{GREY}
My heart races in excitement as I circle the crumpled up loser on the floor. He can act all tough, but the little beads of sweat collecting on his forehead tell a different story.
Then again, if I was on the receiving end of a Damon episode, I'd probably shit myself too.
I watch as Louis swings a kick towards Hallman, laughing as it connects in his ribs. There's something funny about the sound of bruises being made. But still, it doesn't sit quite right…
"Stand him up," I order, waving my hand at the others. "He should take this on his feet like a man."
Damon gives me an annoyed glance, obviously irritated that I just killed the flow of things. Louis and Mark, however, pick Hallman up, forcing him to his shaky feet.
"Why don't you just take over then?" Damon snaps at me, folding his arms.
"Ooh, can I?" I taunt. He makes it sound like he's doing me a solid for letting me play too, but we've got the good cop, bad cop gig down pretty well now. He secretly doesn't give a shit if I play too. I think it amuses him, though it would kill him to admit it.
Hallman gives me a pitiful look of hope. "Buddy, come on. I got you those cigarettes last month."
"Eh, they were stale," I moan dramatically. "Honestly, you said your outside contact was a good dealer."
"He is!" he stutters quickly. "I don't know what happened."
I shrug, bored. "Not my problem, Sam. And stale cigs are the least of your problems right now."
"Look," he pleas, holding his hands up. "I wasn't thinking. Come on, you're a dude. You know what the urges are like. Especially in here. We all have needs."
Damon scoffs, disgusted. I just raise an eyebrow, giving him a perplexed look.
"Urges? When we say no fucking without permission, we mean it. You don't just bring your little girlfriend into our space. Your dick is not our concern. Shove it into a blender for all I care. Wait a minute," I pause, turning to Damon. "Can we get hold of a blender?"
He shrugs. "I can't see why not."
"WAIT!" Hallman gasps. "Look, I was high and horny. Please don't touch my dick."
I muffle a laugh as Louis and Mark loosen their grip on him slightly, obviously not wanting to be mistaken for accidentally going near his mini sausage.
"I think you should kiss my foot," I tell him, watching as horror crosses his face, followed by coerced consideration.
Damon rubs his forehead, not impressed. Hallman shakily gets onto his knees, shuffling towards me.
"No, no," I say, waving my finger at him like I'm scolding a child. "On your hands and knees, like the good little boy you are."
"Grey," Damon grumbles. "Don't make me lose my appetite."
I grab a chair, swinging it around. I sit down, slapping my knee like I'm summoning a dog. "Here, boy."
Hallman crawls towards me, eyes burning hesitantly into my filthy feet. I may or may not have planned this, deliberately walking around barefoot to collect some delicious bacteria from the floors. This place never gets cleaned, so God knows what has grown in the cracks in the floor.
Holding out my right foot, I wiggle my toes in front of his face. "Right here. Suck my toes."
I burst out laughing when he puts my big toe into his mouth, gagging.
"Okay, enough," Damon says to me. "That's fucking disgusting."
Clutching my chest, I look at Hallman, appalled. "I agree. What type of person would suck someone's toes?"
His eyes widen in panic, fumbling over his words. I don't give him a chance to form a coherent sentence, my foot connecting with his throat as I kick him backwards.
I have to give myself credit — that was a pretty good kick. He lands several feet back in the middle of the aisles, gasping wildly for air as he grabs his throat.
His head turns to the side, and I notice he freezes, just for a split second — maybe less, before looking back up at the roof quickly.
Hmm. Interesting.
Something down that aisle caught his attention. He's tried hard to hide it, but the tensing of his torso coupled with the brief pause is enough for anyone to pick up on if they know how to read body language.
I've spent my entire life watching people from afar. Call it my little social experiment, but I love observing people. It's fun to read people, learning what they think and feel, how their bodies react subconsciously to their surroundings. You can learn a lot about someone from just watching them, even if they try to hide it.
Damon hasn't noticed, his body partially turned away. I think the toe sucking was enough to turn him off. Safe to say, foot fetish is not on his kink list. When the sack of shit on the floor stops gasping enough to allow us to think, Damon kicks his calf to draw his attention.
"Break the rules again and I'll unleash Grey on you — with whatever fucking kitchen appliances he likes." Without waiting for a reply, Damon steps over him, not bothering to miss his fingers as he squashes Hallman's fat fingers under his shoe. Louis and Mark follow him, the three of them pausing to look at me.
"You coming?" Damon asks.
I wave him ahead. "I'll catch up with you soon. I just need to finish up here."
"Whatever," Damon replies, bored. The three of them disappear from the library, the door closing shut behind them. Walking over to Hallman, I lean down, trailing my fingers along his chest. I really need to repaint my nails, they are getting chipped. Perhaps I should try red next time with a more natural substance.
"How many seconds do you think it takes for a human heart to stop beating after it's cut out with a carving knife?" I ask him.
Hallman trembles, eyes glassy as the wimp fights back tears. "I…I don't know."
"We're going to find out if you don't leave the library in the next five seconds," I grin at him.
Credit to him. He probably fucks like a goldfish on carpet but Christ he can move quickly when he wants to. He scrambles away from me, bolting from the library, limping as he goes.
