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Even when I was young, I knew my father was a complex man. Most people have both a dark side and a good side, and he was no exception. He was a loving father who always put his family first. I will never forget the sacrifices he made for us, and I will always cherish the memories we shared.
There’s still a sense of shame—the kind society instills in you. I know some people will never understand. They looked at him and saw only the darkness. But I’ll always remember the man who raised me and taught me how to be strong.
And if it weren’t for me, he never would have been caught.
I turn away from the window and return to my food. After finishing what I can, I put the leftovers in the fridge. I still need to figure out my employment situation, so I grab the newspaper from the kitchen counter and search through the wanted ads. Unfortunately, my lack of a college degree limits my options.
After skimming the pages, I find a few jobs that I’m surely qualified for. One is a cashier at a grocery store, another is a busboy at a restaurant. The third is a delivery driver for a pizza place. I circle the entries and decide to check the places out tomorrow. Although I’m not exactly thrilled about any of them, I need to start somewhere. Maybe I’ll drive around and scope out more places while I’m out.
I shut off the TV and head to my room. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I scowl at my tangled hair and bloodshot eyes. I shake my head and wipe my brow, the stuffy air more punishing than usual this evening. After turning on the fan, I open the window and sit in front of my vanity, tugging a brush through the knotted strands.
My new bedroom may be small, but it’s now mine. There are books on a shelf, a framed poster of Nine Inch Nails on the wall I got from my last job, as well as the movie poster for Friday the 13th Part II. There’s also a desk with a lamp where I can write in my journal. I want this space to be comfortable and inviting, a place where I can relax and unwind.
By the time I’m done fighting with my hair, exhaustion bears down on me. I’m seconds from crawling into bed when I see it—a dark figure darting across the street. I freeze, swallowing hard as the news report replays in my mind. For several moments, I don’t move and question if it was a hallucination. It’s likely nothing, I reason. Probably just an animal.
I change into light pajamas, turn off the light, and slip under the covers, hoping for a dreamless slumber.
I take a bite of an egg roll and scrunch my nose. The wrapper is soggy, and the filling is like a lump of ice in my mouth. I put it back on my plate and pop it in the microwave in a futile attempt to salvage my breakfast. I refuse to waste a perfectly good egg roll.
As the appliance whirs to life, I sigh. I have a long day ahead of me, and I wish I had something to wash my food down with. By the time the microwave dings, I’m practically drooling over the thought of a tall glass of orange juice. I take yet another bite of the egg roll, and this time, the filling is onlyslightlyicy. Still not ideal, but at least it’s edible.
I need to go grocery shopping. My bank account is looking meager, and I need to secure employment before it gets worse. If I’m fortunate enough to get hired at the grocery store, perhaps they’ll offer an employee discount. That ought to help keep my fridge stocked more often.
I grab my bag, slip on my sandals, and leave the apartment. As I lock up, I hear footsteps climbing the stairs. I freeze and swallow to calm my pounding heart. Last night’s nightmare has me on edge. But I’m probably overreacting; after all, I’m not the only person who lives here.
Suddenly, a voice calls out to me. “Hey.”
I whirl around, my posture going rigid. “Uh … Can I help you?” I ask, doing my best to steady my voice.
The man is tall and thin, with dark hair and a beard. “I’m lost. Can you give me directions? I’m looking for a friend of mine …”
I hesitate, choosing my words carefully. I don’t know him, and I’m not sure if I should trust him. “Not sure if I can. I’m not from around here.” Onlypartiallya lie.
“Oh,” he says, his shoulders drooping. “Well, thanks anyway.” He starts to walk away, but then he pauses and glances back at me. “Be careful out there. I heard there was a murder in the area recently.”
And then he’s gone.
I slowly exhale. The man seemed harmless enough, but his warning fills me with unease. Exiting the building, I eventually reach the reserved tenant parking lot, grateful not to have to fight for a spot. Getting in my car, I turn on the ignition and crank up the music, half-expecting to see the man again. But he’s nowhere to be found.
I pull out of the lot and drive downtown, a knot of apprehension tightening in my gut.
Chapter
Three
HIM
Unfortunately, I’ve overslept.
It is my day off, but recent events have left me more fatigued than usual. Despite all my planning, my latest target proved to be more resilient than expected. And I have the bruises to prove it.
Benjamin Wilson, a business entrepreneur—and a serial rapist who preys on his victims by drugging them and then violating them at his leisure. The bastard managed to land a few punches before I slammed a heavy, gaudy statue into his skull. Blunt-force trauma is not something I normally resort to; I prefer stealth and knives over close-quarters combat. But one must do what is necessary to survive.
And I must ensure that justice is served. Can’t rely on the corrupt police.
Unfortunately, even after that, Ben still had a lot of fight left in him. It took him more time than usual to bleed out and finally succumb to blood loss. Perhaps if I had increased his dose, he wouldn’t have been such a pain in the ass to deal with in the first place.
I won’t make that mistake again.
