails across her cheek as I fall off her lap...not enough damage in my opinion, but she’s on her feet and storming toward the house before I can attack her again.

  Okay, I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt and let her blow off some steam...alone. It’s apparent that this thing with Jaz has her really upset. To tell ya the truth, I’m happy to see her express her anger...her sadness. It’s good for her, and she needs to do it more often. I grab the extra large black trash bags that contain the parts of our friends from South Dakota and toss them into the hole, then begin covering it up with the dirt that has been pushed up into heaping mounds.

  I make it inside as Gray is packing up her room. She’s gone from throwing dirt to throwing her metal tray and tools. “You wanna talk about it?” I ask as I walk in, propping myself up against the door.

  She doesn’t look at me, just continues to clean up her space in a haphazard manner, which is so not in her character. “No,” she snaps.

  “You did the right thing, Gray. We had no choice, they tried killing Jaz. Don’t beat yourself up over it,” I assure her.

  She spins, flopping back on the lip of the counter with a puff of air from her bottom lip, causing her bangs to blow up then back down. “At this moment, it doesn’t seem like I did. I mean, I know deep down it had to be done, but at Jaz’s expense?”

  “Yes,” I bark. “Definitely at her expense. Had you let those fuckers go, they would’ve just found some other hussy to strangle. Jaz will get over it.”

  “I hope...” Gray begins, but her voice is cut off by her ringing cellphone. She holds up her finger to me, grabs the phone from behind her, and holds it up to her ear. “Hello?” There are a lot of uh-huhs and okay fines and oh all right to this one-sided conversation, and when Gray hangs up, she waves her hand that’s holding her phone in the air and growls. “God, can this night get any worse?” Tossing her phone on the counter, she moves quickly but efficiently as she puts all of her equipment away in their appropriate spaces.

  I watch her quizzically, waiting for her to finish and to clue me in on what’s happening, but when she’s done, she grabs her purse from the cabinet and bolts from her room. Of course I follow, yelling as I chase after her. “Where are you going?”

  “That was the station, Blue was picked up.” Her hand is on the knob when she looks back over her shoulder. “Thanks for your help, Andi, and I’m sorry about the whole flingin’ dirt business.”

  I shake my head, brushing it off. “It’s no biggie. Do you want me to go with you? I can be a good distraction. I can show off my cleavage and shake my ass while you break Blue out. Whaddya say?” Truth be told, I’d love to meet her brother. As long as I’ve known Gray, I have yet to meet the one family member she has left.

  There’s nothing I’d love to do more than to sashay into the police station and shake my goodies in front of all the sexy cops. I’ve been known to get out of a ticket a time or two by waggling my brows and pulling my shirt down enough to enhance the plumpness of my boobies. What can I say...men love me. And men in uniform are no different. If they have a cock, it salutes in my direction.

  Gray’s hand falls from the knob and she walks over to me, wrapping her arms around my neck in a hug. “You’re the best, but I got it. Call you tomorrow.”

  My shoulders lift in a shrug. “Okay.”

  She steps back from me with a sheepish grin, but then her eyes droop and she sighs. “Shit. I need to finish outside.”

  “Go,” I say. “I’ve got it all under control. I know exactly what to do, you’ve taught me well, master.”

  She stares back at me, anxiety seeping from her pores. “Um, no. I’ll do it.”

  “Good Lord.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t you trust me?” By the way her eyeballs are jittering in their sockets, I’m taking that as a hellz nah. “Dammit, Gray, I can do it. I swear.”

  Gray takes a few deep, ragged breaths before she points a finger in my face and sternly says, “Don’t fuck it up, Andi. Don’t make me regret letting you finish clean up. ”

  I push her out the door with a, “Get the fuck outta here,” then wave her off, locking the door behind her. Now all I have to do is remember everything Gray would do...in order...and do it right. If I slip up even a minuscule amount, Gray will notice and will have my head on a stake, displayed in the garden for the crows to come and peck at my eyeballs.

