Page 50 of Faith Among Monsters

He lets me get close.

I lower to my knees, keeping my breathing steady as I work his belt.

His expression doesn’t shift to lust. This isn’t desire. It’s something colder. Crueler.

He’s going to let me take this as far as I will, knowing, thinking, he’s in control.

His pants slide down. The holster is within reach. The knife, closer.

One shot.

I just need to take it.

His eyes are on me. Too sharp.

Will I make it to the gun?

I tilt my gaze up at him, moving slow, measured, the picture of submission. It gives me a better look at the other piece, a slight bulge under his uniform top. Shoulder holster. Shit.

A backup weapon. I can’t risk him going for it.

I will myself to do what’s needed. A touch. A distraction. My fingers skim up his thigh, featherlight, coaxing.Close your fucking eyes.Let your guard down. Make this easy for me.

He doesn’t even react. No smug grin, no shift of his weight, no indication that he’s relaxing into my touch.

Fine. Animal.

Rough it is.

I strike fast, wrapping my fingers around his crotch and squeezing hard.

The reaction is instant. A choked grunt rips from his throat, his whole body locking up as pure pain paralyzes him. His hands twitch toward me, but I already have my stolen second.

I snatch the gun from his waistband, flick the safety off, and fire.

The shot explodes through the room. His head jerks back, body staggering before it crumples to the floor.

The silence that follows isn’t really silence.

My ears are ringing, a high-pitched whine cutting through everything. I know I should move, but for a second, I just stare at him.

I killed him.

No time to think. No time to feel.

Everyone would have heard that.

I push forward, my body moving before my brain can catch up. I kneel, my hands only slightly trembling as I strip him of his shoulder holster, yank the second gun free. I shove it into my waistband, grab the knife next.

Take everything. Leave him with nothing.

The gun I killed him with is still in my hand. My knuckles are white from gripping it too hard. I take a deep breath and force myself to move.

Clothes. I need a shirt.

I run to the closet and yank out the first thing I touch, pulling it over my head. Like modesty matters after what I just did.

I just crushed his balls and then blew his brains out.