How to Kill Men and Get Away With It(46)

I’m not sure he’s convinced.

‘Maybe we can catch up tomorrow?’ he asks.

‘We can definitely do that.’ I give him a lame wave.

He walks a few steps away from me before he turns back. ‘It’s funny. But I’m sure Hen’s Instagram said she was away with Grut tonight. I must’ve got it wrong.’ He turns and heads towards the lift, without a glance back.

I close the door and sink back against it.

Fucking social media.

I have to deal with the Charlie stuff later though as, at the moment, Niall needs my undivided attention. He’s fully with it now and is staring at me with that mix of fear and bewilderment I’ve grown to love so much.

‘That was my boyfriend,’ I tell the man mountain. ‘He’s a good man. There really aren’t that many of them about. And now, thanks to you,’ I give him another kick in the groin at this point, ‘he probably thinks I’m fucking someone else.’

I straddle Niall and get my knife out before I rip the duct tape from his face. It’s pretty industrial stuff and he gets a mini facial wax at the same time.

‘Fucking ow,’ he hisses and I hold the knife right against his Adam’s apple.

‘Did that hurt? Only speak when you’re spoken to from now on, or I swear, I will cut your voice box right out of your throat. Understand?’

Niall nods weakly.

‘So, you’re probably wondering what’s going on here, aren’t you? You’re probably wondering how you went from meeting a lovely little single mummy online to being drugged and held hostage by me.’

He nods again and that fear in his eyes is really starting to turn me on.

‘I think you probably know what’s going on, deep down, Niall. Have a little search of your soul and tell me what you think.’

He frowns and deep lines appear across his forehead. He’s either spent too much time in the sun, or he’s lied about his age online.

‘I don’t know what’s going on here apart from the fact you’re obviously batshit crazy,’ he says. ‘Where’s Kelly? Who the fuck are you?’

I rap my knuckles on his head.

‘You really are a meathead, aren’t you? There is no Kelly, you sweaty fucking sociopath. I made her up! She was a ruse to get you here so I can hurt you and kill you. Now, have a think about why a woman who doesn’t know you might want to do that.’

I can almost see the switch click in his head. ‘Are you related to one of them bitches that’s tried to stitch me up or something? Which one put you up to this? They’re all fucking liars!’

‘All five women, who have absolutely no links whatsoever to each other, all made up shockingly similar stories about how you violently beat them, did they?’

He nods.

‘Stop with all the nodding before I cut your spinal cord. Answer me. You’re saying they all made it up?’

‘They were pissed off when I finished things with them and reported me over something and nothing. That Beth one was a psycho. She attacked me. Like I told the police, she came at me with a wooden spoon. It was self-defence, what I did to her.’

I pull up the news report on my phone.

‘It says here that you broke her nose in two places, fractured her jaw and tore her right rotator cuff so badly her shoulder came out of its socket. She couldn’t hold her baby daughter for six weeks. And you’re claiming self-defence? You’re about three times the size of that woman.’

He’s silent. He knows he’s fucked.

‘And what’s the single mum thing all about? Why do you always go for women with kids? Get some extra kick out of having an audience?’

‘They’re easier. Most of them are so desperate to have a man in their life they’ll put up with anything.’

That’s more like it. I run the tip of the knife slowly down the side of Niall’s face. It glides through his skin as if it were butter, leaving a rivulet of crimson trickling from his cheek.

‘Just tell me this, Niall, do you enjoy hurting women? You can be honest. It’s not like you’re getting out of here alive either way,’ I say.

‘You’re all fucking mental. I’d happily fuck you up if I had the chance.’

I lean in closer, the sharp smell of his sweat almost makes me heave, but that delicious look in his eyes that doesn’t match his fearless words spurs me on. I press my hips into his.

‘Tell me what you’d do to me.’

A second passes before he answers.

‘I’d start by grabbing your hair and smashing your head into one of your marble tables. That’d stun you, maybe even knock you out. Then I’d just fucking kick the fuck out of you, you mental bitch.’

That does it for me. I plunge my knife deep into his neck, twisting it around as it goes in. The edges are serrated so I know this will make the experience that bit more painful. Niall gurgles and gargles as his blood gushes from the wound in his neck and starts to collect in little red pools on the magazine pages on the floor. I forgot that Vogue isn’t actually very absorbent. The pages are so glossy that the blood just sits on top of them. I really must use something a little less coated next time.

I stay straddling Niall as the life ebbs out of him. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to tell the victims of these men what I’ve done. I wonder how they’d react. Would they thank me? As I gently pull Niall’s eyelids down over his eyes, I remember how many future Kellys and Beths I’ve just saved from this brute.