Genre: MC Romance
After driving out to the roughest part of town to the address Skid gave me, I grab the baseball cap from the dash and slide it backward over my head. When I let myself into the small but well-kept bungalow, the metallic stench hits me before I’ve even fully opened the door. I recognize it straight away, it’s fresh, barely a few hours, I’m guessing, and I tie my black bandana around my face to cover my nose. When I’m inside, I’m shocked at how much there is of it. Whoever’s blood it is, is splattered all over the walls and ceilings, it’s soaking into the carpet, and I see no sign of the body it belongs to.
“You’re the one who likes cleaning up, right?” The sweet voice distracts me from my assessment of the room, and I follow the blood-smeared trail on the carpet to a set of hot pink painted toes.
I raise my eyes up the slender, milky-colored legs to her cut-off denim shorts and a white tank top that’s soaked with blood.
Rogue’s pale skin is marred with crimson freckles. There’s a long smear of blood on her left cheek which looks like it’s been made by a finger, and she’s wearing the most haunting smile on her lips.
My cock likes what I’m seeing far too much to be discreet about it.
“I made a start.” She runs her blood drenched hand through her ice blonde hair, streaking the strands, before she twists a lock of it around her fingertip like she suddenly became shy or somethin’.
Another look around the room has me wondering if she’s seeing the same scene as I am. Shock can do crazy shit to a person.
“Where’s the body?” I ask cautiously, she probably ain’t in the right frame of mind, there’s no guessing what she might do next.
“Grimm, ain’t it?” She ignores my question, holding out her blood contaminated hand like she actually expects me to shake it. I stare at it for a while, then look up at her like she’s fucking crazy.
“Oops, sorry.” Her giggle travels straight to my dick, and I watch in disgust as she attempts to clean her palm by rubbing it on her shorts before she holds it out again.
Her cuteness seems so genuine that I have to question her sanity. When I shake my head at her, she shrugs and casually steps aside for me. It allows me to continue following the bloody trail to where a body lays.
“Fucker managed to crawl himself that far,” she says, stepping over the average-sized male corpse that’s lying face down in front of us. A pool of syrup thick blood already congealed beneath it.
I nod my head while trying to pull together a plan of action. I’ve seen much worse, but never by the hands of someone so small. I can’t help being impressed.
“He made the mistake of putting me in a position where it was him or me… I chose me,” she explains looking down at him, and when her head tips sideways and she releases that adorable giggle again, my cock twitches.