20

I'm going to gut this motherfucker.

The dark sensation of completeness rolls through my body. I feel the buried urges in my brain flicker back into life as every memory surges back into me.

Psychiatry has trained me to overanalyze things. Sometimesit'sas simple as action and consequence.

This piece of shit—Mike—made the choice to take advantage of Ava tonight.

Nowhe'sgoing to deal with the consequences.

Sometimes it's as simple as desire.

Ava is pure intoxication: her face, her body, her scent. The fact that she's trying to destroy me makes it even more delicious. This woman recognizes the darkness inside me. She understands it like no one else does. But she's using that powerin favor ofthe law, not justice. I need to make her see it could all be so much simpler.

Even if she doesn't know ityet, she has a dark guardian angel watching over her.

I slip out of the shadows, striding over to the table where Mikeis waiting forher. I probably only have a minute or less until Ava returns from the bathroom. Unless she's come to her senses and climbed out the window to escape from this asshole.

"Excuse me, sir." Mike looks up at me, annoyed at the distraction. "I work for the restaurant. I wanted to let you know that your car is being towed in the parking lot."

"Fuck," he mutters. "Are you serious? This is the worst timing."

He glances back at the bathroom before hurrying out of the restaurant without a word of thanks to me. I smile down at the empty table before spinning around andsurreptitiouslypicking up an empty water jug from the table by the exit, pushing the door open after him.

I follow his silhouetteoutinto the night into the quiet parking lot, ignoring the light patter of rain from above.

He's standing there, staringwith a perplexed expressionat his carsittingundisturbed where he left it.

I'm close enough behind him to hear him under his breath. "Idiot waiter."

He turns, walking headfirst into me where I stand.

"Jesus. Watch where you're going."

He tries to push past me, but I raise a hand to stop him. "Leaving your date in there all alone without a goodbye. Rude, don't you think?"

"What?" He frowns. There's a flash of recognition in his eyes as he focuses on my face.

But it's far too late for him.

I smash the glass jug against the dome of his head, and he crumples to the ground.

He doesn't even have time to put up a fight.

***

Usually, I like to have a plan. But I'm okay with winging it once in a while.

Sure, I didn't have my mask on,andI was still wearingthe same clothes as earlier.

But this kind of improvisation doesn't stop me from dragging Mike's body across the parking lot and dumping him into the back seat of my car. If anyone saw, it would probably look like he'd just had too much fun at the barandI was helping him get home.

Sometimes, the risk just makes it so much fucking sweeter.

He's tied to a chair in the basement of my house when his eyelids finally flutter open. A groan drags from his mouth.

"Where the hell am I?" he slurs.

His eyes slowly rise to where I stand in front of him. The expression on his face morphs from anger to terror as he takes in my appearance: the masked face, all-black outfit. "Who—who the fuck are you?"

"I'm not going to waste my breath explaining myself to you, Mike. Not when you only have about—" I leisurely grab his rope-bound wrist, twisting it at an angle to check the time on hisgaudygold watch. "Ten minutes to live."

Tick. Tick. Tick.

His eyes bulge at the sound of my distortedvoice,filtered through my mask. "Let me go!"

He rocks back and forth on the chair, but it'sno use. His wrists don't budge from where they're securely restricted in place.

I shift my head to one side, taking a step forward. "Let you go so you can run back out into the world, taking advantage of women as you please?"

"What the hell are you talking about?I don't know what you think I did, but you've got the wrong guy, seriously."

"So you weren't just out on a date with a woman? An extremely lackluster date, I might add."

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "That's what this is about? That Ava chick? I'd only met her once beforeandnothing happened, I swear. Her sister set us up."

"And yet you planned to get her drunk with the intention of using her."

The memory of his phone call washes over his face. "I—I was just kidding with a buddy of mine. I didn't know anyone was listening in. I wasn't going to actually do anything to her."

"So if I look into your ex-girlfriends, I'll find no accusations. No whispered confessions of what you did to them."

He frowns, his eyes flitting to the side and back as he spitsouta lie. "No, of course not. I'm a good guy. Any of them will tell you that,justask them—"

"The thing is, Mike, I'm a busy man. I don't have time to do all that tiresome research. So you'll have to excuse me if Ijustmake a snap judgement instead."

I slip the knife out from behind my back. Mike makes a strangled sound, his eyes fixing on my weapon.

"I—I didn't know she had a boyfriend. I swear to god I didn't know."

"I'm not her boyfriend. I'm so much more than that. I'm the man who fucking owns her."

Terror is rising in his voice. "Jesus, you can have her! Just let me go!"

I laugh. The sound is cold and humorless. "She's not yours to give away. Not any more than your life is yours to keep. Do you believe in good people, Mike?"

"Yes. I'm a good person, I swear—"

"People like to call me good. Trustworthy, generous, honest. But I know there's a dark side lurking beneath the surface. Which leads me to think there's no such thing as a truly good person."

"I promise," he sputters. "I'll never say anything like that again. I'll change. I'll be better."

"I know a therapist you could have talked to about that." I raise the knife, glancing at it. It glints in the light. "But it's a pity. He's a little busy right now."

I take another step forward. Mike screams. The sound is animalistic. It produces no pity in me. Just pure, pulsing adrenaline.

"You're going to kill me for what I said about her?" he gasps. "You crazy fucking psychopath—"

I swing the blade around, slicing his throat mid-sentence. Blood spills down, soaking his cheap button shirt. He sputters, then his head lolls forward lifelessly.

A deep fire of satisfaction burns through my veins.

Unlike the other killings, this body doesn't need to be displayed. There's no art to be found in plain, ordinary Mike. And I wouldn't want to implicate Ava in the murder, not when she was the last known person to see him alive.

I need to make quick work of clearing up the body and disposing of him. It's oddly satisfying as the murder itself. With each step, Mike fades from existence. Bit by bit. Until it's like he was never here.

But it's not just the sweet satisfaction of a kill. It's that I did it for Ava. Killing to protect her is a pleasure like no other.

Bye bye, Mike.

Good fucking riddance.

I hold up his severed hand, checking the time on his flashy watch.

Ava will be long gone from the restaurant by now.

It's time for the hunt to begin.