A man stood in the kitchen, shouting, “Callie? Callie, are you here?” A tall, thin man. Brown hair. Unassuming, at least from the back.
Still holding the shovel, I broke my silence, “Who are you?”
The man whirled around, bright green eyes landing on me. I knew I’d seen him before; it was his eyes that gave him away. The man from the coffee shop. The one who would not stop staring at Stella. “Who the fuck are you?” he asked, not having the good sense to be frightened.
I gave him my most charming, disarming smile. It was a smile that fooled damn near everyone I met, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. “I’m Killian, Stella’s boss.” My fingers gripped the shovel tighter, my leather glove clenching.
“I’m just here looking for my sister, since no one answers my fucking texts anymore,” he said.
“Oh, you’re her brother?” I played innocent, played coy. I flung a thumb over my shoulder, pointing to the door that led to the garage. This house was small; it didn’t have a backdoor, thankfully. And the garage was the perfect place to end this. “She’s out back. Come on. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.” I spun and started to go, and the man—who mustn’t have been more than twenty-two years old—followed me begrudgingly.
When he stepped foot into the garage, he said, “What the hell are you doing here this early on a Sunday anyway? Don’t tell me you’re sleeping with my sister—”
I stood between him and the door that would lead to the backyard. When he spoke, I abruptly stopped walking, causing him to ram into my back and curse at me. I turned to him, watching as he shook his head and swore again.
This one…he had a mouth on him. I didn’t like him.
“What the fuck?” he asked, taking a single step back when he noticed how intently I gripped the shovel. I didn’t give him the chance to say more.
I moved swiftly, no hesitation, as fast as a man could possibly move. All it took was two seconds for me to lift the shovel and hit the metal against his temple, so quickly and so hard I heard the familiar crack of bone against steel reverberate through the air.
The man collapsed, his body trembling and his eyes blinking a few times before he stopped moving entirely. Nerves. Sometimes it happened. What I would really like to see is whether or not a head was still capable of blinking even after being severed. I’d heard stories of chickens running around headless.
That would be a fun thing to see, I think.
I had a long to-do list now—move his car, handle his body, deal with the corpse in the flower bed…not to mention sanitize the garage after it was said and done. But I allowed myself the time to kneel beside him and reach into his pocket. Pulling out his wallet, I saw his name was John Woods.
My eyes flicked to his bleeding form. “Well, John Woods,” I paused, placing his wallet in my back pocket, near my own, “looks like you’ve had a bit of bad luck. Don’t worry, though. I’ll take good care of you.” Indeed, I would. I had to, if I wanted to protect Stella.
I’d found my next angel.
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Cruel Black Hearts: A Dark Reverse Harem Romance Page 20