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“Did I say that?” My tone is clipped, the agitation growing. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
“So, you’re going out without a plan?” Onyx clicks his tongue, shaking his head. Leave it to him to always be so fucking calculated. “Why don’t we settle on a target before we go hunting? Then we can do the proper work we need to do first.”
“Why can’t you ever be spontaneous and sporadic with me?” I ask him, crossing my arms over my chest as both of the dogs stride over to me. Diesel sits down beside my feet on the left as Khan occupies the space to my right.
Onyx chuckles lightly, ignoring the growling sounds coming from both dogs as he steps closer to me, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Because that is what’s going to get us caught Let me be your guiding light. The devil on your shoulder.”
I stare back at him, my body tense, but a sigh slips from my lips and my shoulders relax. I let my arms fall down by my sidesand pat both dogs on the tops of their heads, letting them know that it’s okay. “You have someone in mind?”
“A few,” Onyx shrugs, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I’ll let you pick who we’re going after first, though.”
Taking a step away from Onyx, I drop my purse down onto the black quartz countertop and follow him down into the basement. We step into one of the rooms that is set up like an office, but let’s be real, neither of us are doing any actual work in this room.
“What have you got?” I ask him, standing behind the chair as he sits down and logs onto the computer. When we were younger, Onyx became fascinated with computer type shit in school. I don’t know how exactly he learned coding and hacking, but either way, he’s damned good at what he does. Like black market money level good.
He enters the secure browser that keeps his IP address blocked and logs into the local police department’s record system. He searches through some files, finally landing upon one of the ones he was looking for.
“This guy, Maxwell Dunlop. He was accused of raping multiple girls, all around the age of thirteen, first starting with a young girl in his neighborhood. The man has money, so none of the charges ever stuck. I stumbled upon this one, but I'm sure he’s working to get it removed from existence.”
“So, you found him before he could slip off our radar.” I step beside Onyx’s chair, my brow furrowing as I inch closer to the computer screen. “I think I know him.”
Onyx glances over at me, his face void of any expression except curiosity. “Tell me what you know.”
“Not much,” I shrug, still staring at the computer screen as my mind begins its journey down memory lane. “I was young. He was some sort of friend of my dad’s. I don’t remember much about him, honestly. I just remember him being aroundoccasionally, and he gave me the creeps. He never laid a finger on me though; my dad would have chopped his hand off and fed it to him if he tried shit.”
“You think that your dad knew about him?”
I squint at the screen before standing upright, tearing my gaze from Maxwell’s picture. “I would like to think that if he knew, he would have taken care of him. But then again, if he served some sick purpose in my father’s life, he would have kept him around until he didn’t need him anymore.”
“Want to see the other two that I found?’
I nod, giving Onyx a small smile as he directs his attention back to the computer screen and taps on the keyboard, getting into the files for the other two men he found. I listen to him as he explains what they did and how they got off. The men we target are typically pedophiles or rapists. People who think they can take what they want and get away with it without any consequences.
It was something my father instilled in me, but I was too irrational and fucked up, occasionally targeting innocent people. After I was raped at that stupid bonfire, it became more about vengeance, all the while fulfilling a need. Onyx never had a system, but he developed one after that night.
Before that night, he would kill anyone, without a second thought or blink of an eye. They didn’t have to be guilty in his eyes to deserve death. They literally became a means to an end. An itch that he had to scratch, and that person just so happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.
As Onyx goes through the other two files, I can’t seem to shake the thoughts of Maxwell from my head. I may not specifically remember everything about him or all of my encounters with him, but I remember the way he made me feel. After seeing his picture and studying his face, I can remember one particular experience I had with him.
My father was showing him some of our racehorses in the barn. I don’t know what they were actually doing out there, but that’s how they played it off. My father had just introduced me to his world, and I was still trying to come to grips with the fact that I was accepted and there was nothing fundamentally wrong with me.
I was out in the woods, stalking different animals to kill, but I returned frustrated. I was almost a teenager, if I remember correctly. My mother had called my father into the house for a few moments after I had found them in the barn.
Maxwell started with asking me questions about the horses. My father had been prideful and boasted to him about my excellent riding skills. I never got into the racing scene but I had a horse of my own that I competed with doing mundane show jumping. It wasn’t something I was necessarily passionate about but striving to be the best helped to feed my ego, so I enjoyed it to a degree.
It wasn't long before the conversation shifted into something that left me uncomfortable. Maxwell had a thing with being touchy-feely, and I can’t forget the way he ran his fingers through my hair and stroked the sides of my face, talking about how I was such a beautiful little girl and he couldn’t wait to see what I was going to grow into.
The conversation was wildly inappropriate but oddly innocent in its own way, as he never made any actual sexual comments or advances toward me. He left me feeling extremely unsettled and threatened, and it wasn’t sitting well with me. I had grabbed one of the tools we used to clean our horses’ hooves and clutched it in my hand, ready to attack, just as my father walked back into the barn.
I quickly scurried away without another word. When my father questioned me about it later, I brushed it under the rug, acting as if I wasn't affected and that Maxwell didn’t doanything. Afterwards, I'm sure I wasn’t really feeling much about it. In that moment, I wanted to fucking kill him for making me feel threatened, so that was the real reason why I was feeling out of sorts and restless.
I told my father the truth about my unsuccessful hunt in the woods and how that left me feeling frustrated, on top of all the internal turmoil I was already dealing with due to my impending step into puberty. My father was understanding and found something to satisfy my need—something that wasn’t Maxwell, the real reason behind my restless feelings.
“Let’s save the other two,” I tell Onyx, breaking free from my thoughts of the past. “I want Maxwell taken care of.”
Onyx stares at me for a moment, no judgment or emotion visible on his face, just understanding. He doesn't question my reasons; instead, he prints out Maxwell’s picture and begins to devise a plan, writing down any pertinent information we need to begin our hunt.
I take a step away from the desk, feeling my heart pounding erratically in my chest as adrenaline courses through my veins. We have a system: researching and stalking before going in for the kill. It takes time, and right now I need to dial myself in before I do something impulsive—like snatch this mother fucker in broad day light and kill him in the middle of his fancy kitchen.
