Monster Of Ruin: A Dark Serial Killer Romance (The Dark Angels Book 4)

I’ve been watching Clara sleep for about two hours now. She never put her pajamas back on, so I’ve gotten a nice view of her tits most of the time, which is making getting up more difficult. She’s been here just over three weeks now and I know when she’s in a deep sleep. I know exactly when I can go up there and know she won’t wake up.

That time is now.

I go into my kitchen and grab the bag of items I’ve gotten for her. There are some groceries, clothes, and chocolate. She appreciates it when I leave her chocolate and after a night of her giving me an epic orgasm, she deserves it.

I grab the key off the counter, and I quietly head up the stairs. I slide the key into the lock and open the door, leaving it open behind me. The food and water I place in the kitchen, grabbing the chocolate and clothes.

Getting in and out of somewhere quietly and undetected is easy for me. So, I have no trouble doing it in my own home.

As I get to the bedroom that Clara is sleeping in, I step inside. I place the clothes on top of the dresser and move to the nightstand. I put the chocolate on it and grab the vibrator she used on herself. I smell it as I stare at her, now knowing what her scent is. It makes my dick hard as I inhale her scent again. I keep my eyes on her as I lick the vibrator. Her taste coats my tongue and I suppress a growl. She tastes even better than I imagined. Unable to control myself, I suck on the vibrator, swirling my tongue around. She’s sleeping peacefully as I pull it from my mouth and place it back on the nightstand.

Now her taste is in my mouth and my saliva is on the vibrator. Next time she uses it, she’ll have no idea a piece of me is inside of her.

Before I leave the room, I bend down and grab her panties off the floor. I hold them to my nose and inhale deeply, enraptured by her smell.

I shove them into my pocket and walk out of the room.

After I’ve locked the door, I head back downstairs. Sleep will not find me now. I’m wound up with Clara’s scent in my nose and taste in my mouth.

I don’t bother going back to my bedroom, I go outside and sit on the large wooden porch swing. The moon is bright, giving just enough light as I stare out at my property.

Nothing is working the way I thought it would. Justin Hart is still nowhere to be found. I thought he’d come running, looking for his beloved daughter, but I was wrong. He didn’t come looking because she’s not the beloved daughter we thought she was.

Clara was supposed to be an easy job. Lure her daddy out and either suffer the same fate as him or drive her out of town.

Now she’s proven more than once that she had no idea what he’s mixed-up in. She may have thought he was into something dirty, but she didn’t realize it was anything like this.

The problem now is we still don’t have Justin and there’s no way in hell I’m letting Clara go. She’s mine now, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.

My phone buzzes next to me, pulling me from my thoughts. I know it’s one of the guys because no one else would be up this time of night. I grab it out of my pocket and see it’s Henley.

“What’s up?” I answer.

“I was at Trappers Den tonight and there was a lot of talk about a missing girl. Her friend was there crying and handing out missing posters. Might need a plan,” he says.

I scrub a hand down my face and lean back on the porch swing. “Not worried.”

“Not worried or don’t care, ‘cause she’s being looked for,” he replies.

“Lots of people are looked for, in case you forgot.”

He chuckles at my comment, and I hear him close a door. “It’s just us, man. What’s the deal with you and this chick? You never get sloppy, and this seems kinda sloppy.”

I can feel my jaw ticking when he finishes talking. My hand tightens on the phone as my breathing picks up.

“Why don’t you stop worrying so much about what the fuck I’ve got going on. I’m focused like always. Something you could learn from,” I hiss.

“This is what I’m talking about. You get worked up real easily.”

“Nothing new.”

He laughs again and it pisses me off more. “You fuck her yet?”

I hang up on him and toss my phone next to me, grabbing my other phone that connects to the cameras. I open the camera view in her room and once my eyes land on her my rage settles.

Fuck, she has a way of calming me down.

It’s late evening as I push open the door to the Trappers Den. Henley may have pissed me off, but he did have a point. As I was driving here, I noticed missing posters with Clara’s beautiful smiling face on them. I’m not worried that she’ll be found, but it is a little concerning that someone seems to be looking for her. Unfortunately, I know it’s not her piece of shit father. Henley said her friend was in here handing out the flyers and while a part of me is glad she has a friend who cares, the bigger part of me is pissed her father is still a ghost.

“Hey Lowell,” I say, taking a seat on one of the empty barstools.

“Hey, boss. Can I get you anything?” he asks, wiping down the lacquered bar.

“No, I’m good. How’s things been going?”

“Things are good. I have your money in the safe, I placed an order, and we’ve been a little busier than normal because of some missing girl,” he explains.

I dip my brows and lean my arms on the bar. “There’s a missing girl?”

He nods, looking around the bar, leaning closer so nobody can hear him. There are a few people here. Some are probably just off work, and some are probably trying to drown out their sorrows. “Apparently, she went missing from here a couple of weeks ago. Cops came asking questions, but I don’t remember her. According to her friend, she went to the bathroom and when she returned her friend was gone. She didn’t think much of it because the girl has done it before, but it’s been weeks now and there’s been no contact,” he says.

The cops nosing around would make any other guilty person nervous, but not me. Like I said, they are well taken care of thanks to me.

“The cops have any leads?”

