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

I walk through the large wooden door of the Trappers Den and glance at Lowell. It’s not busy, but there are a few people scattered throughout. Lowell nods, letting me know that the guys are waiting for me.

I nod, heading toward my office and see the guys waiting at a table nearby. No one says anything as I unlock the door. They follow me inside and I lock the door behind us. The bookshelf that has books about owning a bar and binders full of blank papers have no true purpose but to hide our room.

Once it’s pushed open, we all file in and I close it behind us. We sit down at the table, and I scrub my face waiting to see what Phantom has found.

“What the hell took you so long getting here?” Trace asks.

“He’s got a hot piece of ass distracting him,” Henley says, laughing.

Anger I usually only feel toward my victims courses through my veins. “She’s not a hot piece of ass. She’s a means to an end,” I hiss, staring at him.

“Relax, I’m fucking joking,” he says.

Clara is not his to talk about. She’s my problem, no one else’s.

I shake my head and look at Phantom. “I hope you have something good, because I need the release.”

He drops a file on the table, and I grab it, flipping it open.

“Frank Taylor. He followed a woman home, forced his way inside her house, and raped her. He thought he left her for dead, but she survived. Her fear of having it happen again has prevented her from pointing the finger. So, this fucking piece of shit is walking free, bragging about double jeopardy,” Phantom explains.

The anger Henley has stirred is not combined with adrenaline. This is my kill and it’s happening as soon as I walk out of this room.

“He’s mine,” I growl, flipping through the photos Phantom has gathered.

“If that’s what you want,” Henley says.

I snap my head up and lock my angry dark eyes with him. “I wasn’t fucking asking.”

“Elliott, he’s all yours,” Trace says.

“Any progress with Hart’s daughter? She didn’t seem too happy the other day,” Phantom says, grinning.

I smirk as I lean back in my chair. “Nothing yet. Daddy hasn’t even popped his head up. She might not be lying when she said he doesn’t give a shit about her.”

“She said that?” Henley asks, his green eyes focused on mine.

I nod, not willing to give any more details. She’s mine to worry about.

They talk for a bit longer about some other names Phantom has gotten, but my mind’s focused on getting Frank Taylor. According to the files, he works nights. He’s home right now and that makes this an easy grab for me.

“Elliott, let us know when it’s done,” Trace says, as they stand up.

We all leave, and I lock up my office behind me. I nod to Lowell as I walk past and he gives a small wave.

The drive to Frank’s house is short and I don’t bother hiding my black Tacoma Pickup truck. I walk to the door and bang on it.

He answers the door with a scowl on his face. “Damn, what the hell are you banging for?”

I smirk as I push him into the house, slamming the door closed behind me. “Frankie boy, you’re coming with me.”

His brows dip as he tries to act like he doesn’t give a shit that I’m standing in his house. I can see the fear though and it gives me a jolt of excitement.

“Get the hell out of my house before I call the cops,” he says, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Not nearly as big as mine, though. I can take this guy down with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back.

I laugh as I pull the zip-ties out of my pocket. “You can try, but I’ve got other plans.”

He goes to run, but I’m bigger, faster, and full of rage. I zip-tie his hands behind his back as he screams like a little bitch.

I pull him up and link my arm through his. He tries pulling away as he yells for help, but it just fuels my eagerness. Using my other hand, I pull out my skinning knife and hold it against his throat.

“You can walk to my truck slowly bleeding to death or you can walk to my truck like you are. Totally your call,” I say, pressing the sharp blade against his throat, feeling the pulse of his vein.

I smirk when he doesn’t say anything and allows me to walk him to my truck. Luckily, he lives out in the boonies and nobody’s around, but I’m not taking any chances with a screaming man at my side. I toss him inside and put his seatbelt on before looking around to make sure no one saw anything. This guy is dumber than I expected because he lives in a secluded area. No witnesses.

I climb into the truck and throw it into drive.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks.

