Married To Mr. Serial Killer{#thewattys2018}(BWWM)(Story #1 Completed)

★Surprise...?!

**Edited**

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"My wife went down on me for the first time within months after her throat surgery," Percy shared. "So what's eating you?" I nearly spat my latte all over my desk at the memory of last night. If ever there was a man who knew what to do with their tongue it was definitely D.T. He deserved a gold medal, really. Percy cocked a brow reading me correctly. "I wasn't the only one getting some head last night." This convo was so inappropriate especially by the fact we're at work. I chuckled, nervously, feeling a tinge of guilt for allowing a serial killer to use my woman parts like a lollipop.

To avoid having to talk about the subject any longer, I handed Percy the pamphlet in which I wrote down everything the detective shared to distract him. He read it. "Well, damn Simmons, people paying you with head to give a story. What's your secret?"

Drinking any sort of drink around Percy was becoming a hazard. You just never know what was going to fly out of that mouth of his. "No, the very frank detective gave me that story- said I was going to lunch with him in exchange for the information."

Percy's attention instantly shot from the pamphlet back to me. "Mona, be careful. Detective Owens is known for throwing reporters to the wolves."

I narrowed my eyes. "I didn't say it was Detective Owens."

He shot up out of the chair so fast. "Yeah, well, gotta jet. Papers are piling up on my desk," he said and quickly left my office.

What the...

"Good afternoon, Mona," Detective Owens greeted as he entered my office. Owens gazed around, looking astounded. "Wow. You know for a glam-girl, I expected your office to be more... lively, but anyways... are you ready?" The detective was wearing a faint smile with hands folded before him.

I smile brightly. "Yes, let's get out of here," I replied picking up my purse and finishing off my latte.

"You look beautiful," Owens complimented as he escorted me out of my office with a hand pressed against my lower back. "I have something very special in mind for this afternoon." As he smiled his blue eyes twinkled with a certain gleam that was unreadable.

We rode in the car silently while the detective played older white man music. My teeth gritted together to avoid being rude. "So where are we headed?" I asked taking my mind off the music.

Owens took a quick glance in my direction as he drove. "It's a surprise, Mona." We drove for at least ten minutes entering an area of Dove City dominated by warehouses. We stopped in front of a warehouse sectioned off by police tape. There were police everywhere and a forensic team, I noticed as we pulled into the parking lot.

"Detective, what are we doing here?" He says nothing and exits the vehicle. I follow, knowing this was his idea of "lunch". We approach a cop in uniform posted before the police tape. Him and the detective exchange glances. The cop in uniform nods and raises the tape for us. I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my gut. It felt as if I was at the top of a roller coaster about to plunge hundreds of feet. "This is one of Death Trap's recent hits," I blurted out.

There was that faint smile again. Only this time it was cold and unpleasant. "Smart girl." His tone was clipped and rather rude.

Mona, be careful. Detective Owens is known for throwing reporters to the wolves.

"I'm going back to the car." As soon as I turned to leave the detective's hand shot out and grabbed my arm.

"What's the rush, Miss Simmons?" He nearly dragged me into the warehouse. I grit my teeth together, trying to hold back my temper. I had a bad one, but over the years I learned to control it. My sister Mackayla has gotten a few black eyes from it. When I get mad all I see is red and assaulting an officer is grounds for an arrest.