by B. B. Hamel
“I’m sorry,” she says finally.
“It’s okay,” I say, sighing. “It’s not your fault. You weren’t ready.”
“I thought I was. I just didn’t want to lose him.”
“I should have sent you for the van. I should have taken more time to get you prepared. Hell, I should have done this alone.”
She frowns and stares at the road. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop. It’s my fault.” I climb up into the passenger seat. Sheer lolls to the side then falls with a thump as we hit a pothole.
I reach out and take her hand. She doesn’t look at me, but she squeezes my fingers.
That went about as fucked up and wrong as it possibly could have. But we have him. The pedophile fuck is going to die now, no matter what, and we know the location of the warehouse. I can’t be sure why he left so quickly, but I’m almost certain that’s the place. Fortunately, once we get back to my property, Mark and I can have a little chat.
And I’m sure he’ll tell me everything I want to know.
18
Amelia
I’m so angry with myself when we finally make it back to Noah’s place. He tries his best to downplay what happened but I can tell I really screwed up.
I wasn’t thinking. I saw Sheer leave the warehouse and start walking down the street, and I panicked. I thought maybe I should just walk away and we could go after him another time, but then my feet were moving and I was following him. I couldn’t turn away even when I wanted to.
And then he turned to look over his shoulder. He looked right at me and I swear our eyes met for half a second. That was when he took off, running down the alley.
I ran after him. It was stupid and I should have just let him go, but I ran after him. I found him backed against the wall, terror clear on his face.
“What do you want from me?” he screamed. “Why are you following me? Help! Help me!” He wouldn’t stop yelling, screaming, shouting.
There was a brick on the ground. I didn’t think about that, either. I just picked it up and slammed it down against his head.
It was easier than I thought it would be. I stood there with the brick in my hand for a minute, staring at Sheer’s unmoving body on the ground, blood on the brick and on his scalp. I dropped it onto the ground, grabbed his umbrella, and started to walk away.
It terrified me how easy it was to hit him. It took almost no effort and he barely defended himself. It was just so easy to slam it down onto his skull.
Hell, it felt good to smash him. That asshole. That pedophile bastard.
But I screwed up. I should have waited for Noah to come back. I just lost myself in the moment and wasn’t thinking clearly.
We park the van outside of the barn. He throws open the side door and grabs Sheer, dragging him out of the back. “Go open the trap door,” he says to me.
I walk ahead and stomp on the floorboard he showed me a day ago. The door opens and Noah drags Sheer from the van, into the barn, and down the steps.
I follow him down. Noah manages to get Sheer into the center of the room and together we hoist him up onto the metal surgical gurney.
“Shut the door,” he says. I hurry up the steps and pull the door shut. When I come back, Noah is checking the wound on Mark’s head.
“Not too bad,” he says. “He’ll live.”
“We don’t want him to live,” I say.
“We don’t,” he agrees. “But we want to talk to him first.” Noah presses a bandage against the wound then gets a needle and thread.
For the next ten minutes, Noah tends to Sheer’s wound. He cleans it then sews it shut with a needle and thread. It looks like he’s done it before, but I don’t want to ask him about it. I stay seated in the corner, watching his movements, all precise and perfect. He takes some straps and secures them around Sheer’s legs, chest, and arms. Finally, he secures Sheer’s head with one last strap.
When he’s finished, he gets a syringe from a drawer and presses it into Sheer’s neck. When he finishes plunging it down, Sheer suddenly takes a gasping breath and opens his eyes.
“Mr. Sheer,” Noah says calmly. “Welcome.”
Sheer tries to move, but the straps are tied tightly. His struggles only make the table rattle slightly.
“Where am I?” he asks. “What are you doing?” His eyes roll around in his head as he takes in the room.
“You’re nowhere,” Noah says calmly.
“You. You’re the one that followed me.” His eyes go wide. “You took me. You hit me.”
Noah smiles. “She hit you. But close enough.”
