Page 27 of Wicked Riddles & Bitter Heartbeats (Till Death Do Us Part #1)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Atticus

I have to give it to Lilah.

She’s amazing at choosing people to kill.

Though Jebson street is a short dead-end with eleven houses on it, she picked the best victim possible. The internet and me aren’t the best of friends. I know how to look for the basics, but Lilah knows how to dig for the good stuff.

Neil Razzoni’s house is halfway up the street but pushed toward the back of the property and surrounded by tall trees, while the rest of the houses are closer to the road.

This means I don’t have to worry about neighbors looking through the windows.

Which means I get to have more fun and take my time.

If I want my brother to take notice, I have to make this messy.

I have to pull out all my best tricks to get his attention and show him how truly amazing I am.

The house is dark when we reach it, and I already know breaking into houses while the potential victim is sleeping is going to get old.

I love seeing the shock on their faces when they see me.

Though, I suppose I could wake them up before going right for the kill.

Now isn’t the time to be creative. In fact, keeping things the same would make more sense.

This way the police can put together that it’s the same person doing the murders, which is what I want.

I wonder, not for the first time, if my brother knows about me at all. If he knows he has another half who was given up while he got to stay. It wouldn’t change anything for me. He has the means to find me, had he wanted to. And if he didn’t know about me, well, he’s still an asshole.

This moron, Neil, leaves his back door unlocked. In this city? He’s asking to be murdered.

As Lilah and I step into the house that smells like rotten food and mold, shouting starts behind us and Lilah grabs onto my arm, blowing out a slow breath.

“Shh,” I tell her softly, shutting the door.

The people outside, in the yard enclosed in a tall fence behind this one, keep arguing.

We aren’t far from my brother’s fancy gated community, but you’d think we were in another city with the way it’s day and night.

His neighborhood is safe. This one… you don’t want to walk alone down the street during the day light, never mind once the sun goes down.

The kitchen we walk into is small, dishes piled to the ceiling, and old food on the table. Down the hall, light flickers from a TV. Trash is all over the floor, as if no one has ever cleaned.

The cops are going to have a hell of a time checking this place for evidence and prints, which works in my favor.

I give Lilah a soft kiss on the head then peel her hand off my arm and gesture for her to stay behind me. She gives me a firm nod, all nerves gone.

I watch where I step as I move down the short hall and into the living room. So many of these houses out here have the same layouts, it makes breaking into a house less appealing.

There’s a man on the couch, in nothing but a pair of ripped and stained boxers.

His beer gut has red crumbs on it, a bag of chips on his side, and his hair has enough grease to start a fire.

Porn plays on the TV, and I do a double take when I see it’s some step daughter bullshit.

Wouldn’t have a problem with it if the girl didn’t look like she was in middle school. Sick fucks.

There’s a coffee table in front of him. It’s made of wood, with burn marks and scratch marks. On it, sits a tall bong, a handgun, a bag of weed, and a cell phone. Typical Boston douchebag.

I pick up the gun, not intending to use it, but wanting to have some fun with it. I check that it’s loaded before moving to stand in front of Neil and aiming it right at his forehead.

“Hello, Neil,” I say.

His eyes pop open and he jerks away. There’s nowhere to go, since he’s sitting on the couch.

“What the fuck? Who the fuck are you?” he bellows.

“Atticus St. Claire,” I tell him. What’s the harm? He’ll be dead in a few minutes

“Atti- what ? Get the fuck out of my house, prick!” he growls. “You don’t know who you’re fucking with!”

Ah, the threats. I love those. Of all the people I’ve killed, not a single person has come after me for it.

I tsk, shaking my head. “Rude way to speak to guests.”

“You’re no fucking guest,” he spits out, lunging forward but I cock the gun, and he freezes. “You won’t fucking do it.”

“You’re right,” I say with a smile. “I won’t do it. Guns are stupid. I’m going to kill you with my bare hands so I can feel your blood drip down my palms.”

“You sick motherfuc—”

I give him a quick jab in the nose, which causes him to shut up. At least, stop speaking words because now he’s whining in pain. I roll my eyes. Fucking pussy.

“That was so hot,” Lilah says.

I glance over my shoulder to find her standing in the hall watching me with hearts in her eyes. Good girl .

“If you were a good person, I may be sorry about this,” I say as I pick up a belt I spot on the floor. I loop it, then put it around Neil’s head and slap his hand away from his nose.

“What the fucking fuck you fucking asshole!”

