Wanted

by Lauren Biel

I was too old for this shit. Who starts meth at thirty-five? Someone who went through a messy divorce. A man who lost everything he ever worked for. The drugs started as an escape and transformed into somewhere I wanted to live.

“Rule number one of using a firearm for self-defense . . . know what condition your gun is in,” I scolded her.

“Don’t apologize for trying to defend yourself,” I told her as I helped her off the floor. Her hands flew down to cover her black panties. “But I will put a bullet through your pretty head if you pull shit like that again. So thanks for this.”

It fucking burned like the devil’s asshole when she poured the alcohol over my wound. I puffed out my cheeks and tried not to scream out. My jaw ached from the pressure as I tensed it. “Man up, killer,” she said with a sneer, and it made my lips twitch upward. I wouldn’t let them go all the way into a smile, though, and neither would she as she poured more of that hellish liquid into my cut.

“You've rearranged my entire house. You're paranoid. You’re out of control. And I'm going to take a fucking shower.” She gestured to her face and hand—now covered in blood—and to her red-stained shirt. She stormed off, leaving me too shocked to chase after her.

“You're going to find yourself with little control very soon. Even less than you have now.” Fuck me. She was right about that. Pretty soon I'd suck the devil's dick for a hit of ice. The frustration and anger would become unbearable as my body fought my mind. But also, fuck her for thinking I'd force her now.

“I did monstrous things, but I'm not a monster.”

“That’s even worse than calling me a little girl,” she said with a curl of her lip. “I’m not a little girl, but I’m certainly no ma’am either.”

I never wanted to forget the two people I killed. I wanted them to sully my memory every day that I lived and they didn’t.

I needed something between work-obsessed and weak-and-drug-addicted and fearless. Some nice happy medium. Somewhere in the middle of boredom and chaos. Something kind of like this goddamn shirt.

“I love how this is inciting more emotion from you than me being a murderer.”

“I know you enough to know I wouldn’t be able to get this close to you if you didn’t want to let me inside you,” I growled into her ear before biting her neck.

It would be absolutely fucking insane to fall for the damsel I put in distress.

She would do anything to get me off her, even if it meant getting off from me.

I didn’t know how she would feel once the pleasure melted away from her body and she remembered the man who was between her legs was the monster that forced his way into her home.

She stirred something primal inside me. I wanted nothing more than to please her and make her come as I selfishly took her. I’d never felt such things in my life, and I was almost certain she hadn't either.

“And I’m sorry I don’t feel worse about it, because you feel like home. You feel safe.”

I just pushed my fingers deeper into her and ate her like she was the last thing I’d ever eat. Like a man on death row. I was preparing to leave, but not without a belly full of her.

I loved her, but I couldn’t love her.

Vanessa awoke a beast in me. One that still couldn’t look at her without wanting to rip her clothes off. One that still snuck up on her to catch her off guard, to feel that moment of fear before I fucked her. I wasn’t the only one who had a beast, though. Mine roared and hers purred.

I’d never have guessed that an act done during the lowest moment of my life would take me to heaven instead of hell and make an angel fall in love with a demon. Or awaken a beast that played so well with hers.