Jeff The Killer: Go To Sleep Novels & Stories

Over my fence, kill whoever gets in my way, get the documents and bolt, just fucking bolt. I'm a fucking genius! I'm a killer who has brains and always knows a good plan. Ha! I decided to take a bath and sleep till it's time for my mission. My fucking amazing plan. This is it; I'm slowly approaching my dreams. I can freaking smell it! No one can stop me, NO ONE! After a long bath, I wore my night dress and let the darkness take me wherever it wanted me to be in. *Dream* "Get your hands off her please. Take me instead. I will do anything." The woman who held me cried bitterly.

’ the message reads. ‘But he was unconscious. How can he kill someone when he is unconscious?’ Elizabeth just can't get the pieces together. He was unconscious when the police arrested him. He didn't know what was happening until he woke up in the hospital. What if Jeffery is not the one that kills the cleaner? But who could have killed the cleaner? Does Jeffrey have another enemy? But why would the enemy act from their own plan? ‘I don't know. I wonder so too. Maybe he woke up and through the effects of the drugs he killed the cleaner and fell back to unconsciousness. But I will still look into it, but whatever the case maybe, our plan was successful.’

Jeff asked him while Ken helped him walk to the bed because he was already at the verge of falling down . Tony remained mute and as soon as his butt touched the bed he fell down on it and slept off .. He knew this would make Jeff and Ken not to bug him tonight. By tomorrow he would think of an answer to give them because he would be in a better state than this . Jeff sighed as he saw Tony had fallen asleep . Ken bent down and pulled out the shoe he was putting on while Jeff loosened up his shirt button . Ken dropped the shoes at the extreme of the room and took of his trousers leaving him in only his briefs .

“You're treating me like trash, Jeff. I came to you with my grievances, and you promised to help me. The first attempt didn’t yield a thing, so what next?! I want Jessica White dead. What is stopping you from killing her?” A masculine voice I assume belongs to Jefferson, and lets out a gruff laughter. “You are so naïve and clueless. What was I expecting anyway? The daughter of a murderer will always long for blood even though she can't even wield a sword.” “Oh, please, getting rid of that girl is not hard-” “Why don’t you do it yourself, then?” Jefferson snaps. “Huh? Rhea Luther, if you think it's just ABC, then do your dirty work yourself!”

“I’m talking about your plan with Pete Milestone. The zip ties, water, and sleeping pills in your car tells a different story, Jeff. Were you supposed to deliver me for your payment? Did it make you feel like a big, strong man to pin that murder on me?” Jefferson shook his head. “That fucking bitch just had to keep her mouth shut!” “Yeah … she left you for the same reason she left me. She really doesn’t condone murder, except yours. She knows I’m going to kill you and she’s upstairs right now, having a drink with my brothers. Who knows, she might even fuck one of them before the night’s over.” “He’ll be looking for me,” Jefferson said, and spat on the floor.

Jules replied flatly. Jeffrey raised an eyebrow. “Friend? And you two are sleeping together?” Jules narrowed his eyes. “Who said anything about sleeping together?” Jeffrey shrugged. “You walked out naked expecting her. Come on, you guys are definitely sleeping together.” Jules didn’t bother answering that. “Why are you here, though? Planning to steal from your sister?” “Yes,” Jeffrey said without hesitation. Before Jules could process the sarcasm, Jeffrey jumped to his feet and bolted toward the bedroom.

"I don't want you to bleed me out while you sleep with me, Claude. That doesn't do it for me." Images of stabbing the fork into his thigh flash unbidden into his mind. I truly hope he's forgotten about that. I have to stretch my fingers out to expel the phantom feeling. "Ah, well I can make an exception and have vanilla sex for you," he says, as if his offer is supposed to be construed and chivalrous. "What are you even doing in this pack?" I question, looking back at the front door. I'm paranoid that the man that marked me is going to stroll in here shortly after. Then I'll really need to make a run for it.

Quinn pushed open her apartment door, Jax right behind her. His hands were already on her hips, pulling her close as the door clicked shut. She kicked off her shoes and turned, lips crashing into his. They stumbled toward the bedroom, her shirt hit the floor first, then his and fell onto the bed, her on top. "Fuck me," she whispered, voice rough from the day's grind. Being a detective isn't easy, let alone a homicide detective. Jax gripped her from behind, guiding her down. She sank onto him, inch by inch, moaning as he filled her. "Don't worry, detective Hale... I'll fuck all the stress out of you."

I snort at the absurdity of my so-called choices, my sarcasm masking the dread clawing at my insides. He tilts his head, studying me for a moment before nodding. "This will be over in a few minutes. Stay calm," he advises, his voice disturbingly soothing as he sifts through his collection of knives. Psychopath. "How about we fake the injuries? Makeup bruises and cuts?" I suggest, kneeling beside him, trying to decipher his next move. He looks up, his expression deadpan. "Yeah, because the mafia is renowned for our grade A makeup artists and fake threats," he retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I roll my eyes, more out of frustration than anything else.

Blurb “I knew you were lying the moment you lifted that wine glass and your hand shook. Now tell me—who the hell are you?” Misha Smirnov has spent her entire life trying to earn a single glance of approval from the father who never wanted her. After her stepsister nearly kills her and steals her modeling debut, after her childhood friend-turned-fiancé climbs into bed with the same stepsister, Misha is left with nothing but a server’s apron and a mountain of debt. One catastrophic shift at the restaurant lands her in the path of Nikolai Dimitri—the unreachable billionaire, the most eligible bachelor in Russia, and the man whose blind date she is forced to crash. She rejects him with open c