Page 60 of Briar
His next stumbling step is his last when Willow kicks him, and he drops to the ground.
“After you, baby,” she says. “I’ll have my fun afterward.”
Jumping on his back, I hit him over and over, laughing when he throws me off.
“You’d have been better off with him,” Willow murmurs, turning her saw on and jumping on him. She doesn’t care about the blood as she drags the chainsaw deep into his chest, while I grab his arms and yank them over his head to keep him from hitting her.
She squeals when she hits his sternum, and he tries to buck her off his body. However, my girl has thighs of fucking steel, and she digs into his sides as she continues to wiggle down his body.
“You don’t need your dick, do you?” she asks.
The brunette goes wild, fear of being castrated turning him into an animal.
“You should die the same way you lived,” she hums. “Since you have shit for brains, I think cutting off your head is the best course of action.”
Getting off him, she strikes quickly, sawing through his throat while I continue holding his arms. The gurgling is loud and grotesque, but I refuse to flinch as I feel my alpha’s joy as she kills him.
“That was amazing,” she sighs happily. “We’ll come back for the other shitstain after we get rid of this one?”
“Absolutely,” I grin. “Let’s drag him back to the car and lay him out on the plastic sheeting, baby. Our dumping ground is waiting for us.”
“We have the best dates,” she squeals happily, grabbing his feet and helping me half carry, half drag him back to the car. His head is held on by his vertebrae and some tissue, allowing us not to worry about going back to get it.
It takes a lot of force to cut a head clean off. I’ve seen Willow do it before, and it’s impressive.
Our weapons are already wrapped in plastic in the backpack, and I’ll clean them at the dump site with the bleach in the back seat. We leave nothing to chance, and Willow and I are a well oiled machine when it comes to our kills.
“Fuck. He should have had less cheeseburgers while he was alive,” Willow sighs, popping the trunk. I help dump him there, glad she prepped it for us while she was parked here.
It’s a little scary how good we are at this. Stripping off our masks, we put everything away except our gloves and get back into the vehicle. Willow and I found some undeveloped property near Widows Peak to dig our graves, though we didn’t know the town existed at the time.
Willow turns onGirls Just Want to Have Fun, over the speakers, and we sing along at the top of our lungs once we’re on the open road. My girl loves her records, but she needs music in the car as well. It’s her happy place, and I’ll never deny her anything that brings her joy.
Willow stashes our car in some bushes, and we pull out the alpha asshole's body from the trunk. The shovel fits in our murder bag, which is easy to sling over my head. There are tools inside to break down his body before we throw it in, as well as chemicals that’ll help speed up the decaying process.
“I hate hills,” she groans, helping me half carry, half drag the body. “I’m going to have to hit the gym to be able to get better at this.”
Chuckling under my breath because she always complains after our kills, I focus on putting one foot in front of the other so we won’t fall down the fucking hill. Eventually, we start dragging the body by his feet, because that’s easier.
“Fuck, he’s heavy,” Willow gasps, starting to sweat. She smells fucking fantastic, and it just makes me want to drag her to the ground and eat her out until she cums all over my face. “Down, boy.”
I pretend to bark, laughing, while she giggles like a maniac.
“We need to think of a better way to get his friend up here,” I grunt, shifting the bag on my shoulder.
“Jude, help me with his arms, please?”
I squish my nose at her in consternation, knowing she’s trying to change the naughty thoughts I’m having.
“Jude?”
At the sound of my name, Willow and I snap our heads around as a bright light blinds me.
What the fuck? Did we just get caught?
“Well.” Atlas lets out a low heady chuckle as something hits the ground with a thud. “It looks like we’re having that conversation sooner than we thought.”
“Ah, shit,” I breathe, glancing down at the body at our feet. “This isn’t what it looks like?”