  Chapter 17

  Gray

  For cryin’ out loud, the last thing I need is to be traipsing around the police station in search of my idiot brother. I ran, rather was pushed, out of the house so fast I forgot to change my shirt and clean up my face. Thankfully, I always keep an extra jacket in the car...you never know how the Kansas weather is going to be. One minute it’s beautiful, then the next thing you know, your ass is freezing. I take a few swipes of my face with my fingertips, then zip up the jacket as I approach the front counter, where I’m greeted with an odd glare from the old hag who’s sitting behind the desk. “Can I help you?” she asks dryly.

  “I got a phone call saying my brother, Blue Knight, is here.” I furrow my brows, following the woman’s eyes that roam from my chest to my face then back to my chest. I glance down at my jacket and jerk the zipper up so that it’s completely covering my soiled t-shirt. I curse under my breath, “Shit.”

  Why the fuck did I not look in the goddamn mirror? I’m off my game tonight.

  The woman takes a break from staring at me and redirects her eyes to her computer screen. Her fingers dance quickly across the keys before she throws a clipboard at me, then waves her hand out to the side. “Fill this out then go down the hall, turn left, and he’ll be in the second holding room.”

  I hastily jot my information on the paperwork in front of me, then slam the pen down on top of the clipboard. “Thanks.” I take off toward the hall, too busy trying to wipe any residual dirt from my face, when I run smack dab into a broad chest. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” I step back, dragging my eyes up the torso in front of me to the soft baby blue eyes of my nemesis. Jett Roman. “You.” Okay, I didn’t mean for that to come out so accusing, but I’m a little in shock. Not that I should be, he does work for the police department, but he’s the last person I want to see right now.

  He sounds more pleasant when he repeats, “You.” He gives me a crooked once-over, much like the woman at the front counter. Confused yet curious.

  I cover my jacket with my large purse, trying to put up a protective shield over myself. I’m hoping that it hides any evidence that might still be lingering of my brutal attack on two men, where I cut them up in tiny little pieces and buried them in my backyard. Jesus, I can’t believe I did the unthinkable...I changed up my routine.

  Fuck me, I’m screwed.

  Honest to God, I don’t know what has gotten into me, but I better get my shit together. The last thing I need is for this fucker to keep eyeballing me like he’s doing right now.

  “What?” I ask. His beady eyes are starting to freak me the fuck out. Okay, in all honesty, they make me want to swoon and toss my panties at him. Shitballs, he’s so hot it physically hurts to look at him.

  His hand comes at my face and I duck, raising my hand to block. “Whoa there, pony, was only t
ryin’ to wipe something off your face. What is that? Dirt?”

  Oh God. And here I thought tonight wouldn’t get any worse. I might as well have a neon sign across my forehead that reads, MURDERER. Reluctantly, I lower my hand, which apparently signals an invitation for Jett to resume dusting my face off with the pad of his thumb. I’d love to swat him away, but I remind myself that I’m blending in...aka, being friendly.

  “So, you gushin’ over me again?” he asks with a chuckle. He takes my chin with his thumb and index finger and turns my head to the side. “What the fuck happened?”

  It takes me a second before I realize he’s asking about the scratches from Andi’s fingernails. Which reminds me how I never cleaned the claw marks, and how I’m probably going to get some cat scratch fever because I didn’t properly sanitize my face.

  Ick.

  “Gardening.”

  “Gardening?” His voice drops as if he’s about to interrogate me.

  “Yep, gardening. And I’m not here to gush. I’m here because I got a call that my brother was picked up.” I’m pretty good with redirecting conversations, but they don’t typically happen with a cop who won’t leave well enough alone.

  “Who gardens at two in the morning?” he pushes.

  Son of a bitch. Play it cool, Gray. Kill him with kindness.

  “I suffer from insomnia, so yeah, I garden at all hours of the day and night. It’s my form of counting sheep. It relaxes me. Anyway, I’m trying to find my brother.”

  “What’s his name?”

  Ah fuck me, not the name.

  I shake my head in hopes that I can brush the question away, but he’s not budging. “Blue,” I mumble under my breath.

  Jett’s eyes widen as he dips his head closer to my face. “Come again?”

  I groan inwardly. “Blue,” I say louder.

  “Blue,” he repeats.

  OMG, am I a broken fuckin’ record?

  “Yes, Blue. I was told he’s in the second holding room on the left. I’m just gonna...” I try to squeeze by Jett, but he stands firm. “Excuse me.”