The Trouble with Trying to Date a Murderer (Murder Sprees and Mute Decrees #1)

by Jennifer Cody

Once upon a time, a mute boy fell in love with an unapologetic murderer.

As the last person dropped with a death gurgle, the cook rang the bell. “Order up!” The man, breathing hard and covered in the crimson flow of life and death—i.e., blood—looked at me, straightened his back, and adjusted his armory. “Can I get that to go?” And that’s how I ended up boxing up a murderer’s breakfast and possibly falling in love, because even though he wasn’t particularly handsome or incredibly charming, he was competent and self-possessed, and if no one ever told you that confidence is sexy, then allow me to be the first: confidence is sexy. Full stop. I don’t care what you look like or if you have a bad personality or if you’re homely. Confidence. Is. Sexy.

“A Tramp Abroad by Mark Twain.” I spin in my chair at Mach 3, turning toward the familiar voice behind me. Oh my god. The man! Right there in front of the librarian, still sporting more weapons than any one person should need. Obviously he needs them, but still.

The man spins, immediately spotting and completely disregarding me. I mean, I don’t blame him. I’m not all that memorable, but still. My hopeful, little, romantic heart gives a twinge at being so easily forgotten. Ouch, Future Husband. Ouch.

I roll my eyes at the guy and point to my ruined clothes. He glances down at them, and I raise my fingers, rubbing them together to indicate he owes me money for a new outfit. He doesn’t, and I let my amused smirk speak for itself. My teasing earns me a small smile before he stalks over to me and hands me another hundred-dollar bill. I give him a bright smile and that’s it. He grabs a book off the floor, shakes the blood off it, and leaves. Damn that man is fine.

“Don’t do it.” Holymotherfuckingshit. I look up so fast, I’m pretty sure I give myself whiplash. The guy is on the subway! Future husband!

I guess my future husband’s name or moniker is Fox since that’s the second person to call him that. Fitting. The man is a total fox. Not a silver fox yet, he needs a few years for the silver to start coming into his dark hair, but I can totally see him as a sexy silver fox in about a decade, and I’m so here for that.

I stand up and check my clothes, unsurprised to find them in ruins again and sigh as the train starts slowing down for the next stop. Looking around at the bodies I hang my head and shake my fist at Fox. If he weren’t the love of my life, I’d be a bit more piqued, but I guess I’m just glad he’s alive.

Since I walk to this grocery store occasionally, I don’t mind the distance and figure he probably parked this far out so that no one would know where to look for my body if he’s going to kill me. I don’t think he is. I have no reason not to think so, but I trust my gut, and my gut tells me we’re going to have a long and sexy love affair, not that he’s going to kill me for having really bad luck.

I guess I could practice my letters instead of reading about gay pirates pillaging the tightest holes on the high seas…but gay pirates are way more interesting than wobbly script written by a guy who can’t tell if he’s right or left-handed.

There’s no way I’m dumb enough to get involved with a man known for his ability to murder people in groups and not make him aware of the people giving me too much attention. I’m basically his responsibility at this point. I’ll bring joy to his deadly life and he will protect me, and that’s a totally fair exchange.

I probably look like his sugar daddy, which makes me huff with delight. At my silent laughter, Fox looks down at me with a question in his eyes. I indicate my outfit and his and look around us at the people giving us looks. He follows my eyes and releases his own amused huff. “I’m not calling you ‘Daddy,’” he murmurs, barely audible.

I grew up in a cult that was murdered by the leader when I was ten. Then one of the boys in one of the homes I was in when I was seventeen decided to kill everyone who ever picked on him. Obviously I’d never teased him aloud, so I wasn’t one of his targets. He killed fifteen kids and five adults before offing himself. So I already had two massacres under my belt when you showed up to the diner. And, why would I be afraid of you? You’re competent. You’re not going to *accidentally* kill me.

I am going to marry the man, and yeah, maybe we haven’t even kissed yet, but that is going to happen and then we’ll move on to hand jobs and eventually fucking, and between all that physical stuff we’ll get to know each other and fall in love, and he’ll give me the biggest diamond engagement ring I’ve ever seen and we’ll get married and live happily ever after.

Fox takes a seat on one of the sofas away from the table, and then the man pulls me into his lap. I like where this is going. Hand-holding and lap-sitting are totally things we should do. Giving him my happiest smile, I kiss his cheek again, because he should be rewarded when he treats me in the way in which I want to become accustomed.

