Blood Lust
Page 18
She kicked the luggage aside before walking over to the body. I lunged toward her. “You need me to move him for you?”
Millie turned to me with a grin as she looked me up and down. Slowly. So fucking slowly I was sure she’d notice the bulge in my pants I couldn’t seem to make go away. “No, thanks,” she finally said, the grin turning into a smirk. “Wouldn’t want you to wrinkle your shirt.”
I glanced down at my blue striped Oxford and slacks. It was my typical work clothes, but suddenly I felt overdressed. I turned to look at her and noticed for the first time she was wearing baggy coveralls and work boots.
How had I noticed her body, but not what was on it? It had been drilled into me to stay observant in the SEALs and as a bodyguard. I prided myself on the fact that nothing got past me. But this sure as hell did.
I heard a loud cracking sound, and my eyes darted back to Millie. Somehow, she’d already moved the body easily twice her size onto the plastic sheet. Now, she was standing above the body with an arm in her hands.
A detached arm.
Tendons and muscle dangled from the end of it as she tossed the appendage onto the tarp.
“What the fuck?” I couldn’t help but say.
Millie looked up and shrugged. “Told you you’d want to leave before this part.” She reached over and grabbed his other arm before yanking it from his body.
I stood there, eyes wide as I watched this woman who couldn’t have been more than five foot four inches and a hundred and twenty pounds tear a full-grown man apart.
But that was exactly what she was doing.
How was she so strong?
“It’s a good thing he was drained already,” she commented as she tossed aside the second arm. “Things get really messy when they’ve still got blood in them.”
I’d seen a lot of fucked up things in my life, but this definitely cracked the top three.
“Can I… um… help you?”
She laughed as she pulled off his head. “No. I’m good. You can talk to me though. Tell me how this guy pissed off Hausle.”
I gaped for a moment before I got my tongue to work again. “Um, this is his girlfriend’s dad.”
Millie whistled. “Damn. Guess the meeting with pops didn’t go well.”
I chuckled, which was strange, because I was watching a woman tear a body apart limb by limb. But still, it was kinda funny.
“Actually, this fucker came here to rob him, and in the process, he almost killed his daughter.”
Millie froze with one of the man’s legs in the air. Her face turned hard. “He hit her?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. He really fucked her up. She was unconscious when I got up here.” And she was also being fed blood from her boyfriend, but I didn’t mention that part. I didn’t want this woman to think I was as crazy as I felt just thinking that sentence.
Millie’s eyes were like glass marbles, hard and cold as she looked back at the body. With a loud wrenching sound, she twisted his leg off his body and tossed it aside. “Wish he was alive to feel that,” she muttered.
“Honestly? Same. I’ve heard a lot about this asshole and the shit he used to do to his daughter. I think his death was probably too quick.”
Millie nodded slowly as she stared at the body. “If it makes you feel better, it seems like most of his bones were broken already. Probably happened before he died.”
I nodded once. “It does make me feel a little better.”
She glanced up at me, an appreciative light in her eyes.
“What about you?” I asked. “Do you… tear a lot of bodies apart?” I finished stupidly.
Millie laughed again, the sound tinkling and filled with joy and so fucking sweet. “No. Definitely not.” She pulled at her baggy clothes. “I had to borrow these from someone.”
“They look good on you,” I said immediately. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I winced. I sounded like a fucking moron.
Her eyes twinkled. “Thanks.”
She turned back to the body and grabbed his second leg as I tried to think of something smart to say. Which would be a first for this conversation.
“So, if this isn’t typical for you, why did Hausle call you?”
She tore the last limb from his body before turning to me. “I owed him a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
Millie tossed the leg aside before looking at me again. “Well, he disposed of a body for me once, so I guess this is only fair.”
I looked at her again. Closer this time. Making sure to take in every little detail. Funny enough, knowing she’d killed someone before made no difference in how bad I wanted her. None.
“So, do you kill people often?”
Her head whipped in my direction before she threw it back and laughed hard. I watched her delicate throat bob with her chuckles and my hands twitched with the need to touch her. To find out if her skin was as soft as it looked.
