Rage (Her Monsters Book One) - K.A Knight Page 0,31
aimed at him. He freezes, his breaths wheezing as I step closer and push it into his privates. “Now, I know it's hard for you to listen with all the cocks in your mouth, but I'm going to need you to concentrate for a couple of seconds, okay?”
When he doesn't answer me, I dig the gun in and he yelps and nods desperately, sweat appearing on his forehead.
“Good boy.” I tap his cock with the barrel of the pistol. “Now, little Stacey out there has disappeared and you won't try to follow her, or I will become your own little poltergeist every time you try and get your disgusting little woodpecker wet, whether that be in one of your girls or your security team.”
He sputters at that and I grin.
“Oh yes, darling. I have pictures, pictures I’m sure you would hate to get out, seeing you’re one of the biggest homophobes in the fucking city. So you will leave her alone, as well as any other girls you are beating on.”
He nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. “Anything else?”
I lean forward, digging the gun in as I whisper in his ear. “I'll be seeing you soon husband—game on.”
I drop the gun and turn, leaving as casually as I can. I hear him muttering about too much drugs and drinking behind me, no doubt his tiny little mind is trying to protect him from the fact that the wife he killed has come back from the dead with her sights set on him. Whatever helps him cope, because I’m only just getting started, and I can't wait to have my fun. Whistling to myself, I leave the restaurant and head to the designer shops down the road. I'm going to put a dent in his cards. Laughing, pull out the wallet I slipped from his pocket while he was distracted. Let's see how much I can buy before the meeting later. Time for a pretty woman moment...apart from the fact that I’m not a prostitute and he’s definitely no Edward Lewis.
Let me tell you, money opens a lot of doors. I didn't grow up poor per se, but I wasn't rich, and it's crazy how flashing some black cards and cash can change a person's attitude towards you. I could probably finger myself on the black, leather sofa I’m sitting on in the middle of the ladies section and they wouldn't give a fuck, only ask if I needed any refreshments.
The two women who are serving me bustle back and forth bagging up clothes, hats, shoes, and more as they bring additional items over for me to try on. I have no plans to wear this shit at all—well, maybe some of it, the rest I’m going to donate. See, I can be a good person…sometimes.
“Miss, would you like another drink?” the pretty blonde, who informed me her name was Sarah, asks with a sneer of her lips that she doesn’t think I catch. Her pencil skirt and blouse are pressed perfectly, and probably worth than my old apartment. I nod as I lean back and she brings me a fresh glass of champagne.
It's way too perfect in here, it makes me want to fuck some shit up just because I can. Kicking off my heels, I curl my legs under me on the sofa. Her eyes widen before she schools her expression. Bringing the glass to my lips I block my smile with it.
“Sarah, be a doll. Run and get me a pizza, would you? I'm starving.” I tell her, just to see if she will. Call it curiosity. The dead have to have a few perks, right?
“Erm, I’m afraid we have a no eating policy,” she counters, looking around as if hoping someone else will appear and take me away. If it wasn't for the card on the sofa next to me, she would have kicked me out an hour ago.
“Okay, bag all this stuff up apart from those jeans, the red dress, that black number, and those golden heels. Here is the two address of where to send the rest.” I pass over a sheet of paper. Written there is a homeless shelter’s number and the other number is Stacy's. I figured Stacey deserves some of that dickwad’s money as well.
She nods and scurries away, no doubt happy to be rid of me. Pulling out the new phone I bought, I check the time. I still have a couple of hours to kill before the