Page 14 of Beast's Wife
Carver waited for Andy to leave.
“Please don’t. I didn’t mean to … do this.”
“You didn’t mean to scale my wall, fall into my property, holding this gun?” He held up the small handgun. “These knives?” He held up two hunting knives. “And some cuffs, and rope?”
This was all George had on him.
“Romone said it would be easy and then he’d overlook … the girls.”
Carver tutted. It didn’t come as a surprise to him that Romone was now dabbling in underage girls. There were a lot of sick fucks in the world, and there were some evil bastards who couldn’t handle women, so they preyed on the innocent, theweak.
“Do you make a lot of money off the girls?” Carver asked, moving to straddle the chair in front of him.
George looked at him, and then toward the door where Andy had escaped.
“Do you want a piece of the action?” he asked.
“I want to know how much you make off the girls,” Carver said. “What happens?”
The man before him was clearly scrambling his brain, trying to figure out if there was some kind of deal he could make that would get him off the hook.
Carver was not interested in girls. He wasn’t interested in profiting off the innocent. With the work he did, he was already a very wealthy man, and seeing as he also had a knack for investing, he was not lacking for money. Carver already owned his property. He also owned several properties across the globe, for when business or the need for a vacation came in handy.
“So, ugh, I have these clients. Wealthy clients, and they don’t like the old and used pussy. They wanted something fresh, and there are a lot of girls out there that no one gives a shit about. They’re easy to find. I have men all over, and I’m given a brief description of what they want—blonde, redhead, or brown, whatever—chubby or not. We find the girl, take her, get her hooked on heroine or meth, something I have a constant supply of, and then she will do anything for it. That is when I supply her to my client. They like them willing. I mean, not all the men. Some of them don’t want them so complacent, so willing to do whatever they want.”
Carver had heard enough. Using the blades intended for this purpose, he slid each one into the man’s thighs.
George had looked happy with his little business endeavor.
Carver wasn’t happy. Using girls like that, to him, wassick and twisted. He was going to need the names of all those men, because those kind of fuckers didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as Morgan.
George screamed and the sound echoed around the room.
“You wanted to know.”
“Yeah, I did, because I wanted to see if you were proud of your achievements or if you were following Romone’s instructions. This was not Romone’s business.”
“No, it was, it was, I swear it! I swear. This had nothing to do with me!”
The man lied so easily, and he was more than willing to do it.
He shouldn’t have been surprised. Once the blades were firmly in place, he got to work removing parts of the man’s body while he was still alive. Piece by piece. The screams stopped the moment he was dead.
By the time he was finished, there was nothing left of George, but he made sure they were all secured in packages. He got them loaded into a truck and drove them, once he was clean again, to the post office. Once again, he mailed them to Romone. This time, there was no message. If Romone was smart, he’d realize the next person he was coming for would be him.
Chapter Five
Sixteen to three. It wasn’t the worst score in the world, but it also wasn’t the greatest. Morgan had lost count of how long they had been playing, but Andy kept raising that brow of his.
“How do you do that?” she asked.
“What?”
“Raise just one brow? That is insane. I mean, come on. I’ve tried.” She attempted to raise a single brow, to no avail. Both of her brows lifted together, and she let out a growl of frustration. “I give up.”
Andy chuckled. “Consider it years of practice.”
She wriggled her nose. “Yeah, you have all the practice, and I’ve got nothing.” She sighed. “Come on.”