God and Monsters

Chapter 37

I'm a ball of nervous energy by the time Lisa walks through my bedroom door. Between the footsteps trekking back and forth down the hallway, and my anticipation to see Lisa, I haven't been able to sleep. It's well after midnight now, and I've been lying in bed in nothing but a black nightie, gearing myself up for her arrival. Rolling over, I watch her gently shut the door and begin to shuffle towards the bathroom, sulfur, blood, and smoke permeating the air. My balcony doors are cracked open, allowing in the cool breeze and webs of moonlight. I sit up and flip on the sconces hanging above my bed, feeling like one of those women sitting in a pitch-black room, clicking on a single lamp when their cheating husband sneaks through the door.
The thought of Lisa cheating is laughable, though. That will always be one thing I'd never have to concern myself with. She pauses, tipping her chin over her shoulder at me.

"Is this where we act like a married couple, and I ask where you've been and why you're home so late?" I tease lightly.

The lights radiate a soft yellow glow, creating a moody effect as she reaches her hand over her shoulder and tugs her hoodie over her head by the neck, pulling her white t-shirt with it. I bite my lip, my eyes eating up her muscled, tattooed back and massive arms.

"Sure, baby," she says quietly. "But we both know my cock belongs only to you."

"Good, then you know I can remove it from your body if I want. Since it's mine and all that."

She turns with a grin, not the least bit concerned. I cross my arms. That's just insulting. I'm pretty much a badass now.

"I got held up because the guy I was after was in the middle of an airport attempting to get on a flight."

"How'd you get him out without anyone noticing?"

"Ambushed him while he was taking a piss. Then had to empty out a suitcase to stuff his body into."

I blink. That sounds... interesting.
Before, I'd call her disturbed. Sick. Psychotic. I mean, she is still all of those things. But it no longer repulses me like it used to. Or maybe it never did, and I was lying to myself.
I do that a lot.

"Who was it?" I ask.

"Some man that Jillian asked me to kill. Used to be her step-dad and abused her as a child," she explains, toeing off her boots and setting them neatly in the corner of the room.

I wasn't surprised to find that Lisa lives meticulously. She doesn't seem like the type to leave her dirty underwear lying in the middle of the room for a week, or crusty dishes in the sink.

"Good," I murmur, happy that she could do that for her. "Is he the only one you killed tonight?"

"Yes," she responds simply, arching a brow.

I nod and lick my dry lips, nervous about broaching this subject. "So, Rio is still evading you?"

Lisa glances at me. "I know where he is, Rosie," she answers, approaching me, wearing nothing but her black jeans and belt.
My heart drops, but I work to keep my face blank.

"You don't want him dead," she states plainly, sitting on the edge of the chair beside the bed. I'm pretty sure we'll have to clean that-she's absolutely covered in blood.

"Why would you thi-"

"Don't lie to me," she cuts in sternly, facing straight ahead. Her white eye flits towards me before returning to the black wall.

"I see your face anytime his impending death is brought up, yet you always keep your pretty mouth shut. I've known his location for a while, but I've decided that I'll wait to kill him until you open your mouth and tell me what you really want."