Page 88 of Deceptive Desires


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I follow my mark around the corner.

The doctor shouldn’t be out this late. He has no idea what’s lurking in the dark, waiting to attack.

He’s in the parking lot of a seedy motel. He just rolled around with a prostitute.

It’s one thing to cheat on your wife, which is all kinds of fucked up. It’s another to pay to do it.

Maybe the sign that no one else wants you should be a hint not to cheat.

Or, you know, the fucking wedding band on your finger.

He’s a sleaze, a disgusting excuse for a man.

And he scared what’s mine.

For that, he’ll pay.

“Dr. Sanders!” I whisper from behind him. As much as I want to shout at him, I don’t want to draw any unwanted attention. Even though the parking lot is empty and dimly lit, I can’t risk someone looking out their window.

He shrieks and turns around, clutching his nonexistent pearls.

I grab him and drag him behind a dumpster. I already scouted the path, sure to avoid all cameras.

“Please, don’t hurt me. Just take it!” He thrusts his wallet in my face. “I’ll give you the watch, my shoes, fuck even my wedding band. Just don’t hurt me,” he cries out.

“Pathetic. It’s not like that wedding band means much to you,” I seethe. “I’m not here to rob you. And I’ll keep the pain to a minimum if you do me a favor!”

“Anything! Whatever you want!” he promises pathetically.

I punch his ribs hard enough to hear a crack. The sound soothes me. If I didn’t need him to do this for me, I’d kill him.

He’s been terrorizing my sunshine for over a year. He makes her uncomfortable. I would’ve never known if Cecilia hadn’t come to me trembling and pale yesterday upset about Dr. Sanders.

My vision turns red as I picture her scared, and I punch him again and again. I avoid his face, not wanting any visible signs of injury.

This time, his cries do nothing to calm me. Not his. Not the man who terrorized my Cecilia.

I don’t care how trivial the acts and comments were.

He made her uncomfortable. Now it’s time for him to be uncomfortable.

I knee him in the balls, wanting him to feel inexplicable pain. I know it’s a cheap shot. It’s one I don’t usually go for. It’s sick to do that to another man. But he hurt Cecilia. So now he pays.

He howls in pain and doubles over, clutching his crotch. He’s shaking and looks close to being sick.

“If you puke on me, I’ll make you eat it,” I promise him.

It’s bad enough he’s making me do this next to a dumpster. I’m going to smell disgusting. I swear if I get sick from this, I’m going to come back and kill him.

“Please! What do you want? I’ll do anything,” he begs, tears streaming down his face.

“I want you to fire Cecilia Rivera. Tomorrow.” I demand.

“What?” His brows furrow in confusion, but I don’t give a damn. I don’t need to explain myself to him.

“Why?”

“So she’ll never feel uncomfortable because of you again, you sick fuck,” I seethe, and kick him again.