Pretty Little Monster (Pretty Obsessions Book 3) by AJ Merlin

Author:AJ Merlin [Merlin, AJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Iflinch as blood lands on my face, and I reflexively take three good steps back. For some reason, the dog, Bear, is quiet now, though his dark eyes remain fixed on the man currently raining blood to the ground below him.

The knife is pulled out, then plunged down once more. This time on the other side of the man’s throat. My lips part, and it occurs to me I should do something—like run—before I’m next. And yet…

And yet I can’t move. I’ve only ever seen one person die that wasn’t courtesy of me. Fuck Rob had been pathetic, sure. But Oliver hadn’t been as vehemently aggressive as this. No, he’d been aggressive in his own feral way. Blood sprays through the air again, arcing like a fountain and narrowly missing me. Some stupid part of my brain reminds me that blood is a bitch to get out of clothes, and if I come home with it on me, there will be questions.

And blame.

The blame would be worse. I know my boyfriends would immediately think I’d done something. Why in the world would they believe, even for a moment, that I was unlucky enough to stumble into some other killer in Nashville the first time I’d gone out to prowl? Yeah, I don’t know how I’d ever explain that to them without sounding like I’m trying to make up the world’s lamest, least believable excuse.

My hands twitch as the man topples to his knees, and I bend down just enough to swipe the switchblade from my boot before standing and flicking it open. Without the drunk man as a shield between us, the guy in the hood has direct access to just step over his gurgling, sad body and stab me next.

Or try. Though I’m sure the switchblade is more of a bluff than anything, as Rook hasn’t seen fit to start training me in the ways of ninja knife fighting as of yet. It’s definitely something I’ll have to bring up to him.

It’s hard to pull my gaze from the longer, wickedly sharp blade he’s holding. His fingers seem relaxed around it, though slick with blood, and my breath catches in my throat. Is this how other people feel? Is this how Langhorn felt when we waved knives in his face and threatened him? The homeless man hadn’t had much of a chance to notice what I was doing, but if he had…

Is this how it feels when you’re about to die?

My feet finally remember that we’re in a bad position. A bad place and a terrible situation. I inch back one step, then once more, with my hand clutched around the handle of my own blade. If I can get back into the bar, I can go for help. I can scream and cry and be the victim I’m so good at pretending to be when I’m looking for someone to follow out and dream about killing.

I take another step, my leg muscles tensing to run. I’m going

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