Sheer’s eyes find me and I stare at him, excitement pulsing through me. This man is a monster, one of the worst humans in the world. He hurts children, innocent children, for his own sexual pleasure. He’s a disgusting beast.
“What do you want from me?” Sheer asks Noah.
“Information.”
“What? I’ll tell you anything.”
“That place. The warehouse. What was it?”
Sheer opens his mouth then shuts it. I can tell he’s conflicted.
“Don’t make this hard on yourself, Mr. Sheer,” Noah says. “I can find all of this out on my own. It will just make me more . . . sympathetic toward you.”
Sheer groans. “I can’t. They’ll . . . they’ll kill me.”
Noah smiles and leans forward. “So will I. Now speak.”
Sheer groans again. “They bring them over from, I don’t know, Russia, I guess. I don’t ask questions.”
“Who are they?”
“It’s a woman. That’s the only person I ever see.”
“What’s her name?” I ask.
“Madame Green. Please, that’s all I know.”
“This place. They have girls?”
“Yes,” Sheer is sweating, fear clear on his face.
“Boys?”
“Yes,” he whispers.
“Which do you prefer?” Noah asks, his lips close to Sheer’s ear.
“Please,” he says softly. “Please don’t.”
“Tell me.”
“Girls.” Sheer closes his eyes.
“How old?”
“Under ten.”
Noah straightens up and steps away from Sheer. He looks over at me and I can barely think as I stare at Sheer. “Amelia,” he says.
I look up at Noah. “Yes?”
“Come here.”
I stand up and walk to him, almost as if in a dream. Sheer is crying, sobbing, his eyes shut. Noah smiles at me and wraps his arms around me, pulling me against him.
“You heard that, right?” he asks softly.
“Yes. He’s a monster.”
Noah nods and kisses my lips softly. “Here,” he says. He takes me over to the workbench, picks up a large, sharp knife, and hands it to me.
“What?” I stare at the knife.
“I want you to do it, Amelia.”
Sheer’s sobs get louder, and he starts to plead for his life, but I can’t hear him. I stare at the knife and then back to Noah as the implications sink in.
“I . . . I can’t,” I say slowly.
“You can. And you will. This man hurts people, fucking children, Amelia. Children.”
I stare at the knife again, my head cocked to one side. Noah is right. Sheer doesn’t deserve to survive a single second longer. He’s a monster, a disgusting pig, but I’ve never killed before. I’ve never done it. I don’t know if I can.
“It’s easy,” Noah whispers in my ear. “It’s the easiest thing you’ll ever do.”
In a daze, I walk over to Sheer, guided by Noah. The pedophile struggles on the table, but he can’t move an inch. I’m deaf to his cries and his struggles, and the only thing I’m aware of is Noah and the knife, heavy in my hands.
“Like this,” Noah whispers. He helps me grasp the knife, point-down, between my two hands. “Drive it into his heart.”
Noah steps back. I glance at him then I look back at Sheer.
My father stares back at me. My fath
er, the bastard, the rapist, the pig, the animal, the monster. My father stares at me with a drunken grin, strapped down to the table, and I know what I have to do.
My whole life has brought me to this moment. Everything I’ve done prepared me for this.
I’m ready. I know I’m ready.
I plunge the knife downward.
It pierces my father’s heart, Sheer’s heart. It slides through his chest and tears his heart to pieces. He coughs and groans as blood wells up around the blade.
I stare at Sheer’s face. His eyes are wet and wide as the life slowly drains from them. They lose their focus and then roll back into his skull.
It feels good. So fucking good.
I gasp and step back. Suddenly the realization of what I had just done rolls over me, and I’m dizzy, so dizzy. I stumble away and Noah’s arms wrap around me, pulling me against him.
I killed a man. I plunged a knife into his heart and watched the life drain from his body. That man was a monster and deserved it, but I’ve never killed before. Strange sensations flow through me, both good and bad.
