|Deacon|I'm back at work but it's hard to fucking concentrate on anything else except for Mr. fucking Nobody showing back up to ruin my motherfucking life. Hasn't he done enough?It's not enough that he ruined my fücking marriage, but now he's out for my son and soon it'll be Myla. I know how his fücking mind works by now; I fucking should anyway. I've been working for the man for almost half of my fucking life, but still don't know his identity. Luca has put me on strict desk work, which means I'm not allowed in the fucking field anytime soon, and looking at these gray walls of HQ is getting real fucking old. He wants me back to a hundred percent before he sends me out there, and technically, I can't blame him. For now, I'm stuck doing fucking paperwork, research, and other boring shit. While I'm sitting here going through phone records for some fucking case, I decided to check my phone to see if I can get a glimpse of my sweet fucking Myla. Sure the fuck enough, when I pull up the
MylaTravis keeps bugging me for a picture of me so he can show his friend his "dad's girlfriend."I guess they don't believe him that his father finally found someone, so I give in and let him snap a selfie of the two of us as we stand in the foyer, right in the entryway to his house. Deacon is taking care of some things, and getting everything ready for our little trip away; just the two of us. I'm excited, although shocked that he actually asked me to go with him. He hasn't told me where we're going just yet, he said the suspense is the best part. For him maybe, but for me, the fucking suspense is killing me. He's been a little off the last couple of days and way more aggressive than usual, but every time I ask him if he's okay he tells me yeah, and that he doesn't want to talk about himself. It bums me the fuck out but I don't let it get to me that much; I try not to anyway."How are things going with my dad, Myla?" He asks out of the blue as he puts all his papers together and cl
DeaconMy cock is screaming at me and throbbing so fucking hard at the fact that I just fucking told Myla what I do in my spare time, and it turned her the fuck on. I throw her on the bed, and there's nothing fucking gentle about it either. She lands and bounces on the mattress, looking up at me through her long, dark lashes as she bites her bottom fucking lip in nervous desire. She watches me rip my fucking clothes off without even blinking."Are you sure you don't wanna run the fuck away yet, Myla?"I pick up my knife on the nightstand and fling it open, revealing the shiny, sharp blade as I put it to her fucking stomach, slowly sliding it up under her damn shirt. I watch as she swallows hard and fucking slow, keeping her eyes on my fucking knife instead of on me like they were. "What are you doing with that, Deac?"I press the cold blade to her skin, watching as goosebumps prick it and she shivers. Her nipples poke through her fucking shirt, hig
~Myla~The silence on the ride to our weekend getaway killed me, so I ended up taking a damn nap with blank dreams. Deacon never spoke a word about the "job" he had to handle at the nightclub, and I never asked, even though it was the only thing on my mind until I fell asleep. I know he's mad and beside himself about the fact that I know his secret, but honestly, it was fucking inevitable, really.He probably thinks I look at him differently too, and to be honest, I do. Not in a bad way, though, but yeah it terrifies me a little bit, knowing I'm in love and fücking a murderer, but there's a part of me that knows he'd never hurt me. Then again, there's a part of me that thinks what if one day I become his next "job" and what if he does end up having to kill me, or decides to kill me because I know too much?I'd like to think that the part of me that thinks that is wrong, but you really never know until it's too late.I feel a nudge on my shoulder and a little shake, so I try to sit up
MylaOn our second day at the cabin, Deacon brings me over to the field of sunflowers that brighten up the sky, standing as tall as I am. His mood has shifted, his angry persona has molded into sweetness, and his smile is finally back. We didn't talk about the events that took place on Halloween, we sort of just forgot about them even though the murder is still in the front of my mind. He asked me not to pry, so I chose not to ask him, trying to abide by his wishes so we can have a good weekend. He walks over to me from the back of the cabin, carrying a gun in each of his hands. The deadly smirk on his face sends chills throughout my body and heat rushing between my thighs. Clenching them doesn't rid the pleasurable ache that's there, but if I'm being honest, I haven't been able to get rid of said ache since I first laid eyes on Deacon. I watch his stride and keep my eyes fixated on his, standing still as I wait for him to get closer to me. When he approaches me, stopping about a foo
~Deacon~I finger the picture, running the pad of my thumb over Myla's face, trying to get my breathing under control and the anxious fear gripping me to ease up. He was in the fucking shower with her. How could I not have fucking known he was here? A piercing scream rips through my eardrums, freezing me into place. Another scream sounds loudly from the bedroom, and I drop the picture to the floor of the cabin, taking off like a fucking bat out of hell to make sure that Myla is alright. I bust through the fucking door so hard it rips off the hinges, but I can fix that shit later. My heart races but calms slightly when I spot Myla standing on the bed, still wrapped in her towel, fearful of something on the floor. At least she's okay, though, and Mr. Nobody didn't take her. I walk around the side of the bed to see a giant snake coiled up, his head pointing at Myla with his fangs showing in anger."Careful, Deacon! It's a snake!""But you're okay, right?" "Yeah, just petrified."I smile
~Deacon~"Hey old man. Good to have you home." Travis greets me the second I walk downstairs from my fucking bedroom, his little girlfriend Nova sleeping quietly on my fucking couch. I don't even have a chance to register what's fucking happening before he's giving me a fucking look like he's up to no good. When the fuck did they get back? And how fucking long was I asleep for? The clock on the wall, ticking loudly and annoyingly, reads well past three am. I shake my head, my plan of killing Tristan tonight going straight out the fucking window. More annoying is the fuckin little girl on my couch and my son in my face, when his fuckin ass should be asleep right now. Shit, I wasn't even supposed to pick him up till tomorrow. I brush past him and stumble into the kitchen to get a drink, trying to quench my fucking thirst and wet my dry mouth. "What are you doing home, Trav?I shield my eyes from the bright light of the fridge when I swing it open, snatching an ice-cold bottle of water
~Deacon~Finally pulling up to the secret spot where I've decided to keep Tristan, I let the smile stay curled on my lips as I cut the engine off and pop the trunk button. I slip a cigarette between my lips and light it as I make the short walk to the back of my fucking car, anxious as fuck to get this bastard out and inside so the fucking fun can begin. I puff hard and blow the cloud of smoke into thin air, watching it evaporate into the black sky that hangs above me. I open the trunk and grin harder. I take my cigarette and press it to the skin on his cheek, leaving polka-dot burns along his jawline, just because I fucking want to. I take the empty syringe I used to inject him with and pull the cap off with my teeth. His eyes water and widen but he still can't move. Feeling the evil seep from my fucking pores, I pry his mouth open and pull out his tongue, jabbing the long, sharp needle through the center of it, making sure it goes right through. And then I do it again. and again. and