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Saving Grace (Misty Grove Book 2) by Paige, Victoria (23)








CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE


The Reaper


I watched Foster drive up in his pickup and park behind Kyra’s vehicle. The woman lived in a small subdivision just outside of Misty Grove. I could feel Foster’s rage from where I stood behind a large oak across the street.

“Kyra!” he shouted as he pounded on the entryway. “Open the door!” He kicked, hammered, and yelled—a man deranged. He continued for long minutes, going around the house and yelling from the yard. Foster had really lost it.

Kyra’s neighbors were standing off in a distance, not wanting to be caught in the man’s blind fury. Seriously, this man was a former assassin. He should never let his obsession with a woman make him act so recklessly. Even if this woman was Grace. My angel, my Grace. Foster was making this too easy for me.

I watched as a sheriff’s patrol car pulled up in front of the house. Obviously, the neighbors called 911. 

The deputy approached Foster cautiously, hand on his gun, and called out to the crazy man on the front lawn.

And then, to my glee, Foster sealed his fate. “You keep away from Grace, Kyra, or I’m going to fucking kill you!”

I watched Foster talk to the deputy, agreeing to walk away and leave. He got into his pickup and screeched out of the neighborhood.

The man was in love.

He was volatile.

And he was reckless.

I pushed away from the tree and walked down a couple of blocks to the house I had rented. Grace was pregnant with this man’s child, and he was going to marry her quickly. I was angry that I wasn’t ready to claim her. I experienced rage, but unlike Foster, I was careful not to leave witnesses to it. When I found out that the woman who was supposed to be mine was carrying Foster’s child, I almost killed Kyra with a lethal dose of heroin. 

I screwed her regularly for a few weeks, giving her small doses of the narcotic in the guise of harmless recreational drugs. She’d been a fountain of information. It was easy to manipulate her into thinking she was better for Foster than Grace. I had recently completed her transition into a junkie. The drug I used was a special kind of blend that caused severe hallucinations and violence. I had to bring her into my rental house because she was getting too unstable to leave unsupervised in her own home. I couldn’t risk her blurting out my plans to anyone.

I entered the two-story colonial house and went to the study. There, I withdrew a syringe and loaded it with a heroin dose. She should be jonesing for it now. The bitch had nearly blown my plans when she’d driven my car and cornered Grace. I nearly shot Kyra myself when I saw the standoff in front of Java Outpost. However, her actions were to my advantage.

I opened the door to the room where I kept her. I had to tie her to the bed this time since she’d become uncontrollable.

“Matt?”

“Yes, angel.” I kept the room almost dark as night so it would be easier to perpetuate her hallucinations.

“I wanted to kill her.” 

I stiffened. “You’ve been a bad girl, Kyra.”

“I won’t share you,” she sobbed. The bed creaked as she tested her bonds.

“I explained to you how it would be, baby,” I crooned as I planted a knee on the bed. “You’ll always have me. Don’t worry about Grace.”

I could feel her gaze find me in the dark.

“You’re not Matt,” she whispered. I smiled in the dark. Of course not. I wasn’t that pussy-whipped prick. 

“I have something for you, Kyra.” I turned on the lamp this time. It flashed brightly over her, and she was blinded, but it gave me the opportunity to hold her arm and find a vein I could use.

“I don’t want the drugs anymore,” she wrenched at the bonds again. “They make me itchy. I don’t feel like myself.”

“Shh …” I hushed as I plunged the needle in her flesh and delivered the drug. “You’re going to feel better soon.”

“I want to go home, Rick.”

Rick was the name I’d been using in my current disguise.

I didn’t answer.

“Who are you?” she asked.

I got up and turned off the lights, reaching for my belt buckle. “I’m whoever you want me to be.”

She giggled and then sighed. “Matt. I want you to be Matt.”

My jaw tightened. I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock, giving it a few pumps to get it erect. I hated to fuck addicts, but in this case, I needed to keep Kyra in line a bit longer. I tore a condom wrapper and slipped on the rubber. I freed her legs and pushed them up and apart. My hand went between her legs. She wasn’t wet enough, but I wasn’t in a generous mood.

I positioned my dick at her opening, grabbed her hips, and plunged in.

“Ahh!” she cried. “That hurts, Matt.”

“Do you want me to stop?” I mocked as I kept myself still.

“No,” she started crying. “Don’t leave me. Please untie me. I want to hold you.”

“No. I fuck you this way or not at all.”

She kept quiet and her legs fell open. I resumed thrusting between her thighs. I imagined it was Grace beneath me. As long as I didn’t look at Kyra’s face, I could trick my body into thinking that I was fucking the woman I wanted.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” I grunted as I pounded away at Grace. I thought about her green eyes and her plump lips. I would make her gag on my cock as she sucked me off. I couldn’t wait to carve her beautiful skin, and then I’d cut my arm too, and let her taste my blood. We’d be bound and maybe I wouldn’t have to kill her. But what about the baby?

My anger caught me by surprise, I grabbed the body I was fucking beneath me, hearing a surprised cry but I didn’t care. 

I was rutting like an animal, each grunt deeper than the last. I heard Grace begging me to stop. That it hurt too much. Bitch! She wouldn’t feel pain until I cut her child from her womb.

I roared as my climax hit me. My hands tightened on the limbs I was gripping as I emptied my frustration into the vessel that was supposed to be Grace.

Kyra.

“You yelled her name, you bastard,” she bucked her hips. “Get off me! Oh, God, get off me.”

“You wanted me to be Matt and Matt only wants Grace. Get that through your head,” I sneered, too angry to continue playing these mind games. Maybe I wasn’t better than Foster and was as obsessed with Grace Levinson as he was.

“Get out! Get out!”

I got off the bed, leaving my pants hanging and my cock still sheathed in the condom. I’d have to be careful not to leave any DNA. I’d have to wash Kyra later, but right now I couldn’t bear to be near her.

She was a reminder that I didn’t have Grace yet.

But soon. I’d have her soon.


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