Indebted(36)

“She’s going to die of the need to have an orgasm…” Bree says rolling her eyes at me. She obviously doesn’t like my softness towards the waitress. That doesn’t matter to me though, because she isn’t the one who will be riding my dick night after night.

“That sucks then doesn’t it…?” I say sipping from my wine glass. I am not a wine kind of man. Bourbon is my choice of drink. It helps drown out the darkness that always wants to break free. I stare at Bree, my eyes lingering on her cleavage. How good will my dick look sliding between her perky tits?

“If you know what it’s like to lose someone then why do you kill all these people?” Bree asks, gripping her wine glass so hard I wonder if it will break. I hadn’t told her anything about losing someone, although I had hinted.

“It’s a job, Bree. It’s what I do. This is what my family did before me. It’s not as if I have a choice.” I say, irritated with her accusation. Does she think that she knows me because we had fucked a couple of times?

“Everyone has a choice, Alzerro. If you know what it’s like to lose someone you love, then you turning around and killing all these people makes you a hypocrite.” My patience snaps, and a fire builds in my veins as I reach across the table to grip her by the throat. My hold is gentle, but I squeeze just to remind her that it is I who is in control. A soft gasp escapes her pink painted lips, and her eyes grow large with fear. My insides yearn to slide my dick deep into her well she cries and begs for forgiveness.

“There is no good, and evil in this world love. It’s just me, and that’s something you’re going to need to learn really fast. My patience for your misunderstanding is running really thin.” My grip tightens ever so slightly, as my tongue slides across the sensitive part of her neck.

“Kill me then…” she grits out between breaths. Her eyes are filled with lust, and I have half the mind to push this shit off the table and throw her down, push her panties to the side and slam into her over and over again.

Instead I smile at her sinfully, death will be the easy way out for her. I kill people who gave me a reason to kill them. “Give me a reason to and I will.” I release her as if her skin burns me, and go back to my glass of wine.

“There is a special place in hell for people like you,” she spits at me. Her words mean nothing to me. She hasn’t a clue the type of things that are said to me when someone has a gun pointed at them.

“No, darling, you’re in that hell…” Of course, the fucking waitress decides then is the perfect time to bring our food. She sits the spinach filled ravioli in front of me, and then places Bree’s in front of her, but not before giving her a dirty look and saying, “Here you go, bitch.” I may be a fucking asshole who kills people left and right, but no one treats Bree like shit but me.

“Don’t look or talk to my guests like that again, or it’ll be your job.” I say sternly to her. Her eyes grow wide with fear, tears threatening to fall from her thick eyelashes. Then she turns and scampers away.

“You don’t have to stick up for me. I mean after all, you’re the one who was just holding me by the throat,” she growls, pushing the food that had been placed in front of her away. I feel myself growing feral with every word that slips from her mouth. She’s mouthy, she’s sinfully sweet, and she’s extremely dangerous to my sanity.

I frown at her, but continue on with my meal. I won’t waste my food simply because she doesn’t like hers. She’s not in control. I think about telling her more about my mother and father, about what happened to my mother, but I don’t. I know it might make her understand me more, but I feel like if she understands me more than she won’t fear me. Once the fear is gone I have nothing to use against her.

Time passes as I finish my meal, and she sits there with her food untouched. What a waste. The server comes and removes our plates without a word said. I leave the money on the table and stand, pulling Bree to her feet. She doesn’t resist, and it wouldn’t matter if she did. I would drag her out of here screaming if I had to.

“Get in the car,” I order, opening the door to the SUV. She looks at me as if she’s going to actually attempt running. “If you’re even thinking about running, I’ll shoot you right in the back of the head. You won’t even be able to take a breath and you’ll be dead.” My hand reaches to my gun, hidden behind my back. Will I shoot her? I’m not sure, and the fact that I hesitate even in the slightest bit scares me. She doesn’t try anything, instead groans, getting into the car. I’m walking over to my door, when Jared my driver stops me.