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“You don’t have to get me anything anyway, you know I don’t need much.” I shake my head to myself as I walk back over to grab my phone.

“Yeah, but you know I love gifts. Oh, before I forget, I kind of forgot to tell you…but I’m kind of seeing someone. Well, it’s not like it’s serious, but I met her online and…”

“Her?” I ask.

“Yeah, well, I know I usually date guys but I’m kind of tired of them. Especially after what happened with Ricky. I’ve always wanted to be brave enough to explore my bisexuality but…she kind of appeared on my social media and it just snowballed from there, you know? And she’s great! She’s kind of shy in person, but she’s seriously filling my cup right now.”

“Wow Crys, I’m proud of you! Soooo…you’re gonna bring her, right?”

“Is that okay? It’s your birthday, so I wasn’t sure?”

“What? Of course it’s okay!”

“Okay! I’ll just have her meet us there though, beforehand it is you and me time only, I promise. And…what about your serial killer?”

I laugh, finally plopping myself down on my bed. “Kane would never be caught dead in a place like that. He doesn’t really scream ‘party guy.’”

“Because he’s old?”

“No! Because he’s serious. Jeez, come on! He isn’t that old. He’s…seasoned.”

She snorts. “Seasoned? Well, I won’t pretend he doesn’t look good for his age, but girl, come on. He’s almost twice your age.”

“I thought love was love?” I reply, my voice a higher pitch as I remind her.

“Ugh, okay. Fuck. Fine. I’m not judging you, okay? I’m just mostly worried that you’re going to get your heart broken by this grown man who doesn’t take you seriously.”

“He might not take me seriously yet, but I just know it’s gonna work out, Crys. I really like him. I’ve just…I don’t know. I can feel that this is who I’m supposed to be with. And he might need some more convincing, but I am so close to getting him to feel the same thing.”

“Okay, okay. I trust you. Ugh, I have to go, my mom is calling me, and I’ve been ignoring her all week already. We’ll talk more later, bye!”

She hangs up fast, and I sigh and toss my phone to the side. I know she’s just looking out for me, but it kind of hurts to think she doesn’t trust me. Once she gets to meet him, I’m sure she’ll feel less worried.

I know that no matter what, I’m going to see this through. I feel even better about it after today, because now I know he likes me, even just a little bit.

Maybe I should try the jealous thing again?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Easy Access

KANE

The shop stayed busy enough through the week, and I’ve been taking whatever time I can to show Mason the ropes. He’s a hard worker, but I’m not sure he’s ready to work on a car by himself yet. He needs full instructions and he can’t diagnose shit on his own, but he’ll get there.

I’ve let myself ponder him staying. I don’t feel as adamant about him going back as I was, but I still just don’t see why he’d leave the city and the life he was making just to be in this crap town with me. I want him to get settled, meet a nice girl, and have a normal life.

I’m not sure I can give that to anyone.

I’m still undecided, anyway. I feel so goddamn confused. Between Mason and Layla, I don’t think I can continue my killings. I don’t even know if I’m fucking okay with that. I don’t feel like I’ve done everything I can do.

And what if I stop, and everyone knows I have, so more shit goes down?

I’m not stupid enough to think that the justice system will ever change. They will do as they always have—catering to the evil and deranged. Because underneath their elitist masks, they’re the same type of people. The same ones who get off on abusing women and children. The same ones who find camaraderie in the ones who stand before them in court. Why do you think they don’t bring the hammer down the moment it’s proven?

But I don’t mind being the hammer. I like being the hammer. Moreover, I want to prove that I can be. I guess…what I know of Layla, it makes me feel a sense of pride. I’d never ask for details, but I can only assume based on the public records. Which I may have checked again. I can’t help but feel good that I’ve brought her a sense of security.

I never let myself think of the countless survivors and victims whose lives I’ve changed. If I do, I start imagining them. If I stop the killing, what will I be? Who am I without it? I barely feel like I deserve the fucking air I breathe if I stop. Like if I don’t spend the rest of my gifted days here being useful, that my life is pointless.