I glance at him before focusing back on the road. “I’m giving you exactly what you have coming.”

“Look I don’t know what the hell you think you know or what your problem is, but if money is what you want, I’ll get it for you,” he says as his voice breaks.

I don’t reply and keep driving. He’s starting to yell for help, and I turn up the music to drown out his voice as we pull up to a red light. There’s a cop stopped at the light facing me. Frank thinks it’s a good time to shout louder as he rocks back and forth. I chuckle as the light turns green and the cop waves to me as he drives past.

The thing about having the kind of money I do; I’ve ensured people view me in a different light. The cops never bother me because I was the one who funded the new police station. I donated the money for their new uniforms and police cars. They think I’m the most generous guy in Black Falls.

It makes what I do that much easier. Frank can scream for help all he wants, but no one is coming. I’ve made sure of that.

Once we get to my estate, I unlock the gate and drive through. It closes behind us and I turn down the music as I drive to the side of the house.

“Please let me go,” he begs.

I park the truck and turn my head toward him. “I intend to.”

I can see the relief and it makes me grin. He has no idea that he’s anything but free. This is my favorite part.

He climbs out of the truck, and I cut the zip-ties, releasing his hands. He rubs his wrists as he looks around.

“So, you brought me to the woods to set me free?” he asks, staring at the thick forest in front of us.

I pull my knife out of my pocket and point it at him. “Run, Frank.”

His eyes widen and he rushes off. I crack a smile as I lean against the hood of the truck. He won’t get far and once I hear his screams, I’ll go hunt for him.

My adrenaline pumps wildly around my ribcage as I wait. Something causes me to look up at the window. I see Clara. She’s looking in the direction Frank just ran and my heart pounds because she’s going to see what happens next, and that thought turns me on.

The idea that she’ll watch me drag him out of the woods as he’s bleeding, half dead, before I finish him off in the butcher shop, has me rubbing my hand along my hardening dick.

Frank’s blood-curdling scream catches my attention and I look down the dirt path.

“Get ready for a show, my delicate flower,” I whisper, looking up at her.

Frank continues to cry in agony as I slowly make my way down the path. I move my traps around to keep things interesting. That way it’s as much of a surprise to me as it is for whoever gets caught.

His cries get louder, and I smile, realizing he got caught in a bear trap. I make my way to him and see him on the ground shouting as he tries to open the trap that is clapped around his ankle. The metal teeth are buried into his skin, and the pain he’s most likely feeling is just the beginning.

“Fuck, help,” he shouts when he sees me.

I step up next to him. “An animal would try to chew its own leg off to escape. Should I help you out and cut your leg off?”

“Fuck no,” he screams.

His bones are crushed, sticking out of his leg and I lean down and glare into his eyes. “An animal deserves my mercy; you don’t deserve shit. Do you think that woman you raped will ever be the same? Do you think she feels safe? You stole that from her, and she was too scared to seek the justice she deserved. I’m going to give her that justice.”

“I’m sorry. Please, I’ll turn myself in,” he cries.

“Too late,” I say, pushing the tip of the knife against his chest.

“Please don’t,” he shouts, squeezing his eyes shut.

I chuckle as I work to get the trap off his leg. He doesn’t even realize it’s off because the pain is too severe. I grab his arms and start dragging him through the thick brush. He’s screaming as he hits each and every rock and tree stump.

There’s no fight in him because the pain is too much and as I drag him out of the woods, I glance up to the window to see if Clara is watching. My heart races when I see she’s still there. She covers her mouth as I drag Frank into the butcher shop.

This fucker deserves worse than what I’m going to give him.

“Fuck,” he shouts when he sees my setup.

I’m proud of my little butcher shop. A small wood cabin in the thick of the forest with every tool known to man hanging from the ceilings. Hooks. Cleavers. Axes. Too many different knives to name. Traps. And my favorite is the chain I’ll use to hang him from.

I pull the hoist down from the ceiling and push the hooks into his flesh. His screams are deafening but they won’t last much longer. I pull the chain and Frank lifts off the ground.

