Page 14 of Wicked Riddles & Bitter Heartbeats (Till Death Do Us Part #1)

Chapter Eleven

Atticus

Some people may think Lilah is using me for my money.

Since I’ve saved her, I’ve bought her a new wardrobe, a new cell phone, and every hygiene product she asked for, including some hundred-dollar face cream.

But I don’t give a fuck about money, so what does it matter to me?

I’ll never use what I have in my lifetime, so I may as well let my kitten enjoy it.

She’s my responsibility, and I want to spoil the hell out of her.

And it’s not like I lifted a finger for this money, anyway. It was all handed to me.

Her smile does something to me. Something…

I’ve never felt before. Something I didn’t know I was capable of feeling.

I would do anything to see that smile, and if it means buying her things, then I’m fine with that.

Because she looks at me like I hung the stars when I make her come.

I will take care of her in every way she needs because she’s mine.

Lilah is sucking her fingers clean after devouring a bag of Cheetos when I reach the gated community my brother lives in. I come to a stop and roll down my window to speak with security.

“Morning,” the guard greets, hopping out of the small building.

“Good morning, sir. I have a meeting with the property manager.”

“Name, please?”

“Jared Peterson.”

He pops back into the small building and does something on his computer.

Breaking into the place was a risk I didn’t need to take. If all I have to do is give a fake name and make an appointment to get inside, why wouldn’t I?

When I found out where my brother lived, thanks to browsing the internet, I looked into the community.

It’s a nice place—if you like this sort of thing.

There is no way in hell I’d ever be a part of something like this.

When you move into these places, you’re making a silent agreement to befriend everyone else who lives here.

No fucking thank you. It’s like a step down from a cult.

“I see you here for eleven,” the guard says. “Once you’re inside, you’re going to take a left, then follow the road around the curve. The main building is labeled as so, and there is a large parking lot with fountains. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” I say with a smile.

“Thanks, sir!” Lilah says loudly as I start to drive off and roll up the window.

The gates slowly open, and once I’m inside, I follow the man’s directions. But before stopping at the main building, I take a detour down a few roads to pass by James’ house.

Not showing up for the appointment will raise an alarm, I’m sure, so that isn’t what I’m going to do. I’ll have to be creative with this manager and see what I can get out of him.

James’ house looks exactly like all the others. A cookie-cutter two-story house with a one-car garage. There are no decorations in the front yard, and all their doors are the same color. Bet they have no say in that.

“Looks culty,” Lilah comments as she stares out the window.

I huff out a laugh. “Precisely what I was thinking.”

My gaze stays on James’ house for as long as I can as I drive by. There is no car in the driveway, but it could be in the garage. Though, his house feels empty. I drive back the way I came and park in the large lot. Lilah and I get out, and we make our way to the main entrance.

“I have rules,” I say, turning to face Lilah with my hand on the handle of the front door. No, this isn’t a dangerous situation, but I should have had this conversation with her before we even left the house.

She gives me a bright smile. “I will do anything you say.”

Every word that comes out of her mouth, I believe it. So I nod and open the door for her.

She links her hand with mine, and we walk to the front desk. A bright young woman sits behind it and looks up at us with a smile when we reach it.

“You must be Mr. Peterson.”

“That’s me.”

“And your wife?” she asks, looking at Lilah.

“Sure am,” Lilah says through a giggle. “I’m still not used to the Mrs. part. It’s so new.”

Lilah wraps her free hand around my bicep, squeezing.

She should have been an actress. Each time I see her putting on an act for me, I want to ravage her.

“So sweet,” the woman says. “You both can have a seat right over there. I’ll let Mr. Wintz know you’re here, and he should be out shortly.”

When we turn, Lilah looks up at me with a smug smile. I can’t help but smirk.

She looks through the different magazines on the coffee table, pulling out a gossip one and flipping through the pages. I watch her from the corner of my eye, noting how relaxed she is.

She’s so much more like me than I originally thought.

Calculated. Cunning.

Lilah is amazing.

A couple hours later, we’re on our way to New Hampshire to spend the night because Lilah has never been.

It was a conversation that came up while on our tour of White Oaks with Mr. Wintz, who was such a pushover, it was pathetic.

He showed us around the place on his fancy golf cart, explaining things about the facilities that went in one ear and out the other.

I only started listening when he went on about some of the families who live there—including James Erickson.

Apparently, the people in the community feel safer knowing there is a cop who lives within the gates.

If only they knew he’s the reason a serial killer is now inside, I doubt they’d feel the same way.

We drove by James’ house two different times, but it didn’t give me much of anything. The place is locked down thoroughly, and though that sucks, it helps me figure out my plan.

I’m going to have to find my brother another way. Meaning, I need to do some more digging on him. After driving around, talking with the manager, and looking up information online, I’ve learned White Oaks is as safe as they claim.

There are plenty of hotels and bed and breakfasts to stay at in New Hampshire.

I let Lilah pick, since this experience is all for her.

She chooses one in Concord that looks like a castle, which isn’t far from Boston.

If I cared about money, this would be a waste; spending so much just to sleep an hour from home.

But the smile on Kitten’s face when we pull up to the hotel is priceless.

I book us a room, the nicest one they have, and we’re chaperoned to it because apparently people who stay here get lost. As if following directions is difficult. But I guess to the average person, it is.

We have nothing with us since we didn’t plan on staying the night anywhere when we left the house. I’ll have clothes delivered to us. This doesn’t seem like an area that would typically do that, but when money talks, people listen.

“You know what I think?” Lilah says, as she spins in a wistful circle in the middle of the room.

“What’s that?” I ask, humored.

She holds her arms out wide and falls backwards onto the bed.

“I think you should fuck me right here.” She pats the bed, then looks at me with a smile.

I’m tempted. So tempted. But I don’t think she’s fixed yet.

I have no idea why I care so much what she thinks or how she feels.

It’s been a long time since I fucked someone, and I’m sure fucking her will be great.

Better than anyone before, because she’s her and there’s something between us.

But something is stopping me; something is making me care. It doesn’t feel right yet.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

“Atty, come on,” she whines, slapping her hands on the bed.

I go to her, leaning over her body and kissing her perfect lips.

“How about I let you ride my face?”

She frowns, gripping my biceps and pulling me closer so my body presses hers into the mattress.

“I want to feel you inside me.” She leans up to lick my neck but pauses abruptly. She lies back down, looking at me with narrowed eyes. “Are you a virgin?”

I huff out a laugh, rolling over to lie beside her.

“No, Kitten. I am not a virgin.”

She groans. “Well, that would have made sense.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy that I don’t want to fuck you just because you want me to?”

Huffing, she says, “I guess.”

Turning onto my side, I kiss her cheek and prop my elbow on the bed and rest my head on my hand.

My other hand slips into her jeans and beneath her panties.

Her skin is so smooth, so soft, so delicious.

She moans when I find her clit, pressing on it before going further down to find her soaked.

I drag my fingers back up, circling her clit.

“Atty,” she moans.

“I will always take care of you,” I whisper, brushing my lips along her jaw. “In every way you need. You’re mine, Kitten.”

“I want… you,” she breathes out.

“You have me.”

“But I… Mm, that feels good.”

“Be patient with me,” I say, watching her hips rise from the bed. “Please,” I add, before kissing her neck, then sucking on her skin.

“Oh… oh… kay!” Her body trembles as her pussy pulses. She moans out her release, mumbling my name and how good it feels. She smiles when she comes down from her high, turning to me with a drunken look. “Okay,” she repeats, leaning in to kiss my lips. “Anything you want, Atty.”