9. Loren

9

LOREN

The day I kill Daniel is the day I see him hanging around outside Oakley's house, even after they told him to leave. The absolute fury I felt from him being near my man was overwhelming.

It started as a quiet day sitting in my room, not doing anything. I wasn't even looking out the window. Mostly because I've been trying to convince myself that once I end Daniel, we can leave. I don't need Oakley. I don't even know him. What the fuck is wrong with me that I feel such weird possession over a man I've never spoken to?

So I try to convince myself by any means necessary that this is just a job. I'm here in this house because Oakley is his target and Daniel is showing concerning behaviors. I'm biding my time before I have the opportunity to kill my target.

That's it. This is personal because it's a job I should have taken care of already. I shouldn't be revisiting it because I should have killed him over a year ago when Noah told me about him. Sometimes, I will take on a project sans contract just because. For example, I will always do it if Noah asks me to.

The memory of which makes me smile. I should call Noah.

Just as I'm picking up my phone, Imry steps into my room. He frowns at me and then glances at my window. Immediately, my body tenses. "What?" I ask.

"He's here."

I don't ask who as I basically launch myself from the bed. I'm in my window within three seconds. The way my blood boils at seeing Daniel banging on their front door has me ready to explode. I can hear the banging now. It's faint, but I hear it. Each impact of his fist reverberates through me and I'm absolutely fucking furious.

There's a struggle inside me as I watch. I don't want to look away in case I miss something important. Like if he makes it inside. Or somehow pulls Oakley through the door. Something that's going to make me lose my mind.

Yet, I need to get down there. I need to pull that fucker away and lock him in my trunk until I bring him somewhere that no one will hear his screams. Like the desert. There's lots of desert in Arizona.

Eventually, I break away and careen out my door to the stairs. My head is filled with a single thought—Daniel is going to die today. I'm going to murder that fucking piece of shit for going near what's mine.

Or… because I'm finishing a job I should have already. Yes, that's the reason.

As soon as I throw open the front door with Imry and Myro on my heels, I stop dead. Two police cruisers pull up to Oakley's house and there's a small showdown during which they get out and pull their guns while standing behind their open car doors.

Daniel spins around with his hands up, trying to look innocent. I actually hear him call that this is a misunderstanding and that his boyfriend will clear it all up.

I growl. I actually physically growl.

"Dumbass," Imry says. "Like Oakley is going to corroborate his story. They're likely the ones to have called the police."

"You mean in addition to me calling the police," Dad says as he joins us in the door.

We watch as they take Daniel into custody, shoving him into the back of one of the squad cars. Only once he's locked away does the front door open. Several minutes go by while they speak to the police officers. My gaze is ping ponging between Oakley and Daniel—who is scowling out the cruiser window.

Myro pulls me back inside just as the cops turn around. I now watch from inside as Dad crosses the grass toward an officer coming in our direction. They meet on the sidewalk and talk. I try to determine what they're saying, but even with the window cracked, I don't hear much. Just their voices, too low and indistinct to distinguish their words.

After the police leave, I wait all of three minutes before heading to the basement to gather my gear.

The car Myro and I share for murders is in the attached garage, closed off from the rest of the world. It's a generic gray SUV, with nothing to make it stand out. As soon as I stuff my gear into the back and slam it closed, Myro is there. He grips my wrist, preventing me from rounding the car to the driver's side.

"You can't grab him from the police station," he drawls.

"I don't plan to." Actually, I do.

He frowns. "This is the first time in your entire life I've caught you in a lie," he says.

I hear the trunk open behind me and then close again after there's more dumped in. My entire body is jittery. I can't let this man get away. He needs to die.

"In the back," he says.

"I don't need you?—"

"Honestly, don't give a fuck what you want right now, Loren," he insists, opening the back door and waiting for me to climb in. Imry is already behind the wheel.

I'm so frustrated, I'm shaking.

"Get in," Myro says.

"I'm going to kill him," I promise.

