No Limit (Armed & Dangerous #1)(56)

Drake’s son. God, what was his name . . . Blaine? Eww, she was f*cking her stepson. You have got to be kidding me. In complete and utter shock, I couldn’t take my eyes away from the disgusting display. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the whole scheme was about. Drake was probably the clueless bastard in the whole thing.

Blaine was done getting his jollies in just a few seconds, but he held her down on the table with a hand at her neck. She tried to lift up, but he forced her back down. “When are you going to stop wearing condoms? I want to feel you come inside me.”

His other fist clenched. “You mean like my father does? Did he come inside you when you f*cked him last night?” I could hear the anger in his voice and I held back a gasp. The whole situation was too f*cked up to even wrap my head around.

“Blaine, that’s not . . . I didn’t . . .”

He pulled out of her and before I could even attempt to help, he swiftly grabbed the knife on the table and slid it across her throat. I slapped a hand over my mouth and closed my eyes, trying hard to keep from making a sound. It had to be a bad dream. Surely, I didn’t just see that happen? Unfortunately, I could hear Georgia choking on her own blood and then the sound of her body as it crashed to the floor.

Think, Aylee. I had to get out of there, but how? Opening my eyes, I took a deep breath and peered through the crack again. Blaine ripped off the condom and wrapped it in a paper towel before shoving it in his jeans pocket. The bloody knife was on the table but still within his reach. If I raced out now, he could easily grasp it and attack.

“I know you’re watching,” he called out. Eyes wide, I stepped back, my pulse racing. His eyes transfixed on mine through the crack and he smiled. “Did you like the show?” Strolling to the door, he pushed it open and leaned against the frame, all cool and casual as if he didn’t just kill someone. His hands were covered in blood and he had droplets on his chest and face. The metallic smell of it made me nauseated. “Can’t speak?” he asked, eyes gleaming.

“No.”

His eyebrows lifted in amusement. “No, you can’t speak? Or no, you didn’t like the show?”

“No, I didn’t like the show. Happy?” I huffed.

The wolfish smile on his face spread wider as he stepped forward. “Much,” he said, wiping his bloody hands on his jeans. “I couldn’t wait to get rid of that cunt. She never knew when to keep her mouth shut.”

“So it was her who hit me over the head and you with Jason? Where is he?”

His eyes raked over my body. “He’s fine, probably in the hospital. I can’t say the same for you though. You woke up a lot earlier than expected.”

“Trust me, I’d have preferred not seeing you f*ck your stepmother and then slice her throat open.”

His eyes widened. “No wonder my father couldn’t wait to f*ck you again.”

“I didn’t f*ck your father,” I hissed.

“No? He said he did. Why would he lie?”

“Because I made him think we did. I can be quite persuasive.”

He stared at me. “Intriguing. You’re not reacting the way I thought you would. Most women would be scared right now, especially after watching me kill someone. One would almost think you’ve seen it before.”

I had seen death and it scared me, but I wasn’t afraid of him. I was afraid of not having a plan. “I have killed people, Mr. Blackwell. So maybe it’s you who should be afraid of me.”

Holding the door open, he waved me forward, holding back his chuckle. “Whatever you say. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“Upstairs. Not unless you want to stay down here with a rotting corpse.” When I didn’t move, he pursed his lips, losing patience. “Either you move those feet of yours or I’ll drag you upstairs by your hair. Personally, I’d rather not because I kind of like that red hair of yours, besides I’m sure you have a screaming headache right now.”

It was true, I did. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly and took my first step. I kept my head held high and walked past him, only for him to grab my arm.

“Good girl. It’s time to get you cleaned up.”

“Cleaned up for what?”

“You’ll see. But I think right now we could both use a shower.” He winked down at me and my stomach clenched.

Gripping my arm tight, he walked me past Georgia’s corpse and the torture table, managing to get us by without stepping on the blood. I could only imagine the kind of torment the other women had endured while being stuck down there. He flipped off the lights like it was no big deal to leave a dead body on the floor. There was a long hallway with multiple doors. The one he chose led up a set of stairs to another shut door.

I willingly followed him up, knowing very damn well anything was going to be better than the basement. When he opened the door, I squinted my eyes away from the sunlight. My heart sank. It was daylight, which meant I’d been gone for hours, if not days. “Who’s house is this?”

He jerked me across the marble floors. “My father’s. He never came up here.”

“Let me guess, it’s where you and Georgia came to kill the other women? This house reeks of death.”

Stopping mid-step, he turned to face me, eyes narrowed. “What do you know about that? There hasn’t been anything in the media.”