Page 7 of Burn (Two Wheeled Psychos #2)

The scream that erupts from his mouth is glorious as my helmet connects with the back of his skull. His head flies forward, his brows bouncing off the roof of the car with a second cracking sound that could break the night sky. He teeters but doesn’t fall, until I swing again, the carbon fiber spoiler on the back of the gear slicing across his scalp, splitting it open.

Blood sprays from the wound, coming out at me, and without my protection it splatters my face, only enraging me more. His sickness, his evil essence is on my skin, threatening to infect me.

“Fucking hell!”

I shout out, bringing the impromptu weapon down on him again and again, the blood flying in wide arcs with each slam of it on his head.

I’m already covered, already tainted, and the panic it causes in me only fans the proverbial flames. The anger, no, rage is uncontainable now, flowing through my body, down my arm, and into the hand that holds my helmet that drips with his dark red blood.

It feels like an eternity, like the earth has ceased rotating and time has stopped as I continue to swing and hit, cracking his head open, forcing his now limp body to slump over the car. Blood and brain matter fall from a crater in his skull, dropping in gelatinous little clumps that slide down the glass of the windshield as his body rolls, then slides down it.

Snail trails of crimson follow him and his escaping pieces, squeaking as they make their way towards his sprawled-out corpse on the hood, disappearing down the cowl before they can be hidden by the matching paint.

He barely fought, a bully by size but nothing more than that. The women I take with my flames try harder than he did, and it’s almost a disappointment as I stand over him, panting from the exertion, looking down at the fucking mess I’ve made. The sounds of the blood dripping from the helmet in my hand onto my shoe and the ground at my feet is the only sound. The woods, and all its critters watch in awe at what I’ve just done, waiting for what I’ll do next.

The calm I feel when I burn trash does not come as I roll him off the car and he falls to the dirt road with a heavy thump. What does come is panic. Not at my actions, he had it coming, but at the gore covering me. My white, ribbed tank is soaked in red liquid, with large spots surrounded by little splatter specks, and my black leather riding pants shimmer with the wetness. It’s disgusting.

Bile rises in my throat, choking me, making my eyes water as I kick the corpse at my feet, cursing from trying to keep the vomit down where it belongs. Leaving fucking evidence with my DNA is a no-go.

“Fuck!”

“What did you do?”

A dainty voice whimpers, breaking the silence of everything around me, yet stopping the breath in my chest.

Not only has she witnessed me burning garbage in an alley in the city but now here she stands looking me in the eyes as I drip with the blood of the shit at my feet. There’s no turning back from this now. She knows what I am.

“What I had to.”

I say, my voice cold.

I’m cooked; she’s going to run to the cops. There’s no turning back now, I need to just accept my fate. I can already hear the bars of my cell slamming closed behind me, and instead of the clamor making me jump, I sigh, and sag in a resigned relief.

Maybe it’s for the best. Ever think of that?

“You killed him.”

She gasps, walking around the car, leaving the car door she opened silently hanging ajar.

Her hand covers her mouth, her body trembling, her hair brushing on her collarbone with each movement. She’s in awe, scared, disgusted, and every other bad emotion I could mention. I can see it on her face, but what surprises me, is that it’s not directed at me as she comes around the front bumper. It’s aimed at the heap on the dirt road leaking out more of its disease onto the dark ground.

“I did. He would have done it to you. There was no other choice.”

Her cat-like eyes shimmer in the low lighting of the evening woods, the only sliver of moonlight seeming to bounce off their glassy surfaces. She stands over him, her sight pointed at the disaster of a mess I made of him, hovering over the destruction for an ungodly length of time before she finally looks back up to me, her gaze softening, changing.

“You…you’re all…”

She says, stepping over the body, coming to me, her hand reaching out for me, yet not touching.

I can feel the air change. An electric current buzzes around the dainty fingers that hover just in front of my blood-soaked tank. My breath catches in my chest, and my heart thunders in my chest. Women don’t reach out for me, they don’t touch me willingly, and they don’t look at me with the fire that’s burning in her dark eyes.

“I’m…uhhh…I’m okay. It’s all his.”

I stutter, licking my dry lips, trying to quench them, before they crack.

“What do we do now?”

she asks, her hand dropping to her side, her gaze still fixed on me and my uncovered face that I can feel is splattered with the diseased blood of the heap at our feet.

“We do nothing.”

I say, shaking my head, clearing it of the fog that has filled it with her presence outside of the car.

“You go wait back at my bike.”

“But…I can…”

She starts but stops and puts her hands on her hips with lowered brows when I shake my head at her.

“No. I will help. Do we call the police?”

“Absolutely not. You want to go to jail for the rest of your life?”

“But I didn’t kill him.”

“You’re an accomplice to them no matter what. We’ll both rot forever. I will not allow that to happen.”