Holy hotness. I love the way he’s looking at me. No one ever has ever looked at me like that before, and I didn’t even know what I was missing before now. Possessive alpha type? Yes, please. Sign this mute boy up!

so instead of letting the warm, wet, sucking, delicious kisses push me into acting like an omega in heat (yes, I do in fact read all sorts of trashy romance. Why do you ask?),

Trashy??

I just take a seat on the arm of one of the couches, pull out my phone again, and start reading. I came, I showed myself, I took a seat, and now I get to read until Fox arrives.

I can probably get a few pages read. The guys are just about to fuck for the first time, and I really want to know if the jock’s going to have a gay freakout. I love gay freakouts. They’re hilarious.

He doesn’t know that I am considering the possibility of a slumber party in his bed, but I’ll figure out a way to tell him if I decide to sleep with him, even if I just make a show of crawling into his bed.

I’ll have to replace it, but spending that kind of money on a new suit will teach me to keep my hands off Fox after he’s been working; I’m nothing if not tight-fisted and frugal with my own money. Some might call me beggarly. Look it up, it’s a synonym for being a Scrooge. Yes, I like puns. Get with the program; I’m like the ultimate dad joke waiting to happen.

I give him a lascivious grin, deliberately letting my eyes travel over all that deliciousness. I would have probably even made it to his feet if my gaze hadn’t gotten caught on his cock.

Not for that reason, you perv. Well, not only for that reason. I mean, it’s a gorgeous cock, long and thick and just about right as far as I can tell, but that’s not what stops me from taking in the all-of-him. No, my attention snags on the fact that my man is castrated. No balls. No hint of a sack. Nothing at all. What. The actual. Fuck?

Fox and I are going to have some fun conversations soon. I can't wait to find out what happened to his balls and why his skin smokes when touched by chicken wire, and also why there’s no evidence of burns now.

Clearly Fox isn’t one hundred percent human, so now I have to figure out what he is, and I can't think of any mythical creatures that keep their testicles somewhere other than right below their dicks.

People say it’s the thought that counts, but if you don’t know what your person wants, you should think about letting them pick it themselves. That thought definitely counts.

“Diamonds. Cufflinks, pocket watch, tie pin, collar chain, pocket brooch, and engagement ring.” Fox gives me a level look. “The ring is for later.” Of course it is; that does not stop me from jumping into his arms and kissing the ever-loving shit out of him. I love it when the important people get on board with my plans.

Proving that he knows me well enough to pick out my engagement ring, Fox points to the three biggest diamonds the manager brings out and then asks if he can get anything bigger. And he said humans didn’t have fated mates.

Honestly, if I didn’t know that no one could attack me and steal my shit, I would be nervous about walking out of the jewelers wearing this much money on my body and carrying a matching silver set in a pretty bag. Fortunately, no one is getting my riches as long as I don’t attack them and negate my protection magic. Sorry, Fox, you’re on your own if you get caught in another trap. I can’t help; I have too many diamonds to protect now. Fox huffs a laugh after reading my message and wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Protect the jewels; they're almost as valuable as me.”

I give him a skeptical look, which makes him have to hide his laughter by kissing me. It’s a smiling kiss, and I love the way our grins fit together.

by kissing me. It’s a smiling kiss, and I love the way our grins fit together. “I suspect you’re going to like them as much as you like Annette,” he assures me, and since we both know I would be marrying that woman if she’d found me first, that’s some high praise for his parents.

Oh wait. Are you glamoured? “Yes,” Fox whispers with a laugh. “Did you think I was walking around unaccosted because I’m handsome?” Honestly, I thought it was because people are stupid and would rather think you’re cosplaying than that you have the confidence to walk around the city with actual guns and ammo visible. “You’re not wrong about people,” he admits softly.

Well, it’s crazy how dramatically better my life has gotten in the last three days. I mean, I’m now sporting diamonds as part of my uniform. That’s a Cinderella story if I ever heard one, right? Do you think I’m Cinderella? Fox reads my message and shakes his head, clearing his mouth before replying. “Flynn Ryder.” I think about that for a minute and shrug. Ok, Rapunzel.

Fox better make it out of this battle whole, or we’re going to have words about his life choices. Alive and whole is better than badass and dead.