“Nah. They think she probably took off with her dad. Apparently, he’s unreachable too, but her friend is hell-bent that it’s not true. She’s the one who’s getting everyone worked up believing there is something evil lurking,” he says.

I chuckle at his comment, shaking my head. “What’s the deal with her father?”

If anyone has heard anything it’s Lowell.

“The girl’s friend said he’s a real piece of shit. She said that he’s been gone for weeks longer than his daughter and that they have no real relationship. But I did hear from a couple of guys who were here that her father is a judge and probably mixed up in some bad shit. They think the girl may have been taken by someone who wants something from the judge. They also said there have been rumors that he had his wife killed.” He shakes his head, draping the rag over his shoulder. “Fucked up shit.”

“Sounds like a real asshole,” I reply.

A few new customers come in and Lowell excuses himself to help them. I think about everything he told me, most of which I already knew. The parts that stand out to me are Clara’s friend says the same thing as Clara, that she and her father have no relationship. Also, the guys talking about Justin being a dirty judge, that means he’s very sloppy. If he has random people talking about what he does, we may be too late. He could already be dead. And last, the rumors Justin had his wife killed. Phantom mentioned that, but now I think it deserves more looking into.

“You hear about that missing girl?” a man behind me says.

“Yeah, Clara Hart. Not surprised, really. She gets trashed and goes home with just about anyone when she’s like that,” another guy says.

I clench my fists on the bar as I grit my teeth.

“Well damn, I never got my shot,” the first guy says, bellowing out a laugh.

My body vibrates with rage now, but I continue to listen.

“Oh, you definitely missed out. She’s a fantastic lay and doesn’t care when you tell her to leave the next morning,” the second guy replies.

I spin around to get a look at them and watch them laugh. They’re complete tools. One has dark hair, the other dirty blond. They don’t notice me listening because they’re too busy laughing. Men like them never notice their surroundings. Makes them the easiest of targets.

“Maybe she’ll come back soon, and I can grab her for a few days before they start looking again.”

They’re obviously fresh from their pathetic rat race of a job. Both dressed in cheap suits. They wouldn’t know a good suit if one materialized right in front of them. The one man has a real nasally voice, and I wonder how Clara could have ever let this mother fucker touch her.

“Lowell, I’ll be back tomorrow,” I say, staring at the guys as I walk out the front door.

I don’t leave though; I lean against the building waiting in the shadows. At this point, I’m not sure if I’m more enraged that one of those pricks had their hands on Clara or that Clara lets herself get into these situations.

Either way, these assholes are going to learn that running their mouths ends badly.

Luckily for me, I don’t need to wait long when they come walking out of Trappers Den. I follow them to the first guy’s BMW and when he hits the button to unlock the doors, I slam my fists on the hood.

“Hey, what the fuck, man?” the prick that laid his fingers on my girl says.

“You got a problem?” the blond-haired guy asks, stepping closer to me.

I grin as he steps up to me. I grab him by the throat and slam him onto the hood of the car. He struggles, grabbing at my hand, but it’s useless. My anger has taken over and there’s nothing stopping it.

“Fuck, let him go,” Blondie shouts.

I snap my head toward him and narrow my eyes. “You think it’s funny there’s a missing girl?”

His brows dip as he looks from me to his friend. “What? No of course not,” he says with what I assume is real fear in his voice.

“But you think it’s funny that this prick took her home while she was completely vulnerable and fucked her before telling her to leave?” I hiss.

I don’t give him a chance to reply, I turn my focus to the man that actually touched her. His shit-brown eyes are wide as he continues to struggle on the hood of the car. I pull out my knife and the first guy runs like a pussy, jumping in his car and peeling out of there, while the guy in my grip tries to shout for help.

“I should cut your dick off for fucking Clara,” I growl, pointing the knife at him.

“Please, no,” he whispers. A part of me wants to laugh when the fucker starts crying.

The fear I see looking back at me has my adrenaline rushing through me. “Did you finger her?” I ask through clenched teeth.

He shakes his head, but I can see he’s lying. His eyes widen and he tries to avoid eye contact. I press my body against his and let go of his throat.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend,” he yells.

“You should be sorry, you piece of shit,” I growl. I grab his hand pinning it against the car and press my knife against his first two fingers. “Her scent will be off you now.”

I press down until his pointer and middle finger are gone. He’s screaming in agony, and I reach over and punch him in the jaw, causing more pain.

When I pull away from him, he falls to the ground, whimpering in pain.

“If I find out you didn’t cover your dick with a condom, I’ll be back,” I say, kicking him in the ribs.

No one gets to have Clara’s scent on them but me and she’s about to realize how serious I am.

I leave the guy bleeding in the parking lot and call the police. I don’t have camera’s inside or outside the Trappers Den, for good reason, so when I tell them that I fought off a guy attacking another for fucking his wife, they tell me not to worry about it.

That prick can tell them it was me all he wants; they’ll never believe it. Even if they did, they won’t care. They’ll look the other way because they know where their money comes from.

It does nothing to contain the fury I’m still feeling though. The drive home I’m barely able to sit still as I look at his blood on my hands. He touched Clara and she let him.

When I get home, I park the truck and go inside to wash my hands. As I watch the blood swirl down the drain, I look up the stairs.

He was punished for having her scent on him.

Now it’s her turn.