"I know."

"You're not going to tell me how to do it."

"No, I'm not," he agrees.

I stare at him, irritated and fuming, until finally I drop into the backseat. Myro waits until I'm tucked inside before shutting the door and getting in the passenger seat. I don't need to check my door to know that they've put on the child locks, including the windows.

"If you don't let me out when I want to?—"

"Relax, Loren," Imry says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror as the garage door opens. "We're on your side. Daniel Rollins-Alabaster will die today at your hands, however you want to kill him. We're not going to stop you. We have no intention of standing in your way."

"Then why are you here?"

"So you don't get caught."

"You outright lied to me, and it was entirely obvious," Myro adds. "On any given day, you're highly volatile when you're as emotional as a wet rag. You're acting on emotion right now. I imagine in your mind, you're justified in killing this man."

"It is justified," I say.

"Why?" Imry asks.

"Because he's harassing Oakley!" They saw that! What kind of question is this?!

"I promise you, the law will not agree that it warrants him being murdered," Myro counters. "Considering Oakley doesn't even know you exist, Loren, there is zero reason right now that would justify your rage in anyone else's mind."

I huff. It comes out just shy of another inhuman growl. I really don't give two fucks what anyone else thinks. Harassing my Oakley is reason enough for him to die. I'd kill anyone bothering him. That's what you do when you… uh… love someone?

I'm sidetracked by this thought as the car moves down the street. Just an hour ago, I was convincing myself that Oakley was nothing. He's just a guy caught in my target's web. I'm looking out for him for this reason alone.

That's why I've followed him to school this last week. And the coffee shop. The store. Library…

Lowering my eyelids, I sit back and fold my hands over my stomach. I can't love. I don't have the capacity to feel emotions of this kind. He's nothing. He's no one. This doesn't exist for me.

I go over the cornerstones of my diagnosis as I sit in the backseat and check off all that apply to remind myself that Oakley is nothing to me. Lack of empathy and remorse—yes. Clearly. Arrogant and feeling superior—I mean… sure. Manipulative and deceitful—I absolutely can be and have been when it suits my needs. Anyone without the name Van Doren, except Noah, only ever gets that side of me.

Poor impulse control—I suppose sitting in this car because I planned to pick up an asshole right from the police's parking lot is evidence enough of this. Criminal behavior—see previous remark. Impulsive and reckless—again, see previous remark.

Callous and unemotional—I don't know that I'm often callous, but yes, I am most certainly unemotional. The one I disagree with is poor relationships.

Well, to be more accurate, poor relationships outside of my family and Noah are completely true. I don't have any. The women I fuck are just that—the use of a body. I've only ever pretended to be ‘normal' long enough to get what I want.

However, I do not have a poor relationship with anyone in my family. A conversation with Noah reminds me I do have loyalty. It might not be something that's truly driven by emotion or feelings or anything, but it's something deeper than that. These are the people who have always supported me in my most authentic version of myself. My brothers are here because they don't want me to get caught. They're always here, no matter what.

I've killed a man for Noah without question, simply because he asked me to. Well, not in so many words, but I told him I'd take care of him, and I did. Daniel started for this same reason too.

He is still my target for this reason.

Everything means Oakley is simply nothing. He's happenstance. Someone I apparently found pretty. That's it. He's pretty. And I like to fuck pretty girls. Does it matter that he's not a girl?

The car stops and the engine turns off. I blink out of my thoughts and sit forward between the seats. We're parked on a side street, watching the front of the precinct.

"You calmed down now?" Imry asks.

I don't answer. I'm feeling slightly confused because I feel no differently concerning all the characterizations of my sociopathy. Yet, I'm reacting as if Oakley is Noah or one of my brothers, even having never met this man.

I can recognize this in myself. But acknowledging it doesn't change how I feel, though. It doesn't change the pit of rage in my chest or the way my blood pulses in my ears with the need to react.

"No," I admit, frustrated.