My laughter follows him, hopefully haunting his mind. When the door stops swinging and fully closes, I turn my head to the side, noticing feet sticking out from the shelves.
Well, well, well… What do we have here?
Standing up, I stalk my way down the aisle slowly, watching as the feet scramble to hide, sensing the predator approaching. There's no room though — the feminine legs flailing in panic.
Reaching down, I grab the two ankles, dragging the body out from the tiny space in between the wall and the books. I stand over the now paralyzed body, my eyebrows raising in surprise.
"Well, hello little killer. Have you been attending private meetings?"
Avery stares up at me, her stormy eyes jolty as she contemplates her next move. She's always so timid and frightened, and honestly, it makes my little black heart hurt a little. Who would be afraid of little old me?
I lean over, locking eyes with her. And just when I think I have her all figured out, the feisty little thing kicks me square in the gut.
"Ooft!" I groan, stumbling back. It's unexpected but frankly, I think I might be fucking in love with her.
"Get the fuck away from me!" she snaps, jumping to her feet. "Take one step towards me and I'll saw your fucking balls off!"
My eyes dance with delight hearing her tiny threat. I step towards her, watching as she freezes before moving backwards. It only takes three baby steps before her back is against the wall, her fingers pressing into it like she's trying to find something to clutch on to.
"I mean it!" she says, but her voice trembles with empty promises.
"I hope so," I tell her, resting my hand next to her head as I cage her in.
Avery stutters, the emotions flashing across her face faster than Hallman took off — anger, fear, surprise, anger again, before finally resting on distress.
"I heard nothing," she mutters quietly. "I saw nothing."
I tsk at her, shaking my head. "Now, now, my darling. We both know that's not true."
I nearly crack up laughing when I spot the fire return in her eyes, the rare look of determination appearing.
"Are you going to shove my dick into a blender?" she taunts angrily.
Her stomach is sucked in against me — her attempt to make herself small, but all it's done is forced her into a tighter little space.
I bring my hand up to her leg, my fingers brushing against her pale skin. She stills, terror flashing from behind her eyes.
Interesting.
Holding my hand still, showing her I'm not going any higher, I merely stroke her skin softly with my fingertips.
"We both know you don't have one," I tell her, smiling. "Besides, you've been a good girl, right?"
She says nothing, her breath hitching slightly at my words. There's a slight change in her demeanor, her body language shifting. It's almost like a subtle plea of desperation. I have an inkling I know what it is, and it's fun to conduct scientific experiments, right?
Leaning forward, I breathe in her scent. The faint smell of roses from this God forsaken place lingers on her skin, along with dust from the shelves next to us. She shivers when my breath touches her ear, my nose brushing against her earlobe.
"I bet you're a really, really … good girl."
I wait for it, a sense of victory rolling through me when she jolts ever so slightly against me.
There it is I think to myself, smirking. My girl likes a little praise. My guess is no one ever gave her any positive encouragement, so now, she has no idea what to do with it, even though she obviously craves it.
The thought of her craving me sends a shock of electricity straight to my cock but I behave. There's no point rushing into these things — as much as I want to chase, the build up and anticipation is so much better.
Avery stills against me once more, back on guard so I slowly pull back against my better judgment. She'll come to me when she's ready, and I'll be waiting.
"Best not to tell Damon you were here," I tell her amused, watching as she starts to visibly relax.
"I wasn't planning on it," Avery replies, still gripping the wall.
I nod. "You can stay here for the rest of the break. But I'd probably try to find a better hiding spot. As small as you are, not even a toddler would be able to hide there."
She grinds her teeth together. "I wasn't expecting anyone to come in here. Vivian said it's usually abandoned."
Laughing, my voice booms through the library, startling her. "Is that what she told you?"
Avery nods, betrayal crossing her face as she once again realizes, there's no allies in this place. At least, not for her.
"She's right," I say, watching as confusion takes over. "But Damon does prefer to utilize the quiet space in here. At least during the day. The night time however…" I trail off, realizing I've said too much. But if Avery is a smart cookie, she'll already be able to piece two and two together from our conversation with Hallman.
I have to give her brownie points — her face stays neutral, not giving much away. She's an interesting specimen. Damon was correct — she has very little control over her emotions at times, but then she'll be impenetrable like Fort Knox. It makes me want to learn more about her, find out why she's like this. If she's in Lilydale, it's for a reason. My guess is it's something to do with a parental figure based on her mental state, particularly with the lack of praise. Not to mention how much she hates me calling her little killer. I could almost take a guess at what the situation is, but I'd rather hear it from those pink lips one day.
Avery stays silent and I lean down, pressing a daring kiss to her temple. My eyes catch sight of the bandage on her arm —another piece of the puzzle that will reveal itself later.
She tenses up beneath me but I don't say anything, just giving her a grin as I back away.
"You should be good for the remainder of free time in here today. Maybe just delay your visits to the library next time to make sure the coast is clear. But if you want to chat, you know where to find me."
Her eyes shoot up in surprise, but I don't wait for a response, vanishing out of the aisle and the library. Damon will no doubt be wondering where I am. It's best not to mention this to him — any part of it.
He's not as forgiving as I am. And I'd hate to have to explain to him that I'm claiming her.