As he continues to scream for help and mercy, I grab my knives and lay them out on the steel table. I grab the gutting knife and step up to him, rubbing my thumb against the blade to make sure it’s sharp.

“Please don’t,” he screams.

“Probably exactly what she said to you,” I growl.

He knows I’m right because I can see it in his guilty eyes. He raped that woman. Took her choice from her and defiled her body. She didn’t ask for this mother fucker to touch her, and now I’ll make him pay for it.

I take the blade and push it into the flesh just below his ribs and drag it down. He is cut open and his insides spill out onto the floor. He’s not completely dead but his head falls forward as he passes out from the pain. I let him hang there and bleed out, which doesn’t take long. I know exactly where to cut.

Once he’s dead, I lower him and begin the process of cutting him up. I need to bury the body and thankfully I have another deer carcass waiting for the job.

I feel nothing but exhilaration as I saw off his arms and legs. Blood is everywhere, but it’s an easy clean-up. Thanks to the drain on the floor and the hose I’ve got along the back wall. I toss his extremities into the wheelbarrow and take my knife and slit his throat so deep that it is barely hanging on. I toss him into the wheelbarrow and his head smacks against the metal.

“Good thing you’re dead, Frank, that might’ve hurt a little,” I say, grabbing the deer carcass out of the freezer.

I drop it on top of him and walk out of the butcher shop, pushing the wheelbarrow. I glance up and see Clara staring out the window, but when she sees me, she rushes off.

My delicate curious flower.

After digging a twelve-foot grave, I bury the remains of Frank and put six feet of dirt on top of him before dropping the deer six feet above him.

It was a long day and after my shower, I’m finally in bed. I didn’t go up to talk to Clara because I figured she’d be asleep, but I was wrong.

I have cameras everywhere on that floor and the one in the bathroom goes off. I pick up the phone that is connected to the cameras and open it. She’s getting in the shower and I watch her strip out of the sweats that I left for her.

Each night while she sleeps I go up there and stock her fridge and leave her new clothes and pajamas. Last night I left enough for a few days, so it’s not necessary I do it tonight, which was a great decision because I now get to enjoy her showering without needing to wait for her to fall asleep.

My adrenaline is still pumping from the kill and the thought that now Clara knows what I’m capable of. My dick stirs as I watch her step into the shower. The water runs over her long blonde hair, and I free my cock from my boxers, wrapping my hand around it.

I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve jerked off to Clara daily since she’s been here, especially when she’s wet and naked.

I pump my cock as I watch her take the soap and run it over her hot tits as she washes herself. Her eyes are closed as she steps under the water, and I groan as I pump harder and faster. The soap runs down her body and I lick my lips wanting to drag my tongue down her body just the same.

She’s perfection that I’m tempted to taint.

She turns around and her round ass is now in view. I imagine pushing my cock deep into it as my arms wrap around her from behind. Her cries would be of pleasure, a sound so different from the torture I’m addicted to causing.

“Fuck,” I hiss, feeling my release building.

As if she knows, she turns around and runs her hands over her tits. Her hard nipples are begging for attention. It makes me want to bust down the door and wrap my lips around them, biting down as I push my fingers deep inside her wet pussy.

Fuck, her fingers brush against her bare pink pussy and I groan.

The thought of slamming into it and feeling her wrapped around me, squeezing me as I fuck her, has my orgasm impossible to stop.

“Oh Clara,” I moan as my release rips through me.

I never take my eyes off her as I ride it out, coming all over my hand. When I’m finished, I quickly clean up.

She steps out of the shower, and I lick my lips.

“Tomorrow, sweet Clara. It’s time you get your release,” I whisper.

I watch crawl into bed, pulling the covers over her. Sleep pulls her under quickly, and I listen to the soft sounds of her breathing through the speakers in my room.

My eyes finally close and my nightmares are haunted by her bright blue eyes.