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He shrugs, and it fills me with impatient fury. “Didn’t pay much attention. But he looked like he was going towards Chamberlain Street.”
“Did you notice anything about him? Anything at all that could help identify him?”
He shakes his head slowly, which only further enrages me. I release my grip on his shirt, shoving him against the dumpster, and unsheathe my knife. I place it against his throat, pressing it against his skin as he gasps.
“I suggest you think very carefully before answering my question again. If you’re holding out on me, I swear I’ll make sure you regret it.” I press the blade harder against his throat, drawing blood, and he trembles. “Now talk!”
His wide eyes bulge with terror. “It was dark, and I couldn’t see a lot of details about him. But he looked about average height.” His voice cracks as he continues to recall the details. “Maybe kind of built, but not too muscular. He wore black jeans, I think. That’s all I know, I swear! Please don’t hurt me!”
I narrow my eyes, searching his face. Despite his fear, he didn’t seem to be lying. I lower my blade away from his neck and he exhales in relief. I stand up straight as his eyes slip closed.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
I glare down at him, my knife still in hand—and swiftly swipe it across his throat. He tries to scream. Such an ugly, pathetic sound. But I cover his mouth, grab a fistful of hair, and slam his head against the dumpster with a sickening crack. I stab his chest, watching as blood blooms, staining his shirt. Slowly, I twist the knife, smiling as he desperately tries to claw at my arms.
He writhes in pain until the moment he slumps against the dumpster, his life finally snuffed out.
“Thanks for your cooperation,” I say coldly as I wipe the blood from my blade on his shirt before vanishing into the night.
Chapter
Thirteen
HER
Leaning back against the brick wall of Epic Flix, I take a deep drag of my cigarette and hold the smoke in my lungs. I savor the feeling for a moment before exhaling, watching as the wisps drift away like a ribbon of gray against the sky. I close my eyes and listen to the passing traffic, trying to distract myself from my spiraling thoughts.
Between the humiliating incident in the break room—where I had to scrub my shame from the floor and endure an uncomfortable ride back home until I could wash my clothes—and my father’s execution date encroaching ever closer, I haven’t been in the best mood. It’s bad enough that I’m paranoid that psycho is still stalking me.
His words echo in my head:I haven’t been the one breaking your shit and vandalizing your property. If not him, then who? Should I believe him? The thought of two different masked maniacs running around Fallbank doesn’t make me feel any better, either. I have no interest in their territorial pissing match, and I refuse to be dragged into their deranged games.
And I remember hisotherwords, too. Vividly. As he fucks me with his fingers like he owns me, my knees quaking, my stomach twisting into knots.You belong tome. My chest flutters, and I rub my thighs together. It feels like it just happened yesterday, his words still haunting me. I can feel his presence everywhere I go, like he’s got a hold on me, like we’re tied together with the red strings of fate.
I can’t shake the feeling that he won’t ever let me go.
Do I want him to?
After taking another puff of my cigarette, I crush it against the brick and toss it into the nearby dumpster. What is wrong with me? I shouldn’t be wrestling over whether I’m attracted to this guy. Yes, he violated my boundaries. But his touch, in some fucked up way, filled the intense void that has plagued me since childhood. Having someone so completely obsessed with you should be off-putting, should feel wrong. And yet, it didn’t—not entirely.
For some inexplicable reason, I find it oddly reassuring. Part of me loves the attention, but maybe that’s just my loneliness talking. Regardless of how I felt, I have to take a step back and think logically about this situation. Blake is kind, supportive, and stable—just the sort of guy someone like me needs. I should be grateful for being with someone like him, not some asshole who goes around wearing a mask, terrorizing people.
Not to mention the whole murder bit.
So why can’t I just let go? I take another deep breath and cross my arms, tapping my fingers against my elbow. There isn’t any comparison between them, so the answer should be simple. I check my watch, realizing my break is over, and I head back into the break room and towards the main part of the store. Jen finishes up with a customer and greets me with a warm smile.
“How’s it going?” she says, her expression thawing into a frown. “You look like you have something on your mind. Everything okay?”
I sigh and nod. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Still trying to decide what we should buy for the store.” I return to the open catalog laid out on the counter. “It’s hard to choose. There are a lot of great options the customers would love. As long as Brian doesn’t throw a fit about the prices again.”
Jen laughs, and her eyes soften in understanding. “I know it’s overwhelming,” she says, touching my arm lightly in comfort. “Take some time to think about what thestoreneeds, not what the customers want.”
I know she saw through my lie, but I’m thankful she played along, anyway. “Thanks, Jen. I’m sure I’ll figure it out soon.”
She pats my arm again before going back to helping customers. Jen’s words were more than just advice—it was genuine care and understanding. I don’t deserve her as a friend.
I take a few minutes to peruse the catalog, contemplating how best to approach Blake to reconnect with him. And apologize for being such a selfish jerk. Just as I’m about to close the tome, the bell chimes and Blake enters. My heart flips at the sight of him. His eyes flick to mine before quickly averting them as he walks toward the horror section.
Steeling myself, I suck in a breath and clear my throat. “Hey Blake,” I call out, hoping for the best.
