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The man in the mask.
The monster who could have killed me but didn’t.
Why not?
With a cold, violent shudder, I pull my hoodie tighter around me and glance over my shoulder before I hurry toward my car.
Every shadow feels like a threat. Every sound is amplified by my fear.
I fumble with the fob, my hands shaking as I press the button to unlock the door and slip inside. The silence of the car is almost suffocating, but it’s the only place I feel safe right now.
Safe.
I laugh, a short, bitter sound that echoes in the emptiness of the car.
I’m not safe, and I never will be.
Not anymore.
3
MAL
Fear is a delicious sensation.
She might think I’ve vanished into the shadows, but I’m still here, watching. Waiting. She runs, just like I knew she would—a little unsteadily at first, her hands trembling as she fumbles with her car keys, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps.
I watch through the glass I cracked when I pinned her to it. Watch her scramble toward the black Audi, her steps uneven on the dark, empty street.
She thinks she’s safe. She thinks she’s escaped.
She’s wrong.
I just enjoy a chase.
The night wraps around her like a shield, but I see everything. Every frantic glance over her shoulder, every flinch at a sound that echoes too loud in the stillness. She’s running on adrenaline, trying to escape the memory of my hand at her throat. Trying to forget the weight of my gaze on her from behind my mask.
I’m still watching.
Even though Idoenjoy a chase, I’m still not quite sure why I let her go. My grip tightens on the windowsill as I watch her slip into the driver’s seat, her silhouette barely visible through the glass. The engine roars to life, and for a moment, I expect her to peel away immediately, tires squealing against the pavement in her panic. But she hesitates, her face dimly lit by the glow of the dashboard. She sits, frozen, staring out into the darkness like she’s waiting for something—like she’s expecting me to come after her.
My jaw clenches.
I fuckingshould, and finish what I started when I first caught her. I should’ve killed her. It would’ve been clean, easy. No witnesses. No loose ends.
Why didn’t I?
I’ve killed for less. Strangers, enemies, men who crossed me by accident. But something about her...the way she looked at me, defiant and terrified all at once...
I scowl.
I don’t like this feeling.Uncertainty.
I’m not used to it.
My hand hovers over the hilt of mykatana, the scent of blood from the men I cut down still hanging in the air.
The smell of death and the rush of violence don’t bother me. They never have. It’s the one thing I can rely on—holding the weight of death in my hands and knowing with absolute certainty that I can control it.
