Chapter 12

NATHAN

Ishouldn't have stormed out of that meeting. Even as I continued marching toward my car, I knew I was being childish and reckless.

Ask me if I cared.

With a swift motion, I yanked my tie out from around my neck and undid my cufflinks so I could roll up my sleeves. I felt itchy, constricted, out of control.

I knew what I needed but I had promised myself I would be better for Aiden. That I would be the man he needed me to be. Apparently, I couldn't even go a week being that man.

The urge to kill was like a living thing crawling under my skin. If I didn't give in, then things would be bad. That was the last thing I needed. I didn't need Aiden becoming collateral damage to my urges. And I knew what would happen if I kept ignoring what was inside of me.

I'd only done it once, shortly after my parents died. I tried to contain it, to hold it at bay. Then I blacked out and woke up fourteen hours later with a body count of over a dozen. I'd been drenched in blood from head to toe as if I'd bathed in it, at some cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Every day I still wondered if someone would knock on my door looking to lock me up for what I did that night. But no one ever did.

I threw the car in gear and peeled out of the garage. I needed to get to Clint and take care of him. He needed to go. Once I purged the desire for his blood, then I'd be okay for a little while. Maybe when I was done with him, I could work on trying to go longer between kills.

But I knew it was a lie. I'd never be able to, never be able to do it except how I'd always done it. Especially if I didn't want to risk my little bird.

I'd kill Clint, then go back to Aiden, and everything would be fine.

For the moment.

I let out a growl as I sped through the streets and stopped a little ways from Clint's house. There was a light on, so I knew he was home. Not that I didn't already know he'd be there. That was the point of stalking and finding out everything I could about my victims.

My thoughts raced, and I knew I was spiraling. I needed to calm myself. But the only way I could do that was by having someone at the end of my blade. As much as I hated it, having Aiden at the end of my cock only did so much. He could only sate me for so long before the need to kill became overwhelming.

I sat and watched, waiting for the moment my prey left his house so I could grab him. With a glance at the time, I noted he should be getting ready to leave any minute. Not wanting to miss my opportunity, I got out of the car and made my way down the broken sidewalk and past the vacant houses and those I knew had residents who wouldn't want to notice what was going on around them.

That was one of the good things about the neighborhood Clint lived in. No one saw anything. Ever. Even if they did, they didn't.

Just as I got to the front of the house, there was movement in the front window. I slowed my pace to give Clint time to get out so I could grab him. Thankfully, I didn't have long to wait as he scrambled out a minute later.

I pretended to be preoccupied, so we bumped into each other when he got to the sidewalk.

"Sorry, dude," I offered, giving him a crooked smile. He looked taken aback and tried to take a step away, but I clutched the needle in my fingers, brought my arm around his neck in a friendly gesture, and let the needle slide into his skin, easy like butter.

Clint's eyes went wide, and he pushed me away right before he started to lose his balance. I grabbed him to keep him upright and laughed like we were old friends. Like I was his buddy there to help him. He clutched at me and tried to swat, but I paid no mind. We walked to the car, and I got him buckled in.

While I had a house conveniently across the street, it was too close for comfort. After I took care of Clint, I'd come back and clean the place out of my equipment so it would look like no one had been there except maybe for surveys and inspections. No need to lead the police right to my door.

It only took ten minutes to get to my kill house, and by the time we arrived, my passenger was slumped against the door, passed out but still breathing. While it would be easy to do a quick, no-fuss kill with something like a drug that couldn't be detected, I needed the blood. I needed to feel their lives slipping away from them.

That passive shit didn't do it for me.

I parked the car in the garage, and when I got out, I grabbed Clint and carried him down to the basement that had already been set up for the evening's activities. Tying him down to the table took no time at all, especially since he couldn't struggle.

A smile crossed my face a few minutes later as he woke up, screaming, to the feel of my blade slicing from his armpit down to his hip. It was a deep cut, but that alone wouldn't kill him.

Probably.

"You can scream all you want. We're in a secluded place with no one around for miles. So go ahead. In fact," I said, looking around, thoughtful, "if you scream real good for me, then maybe you'll make it go faster. I do actually need to consider the time since I want to be able to call my boyfriend and talk to him before he goes to bed."

My words made me giddy like a schoolgirl. I had a boyfriend. Someone I'd do anything for and who would do anything for me in return. It was a heady feeling. A novel feeling of knowing there was someone for whom I'd burn the world down if I needed to, or if he asked. It was something I thought I'd never get to experience.

"Please, whatever you want, you can have it. I don't have much, but I'll get you whatever you need." Tears streaked down Clint's face as I swiped my blade across his chest, creating long, shallow cuts. "Please, please."

His begging lit me up from the inside. Not in a sexual way, the way Aiden could light me up. Killing was more like the satisfaction of a job well done.

"That's it. Just like that," I encouraged. But my words only seemed to turn the other man into a blubbering mess, unable to form coherent words.

I continued to slide my knife through his flesh and swiped a finger through his blood as though it were finger paint. I wore gloves, but I hated them. There was nothing like feeling the blood on my skin. But I had to be careful. I couldn't get caught.

Clint's breaths got shallow in what felt like no time at all. Pity. I wanted to play longer but I also knew that since I had Aiden, I couldn't spend as much time with my victims.

Another pity.

But he was worth it. I'd rather be with him anyway.

"Goodbye, Clint." I moved behind his head, flicked my knife across his throat, and reveled in the blood spray that covered him and the plastic sheeting that surrounded us.

My phone went off while I watched the life drain from his body, along with his blood. I glanced over to where it sat on the other table and saw it was Aiden. Thinking about him texting me while we were both working made me smile.

AIDEN: Want Chinese for dinner?

I stared at the text and the body before me and frowned. There was no satisfaction over Clint's death. No elation or release of endorphins or whatever the fuck it was that made me feel good after a kill.

Instead, I just felt as cold and empty as the body in front of me.

Fuck.