Grace Anne - By Kathi S. Barton Page 0,50

to barge into her fun. When she’d sat over him and told him what she had planned, he looked like he thought she was insane. The pillow over his face probably gave him the first indication that she was serious.

Every time his cock became flaccid she’d suck him off. No man could resist her mouth and she made him hard almost immediately. Well, she could at first. After the fourth time she’d cut him he was harder to…well, get hard. She smiled at her pun. By the time he’d lost consciousness the first time she’d already cut him enough that she knew he was going to have to die. Then, when she’d gagged him, the real fun had begun.

At first Verrie had experimented, played with the way she cut him. She was inexperienced in the way she killed him; she could see that now. But as the years had gone by her work with a blade had become precise and perfect until she knew when she had a man in her clutches he was hers until she’d had enough. Killing a man slowly, she could bleed them out and still have her fun. She was able to make the killing last for days now rather than the few hours she’d had the first time. She thought of the people she had killed that night and decided to go to the furnace room and check on her latest victims.

She’d had to hide them quickly before one of the others came to her. Verrie hadn’t expected anyone to come by and nearly catch her in the act of having fun with the man she’d picked up at the bar the night before. She wasn’t stupid. She was a murderer, but not that. No, never that. She’d wrapped him in the throw on the back of the disgusting couch and hidden him behind it when someone had started ringing the door bell.

Her landlord at the door simply wouldn’t leave. Finally, after an hour of him asking about the different aspects of the apartment, she’d taken one of Ginny’s pots and hit him over the head with it. It took her forever to get the landlord’s body down to the furnace room and even longer to get the first man she’d killed down there too. She’d had to hide the fucking prick who’d wanted to make sure the stove was working correctly before he came up missing. Now she had the landlord all wrapped up in plastic and the dead man from earlier both tucked in the basement. She needed to find somewhere to put them, and fast.

She made her way to the basement and was trying to decide the best way to move over four hundred pounds of bloody dead weight then the fucking debutante killer popped out from behind the furnace.

“You have to help me. I can’t go…the police were at my house and now I can’t go back.”

She stared at him as he continued to rant.

“They think I killed somebody. I didn’t…I don’t think I did. My stepbrother and that cunt, they framed me.”

“They have you on tape, you fucking moron. There was a security camera at the gate where you left her body. When you kill someone, you can’t leave any witnesses.” She smiled at him, thinking that was a good plan. “You get in touch with your brother yet?”

“He’s not my brother,” he snarled at her. “He’s my fucking stepbrother.”

When he lunged at her, Verrie smiled bigger and pulled the trigger on her gun.

Chapter 15

Michael had to go home. He didn’t want to. He wanted to stay here in Ohio and get to know Grace’s family and enjoy them. But the problem with his brother and his mother’s hysterics was too much for his dad to handle alone. He was tossing stuff into his case when Trace came into the room. Without stopping, he glanced at him and grimaced. Trace was upset.

“We’ll only be gone long enough to get this fixed then come right back. Grace said she’d even watch Walter for you and make sure he was—”

“I don’t want to go. I want to…I’m afraid to go back with you.”

Michael turned to look at his son as he continued.

“If I go back, Thomas will find me and hurt me. He’s told me that before. And maybe…”

Michael was almost afraid to ask. “Maybe what, son? What else makes you not want to go back with me? I promise you that Thomas won’t come near you. He’ll not get past