I yank on the belt, pulling it tight and he chokes, gripping the belt and trying to get it off. I put my boot on his chest, pressing him into the couch while tugging harder. He flails his arms, kicks his feet, does just about everything he can to get me off him, but he’s weak as hell.

“See, you’re just a pawn in this game, but you’ll go down in history. I’ll forever be grateful for you. Because without you, my brother will never know I exist.”

Neil can still breathe, though I know it isn’t easy. He’s panicking because he isn’t getting enough oxygen. This will make him pass out eventually. Freaking out is making it worse.

“I found this,” Lilah says, coming up beside me. Neil’s eyes widen when he sees her.

I grin. “I know. She’s fucking hot, right?” I tug tighter and his mouth drops open, hands moving more frantically.

Lilah hands me a spoon that’s serrated on the end. I have no idea what this is used for but…

“This is perfect,” I say, looking at Neil. “It’s the perfect shape to scoop his eyeballs out.”

I wasn’t sure his eyes could bug out more, but they do.

Lilah sucks in a slow breath. “Can I do it?” I look at her, eyes narrowed. “Please, Atty? I’ve always wanted to.”

Blinking a few times, I say, “Have you?”

“Yes.” She nods hurriedly. “I don’t really know why, it just seems… fun.”

I’ve never scooped eyeballs out of someone’s head before and it’s not something I care much about. She is right though, it does seem like fun. But I’ll get more enjoyment out of seeing her happy than doing it myself.

“Be my guest, Kitten,” I say, handing her the spoon back.

She grins wide, moving closer to Neil. I hold my arm out, stopping her.

“I need to do something about his hands. If he touches you, I’ll have to cut them off.”

“Would that be so bad?” she asks.

I huff out a laugh. “No, but I didn’t bring tools to cut through bone.”

Neil grunts, fighting a little harder.

Looking around the room, I try to find something I can use to tie his hands. When I spot it, I tell Lilah to go get it. When she brings me back the clothesline rope, I tell her to grab the gun and hold it to his head.

“If you try to get up, she will shoot you,” I tell him, loosening the belt. He’s too busy focusing on breathing to care about what I’m doing to his hands. Besides, they’re probably numb and not working due to the lack of oxygen. I tie them tightly together, cutting off circulation.

When his hands are tied, I tug on the belt again, causing him to choke. Lilah gets closer, a wicked smile on her face as she goes toward him with the spoon. She turns it this way and that way, then looks at me over her shoulder.

“How do I do this?”

“Come on, Kitten,” I say. “You can figure it out.”

She frowns, huffs, then turns back to Neil.

Her hand goes to his forehead, to hold him in place while she steps onto the couch.

He’s jerking his head back and forth, wiggling his body, trying to breathe and get away.

He’s not putting up a very good fight, and I wonder if he’s high off something that isn’t weed.

There isn’t a lot of fight coming out of him, which is disappointing.

“Stop moving,” Lilah complains. She growls, then jabs the spoon at him. He yelps loudly, bucking his hips and kicking his feet. I tug tighter on the belt and shift my stance, catching sight of the spoon stuck under his left eye.

“Keep going,” I tell her calmly. “It’s not out yet.”

“But he’s moving.”

I shrug. “You wanted to do this.”

Her expression turns determined and she goes back to him, finagling the spoon around his eye and effectively popping it out.

It looked easier than I expected it to. Kind of gruesome too, seeing the dark hole in his face, blood pouring from it.

If he were able to breathe, he’d be yelling, but I’m choking him so tightly he can’t make a sound.

I give him a minute before he passes out.

“That was so much fun, Atty.”

“Well, he has one more.”

She moves around me, to get a better angle at his other eye. With one knee on the couch, she leans over him… and he passes out. His body goes limp.

“Aww,” she whines. “What a pussy.” Still, she goes in and scoops that eye out like she’s done it a hundred times before and drops it onto the floor near where the other one landed. Only then do I let go of the belt.

I go into the kitchen, find a knife, and stab him a handful of times around the area of his chest that my boot was pressing against. Hopefully it’ll cut and bruise enough of him that they won’t be able to tell my foot was there.

It would be difficult to make a connection to me in the first place, but I don’t need them to have anything if they were to do that.

So with knife wounds to the chest and two eyes scooped out, I’m pretty sure he’s dead.

But there’s one last thing I need to do before I leave. With the tip of the knife, right over Neil’s heart, I carve a heart. And inside, I sign the letter A.