“No. I don’t kill people often. Or ever. That was a one-time thing. I was young and angry, and honestly, the asshole deserved it.”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know a few people I wouldn’t miss.”
Her eyes darted to me again. “No, I mean like he really, really deserved it.”
I frowned. “Was he a murderer?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Technically, yeah.”
“Was he going to hurt someone else?”
She nodded. “I have no doubt he would.”
I shrugged. “Then I guess you did the world a favor.”
Millie looked at me. No, watched me for a long time before speaking again. “Things always that black and white for you?”
I shrugged again. “Sometimes, yeah.”
“So, you don’t think killing is wrong.”
She said it like a statement and not a question, but I answered anyway.
“I think some people need killing, yeah.” I looked down on the bastard that abused his daughter for years and it only reinforced my opinion. “Some people are just bad. Some people don’t have any redeemable qualities.”
She nodded slowly. “How can you tell the difference? Between the ones that are bad and the ones who just do bad things?”
I thought about that for a minute, knowing that, for whatever reason, my next words would hold some weight. “This may sound a little Christ-like, but I feel like the really bad ones aren’t ever sorry. The ones who just do bad things are usually remorseful at least. The others couldn’t care less.”
She nodded again, her lips pursed and her eyes far away. “I think you’re probably right,” she said softly. Millie looked back at the dead guy. “You think this guy was sorry?”
I shook my head immediately. “From everything I’ve heard, no. Not at all. Hell, he stabbed his daughter in the gut when she tried to run away from him, and the bastard still followed her here. Nah. This one needed to go.”
She turned to me, her eyes like emeralds. “That’s awful.” It struck me as odd that a woman who’d never met this person or the daughter he abused would even care, but it was clear she did. A lot.
“What about you?” I asked. “Was he sorry? The guy you killed?”
Her expression turned hard again. “No. He wasn’t.” She turned back to the body and started gathering the limbs in her arms. “In fact, he told me he’d do it again. That was when I knew he had to go.”
I hurried to her side and grabbed the guy’s torso, thankful she’d left the heaviest piece for me. I hefted what was left of Kevin Wakefield into my arms and followed her over to the suitcase.
“I think you did the right thing,” I finally said.
She was crouched down, stuffing body parts in the luggage when she looked up. Her bright eyes were wide open for me. Millie stared at me for so long I forgot what we were doing as I got lost in her gorgeous gaze. Finally, she nodded and turned away. “I hope you’re right,” she said, her voice soft.
I watched her busy herself for a long time, the longing in me to keep pushing
so strong. I wanted to know more. Hell, I wanted to know everything.
Who this asshole was that she killed. Who did he kill before she took him out? And why was she still harboring guilt over something that seemed like it happened a long time ago?
I kneeled next to her and stuffed the dead man’s torso in the suitcase. It was a tight fit, but we finally got all his pieces inside and the zipper closed before turning to each other.
I’m not sure what came over me or what I was thinking, but before I could talk myself out of it, I reached for her hand.
It was softer than I’d imagined.
“I know you did the right thing,” I said, putting as much assurance into my words as I could.
Millie looked up at me and smiled, and I swear, I’d never seen anything as stunning as her in that moment.
But I only got to appreciate the sight for that moment because there was a knock on the door. Our expressions turned cautious as we stared at each other.
“Expecting someone?” she whispered.
I shook my head. “No. I’m not.” I climbed to my feet and walked over to the door, taking a moment to peer through the peephole first. My brows furrowed as I stared into an empty hallway. “What the hell?” I murmured as I wrapped my hand around my gun and cracked the door open.
The heavy wood smashed into my face, throwing me backward. The pistol flew from my hand as blood poured down my face for the second time today and I knew my night was nowhere near over.
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About the Author
Heather MacKinnon is a romance author living in North Carolina with her husband, adorable son, and two trouble making dogs. She grew up on Long Island and spent her young adult years in various states in New England. This led to her subsequent addiction to Dunkin’ Donuts lattes and her gratuitous use of the word “wicked”. After a lifetime of enjoying other people’s words, she decided to write down some of her own. You can get up-to-date information about Heather MacKinnon’s books at www.heathermackinnonauthor.com.
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