But most of all, I felt satisfied. Like I just ate for the first time in a very, very long time.
“Good girl,” Noah whispers in my ear. “You did so good. So fucking good. I’m so proud of you.”
I look up at him. His face is serious but there’s a smile on his lips. He kisses me softly, and suddenly my hunger wells up again, stronger than before.
I press myself against him, needing it. I kiss him hard, running my hands through his hair before slowly moving them down to his belt. I unbuckle it in a frenzy and shove my hand down his briefs, finding his cock already hard.
I begin to stroke him, mad with need and lust. He kisses my neck as I stroke his hard cock and I know I’m soaking wet, I can feel it practically running down my leg. He groans in my ear and bites my lower lip.
“I knew this was what you needed,” he says. “You feel it, don’t you? You feel the satisfaction.”
“I feel it,” I moan. He pushes me back and undresses me, practically tearing off my clothing. He undresses himself when he’s finished and then presses me up against the cool concrete wall, his hand between my legs.
He’s like an animal as he slides his fingers inside of me. He pins me to the wall with his body and his free hand as he fucks my pussy, sliding it in and out. Barely ten feet away, the body of that pedophile fuck continues to bleed onto the ground, but all I can see is Noah.
He grunts and takes my hips, turning me around. He can’t wait, just like I can’t wait. He presses his cock against me and pushes himself deep inside of my pussy.
“Fuck,” I moan, dropping my head. He grabs my hair and fucks me deep and rough. “Come on,” I beg him. “Make it hurt.”
“Dirty fucking girl,” he says, slapping my ass. He pulls my hair harder, sending a shock of pain through my system, and then fucks me deep and hard. His thick cock stretches my pussy walls to the limit as he slams himself deeper inside of me.
“Fuck me,” I moan, rocking my hips back. “Come on, Noah.”
He grunts and rips into me like a man possessed. I can’t stop my moans from escaping my lips as we fuck, rutting like animals, our bodies rocking in sweating need.
He slaps my ass again and presses me against the wall. I’m totally pinned down, unable to move an inch as he fucks my pussy. I love it, love that he’s taking me, love the dark pleasure. I can’t help but scream his name as he slams into me.
“Come for me, you filthy fucking girl,” he grunts into my ear, pulling my hair back. “Come on this big fucking cock.” He reaches around my hips and finds my clit with his fingers.
I lose myself completely. Everything comes together into one enormous explosion inside of me. The killing, the fucking, Noah’s body against mine, it all drives me insane. I come harder than I ever have before and Noah continues fucking me, slamming deep into my pussy, rocking me to my very core.
I hear him groaning as he keeps thrusting up inside of me, and I know he’s coming deep into my pussy. The thought only intensifies my pleasure as my orgasm lingers, explosive and incredible.
We finish together in one panting mess. His orgasm passes and mine does too. We collapse onto the floor, propped up against the wall, and his arms wrap around me.
My head is dizzy and spinning but this time it’s from pure pleasure. I nuzzle up against his neck and he holds me tighter, kissing me softly on the lips.
“You did good,” he says. “You’re perfect.”
I smile and kiss him again. I can’t speak because there are no words for what I’m feeling.
We stay like that together, in perfect bliss, for a long time.
19
Noah
I never expected that to happen. I didn’t know what I was thinking would go down, but I never imagined that she would react that way to killing Sheer.
I feel the heat of the incinerator on my face as the pedophile’s body burns to ashes. Amelia is asleep inside still, and she has been for the last ten hours. It’s almost like she got this great release and then she needed to sleep and recover for a long time.
I can’t stop picturing her plunging that knife into Sheer’s heart. Her face was neutral, like she was just taking out the garbage or something, but as soon as the blood began to pour onto the floor her expression changed. She looked like she was in church having a deep religious experience. It was incredible to watch.