There is a lot to unpack in that random supply of information, but now is not the time.

We are almost 50% in, when will it be time to tell us what the freak is going on??

do. I knew the man liked me, obviously; he bought me diamonds for fuck’s sake. I didn’t realize the depth of his affection.

Im confused cause he doesnt know you

Deadpan as anything, “I have to make up for the words you refuse to use.” I widen my eyes and drop my jaw, exaggerating shock and offense on behalf of my disability.

Did all of you donate to create Fox or what? What? Mpreg is a thing in some of the books I read. If I can have a magic ward keeping me basically indestructible, males can have babies. That’s all I’m saying.

Tag rubs Amos’ belly affectionately. “Yes, we did, and Amos carried our son for almost a full century, but of course our boy was a bit eager to get into the world. He came three full years early. Scared the shit out of all of us, but he was a strong baby.”

Imagine being preggo for a hundred years

I widen my eyes at Fox, conveying in no uncertain terms that no one is going to be pregnant for a century, especially not me. Fox gives me a flat look and subtly shakes his head, agreeing with me that we’ll adopt when the time comes. At least that’s how I’m interpreting that look, and no one is going to convince me otherwise.

a free meal. Damn, I’m bitchy this morning. The text from the depot informs me I have an hour and a half to get across the city, so I get my crabby ass out of the warm bed and into a hot shower. When I get out, a steaming cup of creamy coffee sits on the counter, waiting for me, and I swear that’s the moment I fall in actual love with Arlington Fox.

Ungh. His cock is delectable. I’m so going to get it in my mouth tonight. And so help the depot if they interrupt...oh. Hmmm. I wonder if that will work? Me: I am getting laid tonight, so if anyone needs to die, they’ll have to wait for Fox until tomorrow or die by someone else’s hand. Depot: What time? Me: Starting at 8 PM. Depot: Until? Me: 8 AM? Depot: Noted. Twelve hour sexcation confirmed. Huh. It worked. I totally got us off the clock for twelve full hours! Go me! Fox: Did you tell the depot we’re taking a sexcation? Me: Yup! Fox: … Fox: Good call. Me: *grin* *peach* *eggplant* *waterdrops* *drool* Fox: Emojis exist. Me: But this way you know I’ve intentionally sexted you. Fox: Valid.

I pull my book back up and dive back into the nerd-jock ridiculousness. FYI, jock did in fact have a gay freakout. It was as funny as I thought it would be. I’m now at the eighty-percent break-up.

You know what I’m talking about: the characters break up for a couple chapters because of some stupid miscommunication. These two are doing the overheard-something-out-of-context break-up trope.

Me: Fox loves my puns! “No one loves puns,” Bellamy mutters. I scowl at him. Go read a Xanth novel, you cretin. Puns are hilarious.

This is the first real life xanth mention while the writer is a bad person, the puns were superb

Fox brings the bowls and scoops out our dessert, and in silent agreement he and I sit on either side of Bellamy, making sure he knows he can’t escape—I mean, that he’s welcome into our new little family.

“I’m not calling you ‘Dad.’” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Fox murmurs. “Call me ‘Oppa.’” Obviously I’m Papa. Fox nods approvingly as Bellamy looks at him with an expression of utter disbelief. “Your reputation is a bald-faced lie.” Fox taps the rim of Bellamy’s bowl. “Finish your ice cream. It’s past your bedtime.” “Please send me back to Santanos.”

A bang on our bedroom door almost makes me regret claiming the thirty-five-year-old punk on the other side of it. “Why am I getting a notice from the depot that I’m on naternity leave for two days? I don’t even work for the depot!” Bellamy calls through the door. I pick up my phone and text him. Me: 1. You realize that I can’t call back through the door, right? 2. Did you just say ‘naternity’? 3. New parents take leave all the time. We just want to make sure you get settled in before we have to go back to work. You were a surprise! We don’t even have a sitter lined up.

As I pour myself a cup from the coffee pot, I have to admit that fatherhood suits me; I already have my kid trained to provide caffeine and donuts. I’m amazing.

Basically, I adopt him, provide for his needs, and protect him, and Bellamy is allowed to function as a bodyguard for me and back up for Fox. It’s like taking a job that includes room and board and then your employer suddenly decides you’re family forever and ever and never lets you quit.