"We'll bring you somewhere where you can let it out however you want," Myro offers. "Just hold on."

"What happened to keeping it passionless?" I ask.

"You're not going to be able to do that, are you?" Myro asks as he shifts in his seat to look at me. I don't answer. "I'd be rather assured that you have a safe place to do what you need to do than try to convince you to let me kill him instead."

"No," I say, fists clenching.

"I'm not going to. That's my point. Instead, I'm going to make sure you're not caught. Okay?"

He means well. He loves me the way I am, and this is how he shows his loyalty.

I nod. It's jerky because I can't put off the urge to just walk inside and pull this stupid fucker out of there by his hair. He's scum. Surely they'll understand that.

It's hours. Fucking hours before he's let out. I both hate and am relieved that he just walks out of the precinct. Fortunately, he's walking this way. When he crosses the street, I'm ready to barrel out of the car and slam him into the side of the brick building next door. I reach for the door just as he passes, but the fucking thing won't open.

I slam my fist into it and turn my outrage to face Imry.

He doesn't say anything. Just starts the car and drives around the block. We spend the next ten minutes following this fucker. If he notices, he doesn't care. It takes far too long before we pull over and both of my brothers get out. There's a scuffle that doesn't last long and then he's in the trunk.

We drive on without a word. My entire body is jittery, knowing he's right here. I can pull down the seat and reach him. He's not moving, though. Not making any sound.

"You better not have killed him," I say.

"Just put him to sleep for a few hours," Myro promises. "Long enough to get us deep into the desert."

I'm even more impatient when we have to stop to fill up the gas tank so we can get back out of the desert. Still, I sit quietly. Patience is not something I'm good at, so I spend the time going over the fact that my rage is unjustified and makes exactly zero sense. I can tell myself that it's because Noah asked me to help, and I let this asshole go.

But even I know it has nothing to do with Noah at this point. It has everything to do with Oakley and the knowledge that he's fucking mine. I don't even care if he doesn't know it.

When we finally stop, it's dark. Only the moon lights the world around us. Daniel started to move around, thump, and yell over the last ten minutes. I use his voice to stoke the flames inside me.

We pull over and my brothers still don't let me out while they prep the area, which consists of putting down an enormous tarp and attaching a grader to the back of the SUV. Once they're satisfied, Myro hauls Daniel out as Imry opens my door and hands me my favorite knife.

There's nothing exciting about the knife; it's basically a stainless steel kitchen knife. Still, I love the familiar weight in my hand as I stalk toward Daniel. He's tied up, but Myro undoes the ropes as I approach.

Daniel stares at me, his eyes darting to the knife. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

"You deserve to die," Myro says conversationally.

"Why? What have I done?"

"Playing stupid isn't going to work in your favor," Myro retorts. "Your most recent transgression goes by the name of Oakley."

Daniel's eyes are still on me when Myro releases him and he falls forward onto his hands and knees. Looking up at me, he shakes his head. "He didn't tell me he has a boyfriend. You should be mad at him and not me for dating him. I didn't know."

"He doesn't have a boyfriend," Myro says as I grip Daniel's hair and haul him backward. He screams, but the sound is cut off by the angle in which I have his neck.

"He has a guardian angel," Imry says, amused, as I drive my knife to the handle into his stomach.

He dies slowly over the next hour as I carve into his body, making sure he feels every single tear of his skin. Only when he's lost consciousness, either from blood loss or pain, do I finally kill him.

Myro rolls his body off the tarp and we strip our clothes right there. Myro washes the blood from my skin as Imry rolls up the tarp and stuffs it back into the trunk. We're dressed in sweats as we climb back in the car. Behind us, the grader wipes away our tracks until we're thirty miles away and my brothers haul it back inside.

The car gets dumped into one of the warehouse buildings for our cleaning crew, but the tarp we shove into the incinerator ourselves. Then we head home, though I only feel slightly better about the situation. Daniel is dead, but I'm still not sure what to do about Oakley.