The Butcher of the Bay Part II - J. Bree Page 0,59
bring my gun? Or one of my new knives?”
He smiles at me and rubs a thumb over my bottom lip, still a little abused from his teeth and the way he fucked my mouth with rawness and utter abandon. “You should always have them on you, baby girl, but I’ll make sure you don’t need to use them. That’s my job.”
I’ll have to wear a jacket to cover them, the jeans ruling out my thigh holster for the gun. I prefer not to have things around my waist when I paint or cook and when I said this to him mon Monstre had immediately bought me the alternate options. Who knew there were so many places on your body you could hide weapons?
I’m excited about going out together. Watching him work is a joy and one I don’t get to do so often… not without a concussion or the terror of being kidnapped.
“You don’t have to come, baby girl. No frowning.”
I blink at him and concentrate on smoothing out my face. “I didn’t mean to. I was just thinking about your list. I definitely want to come help today.”
He coaxes my back down onto his chest, his fingers threading through my hair as he plays with the long strands. “Don’t think about it. It’s my list to worry about, your only worries are about painting and finding new recipes to try out. No bread.”
I giggle. He’s still traumatized from my bread breakdown and I’m not sure he’ll ever get over it. “No more bread. Maybe I should start making cakes and pies. French pastry, if you’d like to try?”
He smiles and pats his perfect abs, not an ounce of fat on him. “You cook it and I’ll eat it, baby. In-between eating you, that is. Alright, let’s get that perfect ass of yours moving. We’ve got a morgue to rob.”
We get up and ready quickly, skipping breakfast altogether because mon Monstre promises me coffee and bagels in the car on the way down there. American bagels are delicious, something he brings home to me often, and the fact that he remembers these little things for me is the reason I love him.
The scowl on his face as he helps me out of the car when we arrive at our destination, and the way he curves his body around mine like a shield as we walk, is another reason.
I rest my head on his shoulder, pretending to be upset just as he asked, and the solid plane of his chest presses against my ear. The sheer size of him has my knees weak, my heart pounding, and my soul waiting to be devoured whole.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, directing us into the large building. It’s cold enough that I’m glad he’s holding me, and a startled sort of quiet takes over the room as we make our way over to the front desk.
There aren't many people here but I can feel their eyes on me keenly so I bury my face even further into mon Monstre’s shoulder and pretend to sob silently, my body trembling delicately. I can’t go too far overboard with it because, even knowing it’s a farce Illi will lose his cool.
Flip my shit, he’d warned me earlier.
“Can I help you?” the woman at the desk asks, her voice just a little hesitant.
Illi moves me in his arms a little so he can pull some papers out of his pocket. “We got a call about identifying a body. It’s my girl’s brother, here’s the photo.”
I hear them shuffling things around and then the woman speaks again. “I’ll have to call the medical examiner. We’ve already had this person identified, I’m not sure who called you.”
Mon Monstre shrugs. “We came all the way down here, we’re not leaving until she’s seen him.”
There’s more shuffling and then I hear the clip-clop sound of her heels on the tiles as she walks away. I keep the shaking up, there are cameras and other witnesses, and Illi ducks his head to murmur in my ear, “Great job, baby girl. Nearly there.”
“Chantel is right, Mr Fields was identified this morning. Please, follow me. I have some information on grief counseling that you can access if you or your wife need it.”
I pull away from Illi enough that I can walk beside him a little easier as we follow the man. My eyes are stinging and I swipe at my cheeks as if there are tears to wipe away. I don’t want to disappoint mon