And then there was after, the way she kissed me, the way she felt as I fucked her. That was a perfect moment for me. My need was satisfied and then my other hunger was sated, my hunger for her.
When I started this years ago, I never pictured letting someone else take the kill for me. The moment that I finally end the life of some scumbag is one of the greatest pleasures of my life, and to let someone else take that from me is a huge deal. But I needed to do it, both for me and for her.
She needed to know what she was capable of. Now she’s aware of what’s inside of her, and hopefully I can help her harness it. But I also needed to see that I could trust her. Now that she’s killed with me, there’s no greater bond imaginable. I know she’ll never run and she’ll always be a part of my life in some way.
I stand and watch Sheer burn away as the sun slowly rises. I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, but I do know that I finally have a mission in life. I’m going to take down that whorehouse and I’m going to take care of Amelia. I don’t know how those two things work together, but I’m excited to find out.
I walk slowly back to the main house. I take off my boots in the mudroom and walk into the kitchen. I pause, surprised to see Amelia standing at the coffeemaker. She smiles as I come near her. She looks so fucking cute and gorgeous in just a pair of her panties and one of my white button-down shirts. It’s like something from a movie, although there’s so much darkness beneath the surface between us.
“Good morning,” I say.
“Good morning.” She yawns softly. “I can’t believe I slept so much.”
“We went to bed early.”
“I know. Still.”
“You did a hard thing yesterday.”
“I guess I did.” She trails off, looking at the coffeemaker. I can’t read her expression, but when she looks back at me, she’s smiling. “What’s the deal for today?”
“Well,” I say, taking her by the hips. “First things first.” I kiss her lightly on the lips then steer her over to the kitchen table. I gently sit her down then I remove the GPS tracking device from her ankle.
She laughs as soon as it’s gone. “What, I kill one guy and now you trust me?”
“Now I trust you,” I say simply. “You’re a part of this now. You’re free.”
She blinks, clearly surprised at that. “I can leave if I want?”
“You can,” I say. “I really mean it. You’re free.”
She goes quiet for a second, looking down at her ankle. For the first time since she’s been here, there’s nothing keeping h
er in my house. If she gets up and runs now, she’ll get away.
And I’ll let her go. I knew I couldn’t keep her forever from the start of this. But as things progressed, I did start to think that maybe, just maybe, she’d somehow stay anyway. I don’t want her to leave, but it’s her right.
I’m not going to kill her. I’m not going to hurt her. She killed with me, proved herself, and now she’s free to go. If she wants to leave and live a normal life away from serial killing, away from death, I don’t blame her. This isn’t a life that most people would choose willingly. I’m not going to force her into it if she doesn’t want to.
She finally looks up at me with a small smile. “Well,” she says. “Coffee is ready. Want some?”
“Sure.” She walks over to the pot, grabs two mugs from the cabinet, and pours. She brings me over one and sits back down.
“What’s for breakfast?” she asks.
With that, I have to look away. I can’t help myself. I’m smiling too big and the excitement is so strong. I don’t know what it means, but at least she’s staying for breakfast. I walk over to the stove, get out some eggs and a pan, and light the burner.
I’ll cook for her as long as she wants me to. But the moment she wants to get away, I’ll let her go, too.
For now, the memory of her beautiful, innocent face as she plunged that knife into Sheer’s chest keeps me going.
The city seems less crowded than usual as I make my way down Market Street. I spot Ryan up ahead in his usual spot, wearing his usual clothes, but something feels off. He glances up at me but instead of nodding, he quickly looks away.
I approach slowly, uncertain. He likely knows that Sheer has disappeared already, and maybe he’s finally taking issue with what I do with these people.
He’s difficult to read. From the beginning, I got the sense that he didn’t much like what I did, but he also didn’t much care one way or the other so long as he kept getting paid. Some of the men I’ve worked with in the past kept helping me because they felt that what I was doing was right. Those men were always trustworthy, but they were also more dangerous. It’s hard to control a real believer.