I growl, stepping closer to her, furrowing my forehead, piercing her with my icy blue stare. She swallows thickly, her legs bouncing at her knees as I stalk the two steps to her until the tips of my shoes meet hers, towering over her, looking down menacingly.

“So you’ll do as I say.”

“Or what? You gonna kill me too?”

“You have no idea baby.”

I sneer, reaching out, grabbing both of her wrists, yanking her arms towards me.

She is flawless, not a needle mark or scar on her smooth skin. She’s clean, almost virginal with how soft I imagine her flesh is on the other side of my gloves, and the pleasure of seeing a woman so fresh shoots straight to my dick.

Why this woman affects me so much is impossible to determine. She has this pull, like a tethered rope drawing me in with each movement, word, and even look she gives me. I shouldn’t be standing over a corpse imaging the feeling of her under my palms. Instead I should be burning her along with the guy that brought her up here. She’s a stupid woman, letting a man take her in his car to such a secluded place. But I don’t burn stupidity, I burn disease, and that, she is not.

Her gaze locks on me harder with a defiance that I recognize. It’s the same look I gave when I was first challenged and became the monster that I am. I see it in the glassy surface of her eyes, that desire, that need for something, and it makes me suck in a sharp breath.

“Are you gonna hurt me?”

She asks, biting her lower lip, stepping the final step towards me, her chest touching mine, her breasts brushing against me as she leans in.

Any normal man would take that question as if she were in fear for her safety, but I now that’s not true right now and right here. She’s turned on by my violence, by watching me bludgeon a man to death. I can smell the arousal pouring off her, and I have to admit that it’s affecting me more than it should.

“We need to get rid of the body first baby girl.”

I say, surprising myself at the words flowing from my mouth. Not the part of disposing the body, but the baby girl. I don’t speak that way. I never have and never imagined I would.

Fuck, you’re done for asshole. Already pet naming a whore.

“What do we do?”

“You do nothing. Go wait by the bike like I already said.”

I tell her, watching her lip slide through her teeth, and her cheeks flushing to a deep rose.

“No.”

She purrs.

“Helping you is the least I can do for you saving me from…that.”

She replies, looking down at the pile by our feet, watching the blood seep into the ground from the crater in his skull with a morbid curiosity.

She pulls her hands from mine, and they land on my shoulders, holding me still. Her gaze comes back to mine, peering deep inside me, reading me, sensing the desire hidden in me. The desire I have never acted on with a woman but am finding myself wanting to now. I wonder if she can smell my lust too. She must.

The touch of her soft lips on my dry, blood splattered ones shocks me, even though I see it coming. I don’t know what to do, and my mind races with all the things I know I want to do. I want to grab her, haul her into me, and impale her on my cock that screams in my leather riding pants. But I’ve never kissed a woman before, not willingly at least, and I’m more terrified than I was the first time I lit a body aflame.

I’m stiff as a board, in more ways than one as she peeks her tongue out and licks the seam of my mouth, asking for entrance. She’s hungry for me, turned on and moaning against my lips, and when I open my mouth, she delves inside with a deep sucking breath, taking my air with it.

It's hot and wet, her mouth on me, her tongue sweeping past my teeth, wrapping itself around mine. Sensations I never thought I would enjoy blast through me, making my hands grab her biceps of their own will, and yank her against my body, crushing my erection with her pelvis. I can feel it pulsing and twitching in absolute need, and it takes everything in me to stop myself from yanking off my pants, throwing her on the hood of the car, and fucking her right here.

The body asshole. Get rid of the body before someone comes along. Then fuck her. Destroy her. Take her and ruin her for any other man who would even think of touching her.

“Ph…baby, we need to…”

I say, catching myself from saying the name that wants to roll passionately from my tongue to hers. She can’t know that I know her name, or that I have her picture safely in my pocket.

“Stop? No.”

She moans, delving deeper into my mouth like a woman starved, making me kiss her back with a ferociousness that can only be compared to the energy I put into my “work”.

“We have to.”

I mumble through her kisses, feeling a drop of drool running down my chin, surprised that the wetness doesn’t make me cringe.

“Fine.”

She huffs, pulling away from me, wiping her puffy pink lips with the back of her hand.

“You’re new to that aren’t you?”

That fear comes back at her question, the one where she knows I’ve not done any of this before. I’m too old to be virgin by societal standards, but I am, and until now it never bothered me.

“Uh yeah.”

“Good. I like that.”

She giggles and gently brushes my bare arm with her fingertips.

“Now let’s do this…”

Her voice turns sultry and she squeezes the muscles across my arm.

“So we can do that again.”

The change in her voice, the touch of her on my skin, and the excitement of lighting a fire ignite my insides and I steal another quick kiss from her, this time plowing my tongue in her mouth like a pro, making her sigh against me, then purr like a kitty cat.

“Let’s go.”