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I can’t seem to stop.
And I’ve never been the kind of man who couldn’t control his urges.
But after what she showed me, that back covered with scars…fuck…the need for vengeance, to scorch the earth with the ashes of her enemies grabbed hold. Desire to find every last one of her transgressors took root until it grew into something stronger. Palpable. And it spreads with every second I look into her eyes.
My heart…it beats a little faster, my anger raging out of me at the thought of someone hurting something so beautiful.
They will pay. I will find every last one of them. I will steal their breaths until they’re burning with their demons.
The things she’s endured…
Those scars were all over her back. Like someone had fun carving her up.
My nostrils widen. Prison won’t stop me from killing every single one who hurt her. And I will give her that. I will give her their hearts, and she will know I did it all for her.
While I start to roll the dead man into the tarp on the floor, she plays with the hem of her shirt.
Why do I feel this way? Why do I want to be the one to wash away the blood from her broken body, to erase the evidence of our sin, to clean her and dry her and dress her? I want to do all those things.
But I can’t. I can’t let her see my face. Know me. It’s never been part of the plan. I must resist the temptation.
The nuns would approve.
I force myself to focus on the body before me.
The furnace waits for this child molester, one of many that have known the flames. Casius comes to mind. The way he screamed. The way he begged. It’s too bad I had to drug this one, or he’d have begged too.
There’s something fascinating about hearing them scream like that, knowing you’re doing it to them. There’s power. Power stripped away, power given. A mutual exchange.
The news of Casius’s disappearance has begun to spread, but the police haven’t found a body, nor will they.
And no body means no crime. It’s beautiful how the system works.
His friends have told the authorities that Casius had begun gambling again, that he may have owed the Albanian Mob a lot of money. And those guys don’t like it when you don’t pay them back. They take more than just a finger. They take your life, and it seems like Casius was next on their list.
What a shame. He had his whole life ahead of him.
If only he hadn’t been such a piece of shit.
I finish with the body and start on the few rug stains she left behind when she kept stabbing him, probably seeing the faces of the men who hurt her instead.
I get it more than she realizes. Sometimes, as I’d kill, I’d envision the nuns who beat me, the families who took me in for short periods of time, swearing to take care of me before they turned to monsters too.
My scars may be different, but they’re just as deep.
She clears her throat, her arms around herself, her silky hair draped over her shoulder. I long to feel it. Want to get lost inside her. To own every inch of her. To know that there’s a way to feel more…more of the feelings she brings out and less of the rage I’ve been born into.
“Are you sure you don’t want my help?” Her mouth flutters.
“No.” I shake my head. “Don’t want your DNA anywhere.”
Nodding, she says, “Thank you for helping me with this.”
Her eyes are doleful and down right sweet. She’s tempting me even as she does nothing but stand there.
I grow hard again at the sight of her, my cock throbbing and heavy, wanting to feel her pretty cunt clasp around it. But I can’t fuck a woman who’s gone through what she has. I can’t be the man to give her that. I can’t give her anything. Nothing but my undying promise to always stay one step behind in case she needs me.
But then I realize she’s going to have a future. She may not know it yet. But she will one day, and I’ll still be there, watching.
