2. Wes

Chapter two

Wes

“ W essy,” her angelic voice echoes. “Come find me, Wessy!”

Siobhan loves playing hide and seek. Running through the trees in the park, I’m searching for her. “Shivvy.” I call out to her, “Where are you?” The leaves crunch under my boots as I look behind every tree I walk by. I adore my little sister and even though there is an eleven year age difference between us, she’s my entire world. Catching sight of her red hair out of the corner of my eye, I make a dash after her, and when I reach her, I scoop her into my arms as she squeals in delight.

“You caught me, Wessy!”

The shrill tone from my alarm wakes me from my dream, and as I reach over to turn it off, I realize I’m drenched in sweat, even though I left the balcony door open last night. The chill bay air drifts into the loft, sending a shiver down my spine. I always have more dreams of Siobhan when I’m getting close to killing another pedophile. It’s as if she’s feeding into my motive from the afterlife. Like I need more motivation than her death. She’d be fourteen if she was still alive today and my heart aches for her every single day.

My feet touch the cold hardwood as I get out of bed and start my routine before heading into work. Into the kitchen, I open the fridge and grab an energy drink. The condensation on the can dripping onto my hand, I turn on the stove and start making a pot of oatmeal. Adding in cut strawberries and some brown sugar, then leaving the bowl on the counter so I can go shower while it cools.

As the water hits my back, its scalding temperature causes a sharp sting. Washing myself, the soap rinses from my body and my hand drifts down to my cock. I haven’t killed anyone in months, so I’m already on edge, not to mention the fact that I haven’t fucked in at least a year, so my thoughts are a little clouded. Images of Layne dancing to the beat of the music flood my brain as I stroke myself. The thoughts of her obsidian hair draped across her bare skin, I imagine her amber eyes looking up at me while I’m on top of her. The precum leaking from the head of my cock has me stopping, shuddering and hitting the wall as I force myself to regain control. “Fuck…”

After getting out of the shower and dressing in one of my many suits, I sit and eat. The tracking for Samuel Baker hasn’t made any significant moves, and I half expected the piece of shit to try to re-offend days after being released. I was wrong. I’ll be there when he does, though. If he thinks the criminals in prison were scary, just wait until he meets me. The tip of my blade at his throat will have him pissing himself and wishing for death. Samuel’s death will belong to me.

My gun holster beneath my suit jacket and keys in hand, I lock the warehouse and turn to my car. “Morning, beautiful.” Slapping the hood of the black ‘64 GTO as I move to get in. The grand state of California hates that I own a classic car, especially one that is smog exempt. Getting in, she purrs to life as I start her. The low rumble of her engine still gets me every time. Throwing it into reverse, I back out of the property. The security gate ticking closed before I pull onto the main road.

My home and warehouse sit right by the bay’s edge. I have my pier that leads out into the water, with a boat docked, just in case I ever need it. It’s pretty impressive for a twenty-four year old in San Francisco. I made a big name for myself in the DA’s office when my uncle got me the job. With my obsessive personality, I helped close up some of the most long-standing cases in the city. The perks of my job make my little “hobby” exponentially easier. While I’m close to taking out my most recent prey, a new one has emerged.

Layne.

She won’t be my normal game of predator and prey, though. I don’t want to kill her. No, I want her for myself, I want to make her mine. I’ve never felt such a powerful urge to protect someone as when I watched her at the concert. Nobody since my sister. The urge I felt drawing me to her was also one of primal, carnal, need. I need her to be mine.

I have a raging hard-on as I pull up to the office, which means I need to stop thinking about Layne.

Leaning my head back against the headrest as I take out my cigarettes from my breast pocket, then flick the lighter open and set it ablaze. With it between my lips, I inhale deeply, letting the smoke and nicotine flood my system. Exhaling through my nose, I groan. I’d rather be learning more about Layne than working today.

Exiting the car, I stub out the cigarette before I reach the door, and toss it into the trash. Courtney greets me with her usual smile. “Morning, Wes. I had those files put on your desk for the next few cases that Davis is taking on,” her eyes scale my body. She wants me, but she’s not my type. Blonde hair, fake tits, and a fake personality on top of that. Hard pass .

“ Thanks, I appreciate it,” I say, not even glancing at her and making my way down the hall.

My office is the epitome of minimalist space. I find it difficult to work in a messy and disorganized environment, so I keep things neat. Unfortunately, Courtney haphazardly put the files all over my desk, spread out. It annoys the shit out of me when she does that. Setting my drink on the coaster, I start thumbing through the various files.

A murder suspect, a wife beater, and a crooked business owner. Various lowlives to choose from, but none of these pique my interest. Thumbing through the file of the wife beater, I get to see how much of a piece of shit he is. Only been married a year, and she has called the police a whopping forty-seven times. He beat her so badly that she ended up hospitalized for three weeks. Perhaps I’ll make an exception for him, the world could do without him.

The sound of a knock at my door has my head snapping up and I take in my boss. The District Attorney, Davis Grady, lets himself in. “Wes, my man,” he takes a seat in front of my desk. “Just the person I need.” He chuckles.

With a slight recline in my chair, I keep my eyes on him. “Davis, what can I do for you?”

Davis straightens and looks around the office, a frown in place. “You should add a more personal touch, it’s so empty. You’ve been here for years now, Wes.”

Stifling a laugh. “It’s just how I like it. Empty.”

“ I see you got the files, what do you think?” He inches forward, his eyes darting to one specific file. Grabbing him the one of the murder suspect, I push it toward him.

“ This is the one I’ll start with.” I know how Davis operates. Regardless, this is the one he wanted me to pursue. He desires to maintain his reputation as the top DA in the Bay Area, and this murder case will do just that. Making sure he stays on top. Not to mention also keeping up my status quo as the best investigator in the field. It makes my life ten times easier, knowing nobody would ever expect Wes Larimore to be a serial killer.

Listening to Davis drone on about the case, I let my mind wander back to Layne. After Davis finishes, I grab my stuff and the file, and head out. I need to scope out the murder suspect, Markus Bowen. Hopping into my car, I take off and to keep myself focused, I turn on some music. The Exies blast as I go to the address on the file.

Markus is still a no-show after waiting outside for hours, so I send a text to Davis with an update. Then I’m on my way to my favorite burrito place to grab a bite to eat. Burrito in hand, I lean up against the car savoring the delicious food, up until my phone pings. Pulling it out, I see that Samuel made a quick detour on his way to work this morning. He drove right past a middle school and it makes my blood boil as I wrap the rest of my burrito and toss it back into the bag. The engine roaring to life again, I make my way back to Markus’s address.

More hours pass, and I’ve determined that he’s smarter than I gave him credit for. Returning to the office, I drop off the file and let Courtney know I’m leaving since Davis is in a meeting. But before I go, I lock my office.

I need to see her again tonight.

Layne is all I can think about.

Headed home, I keep thinking of her. Her smooth skin covered in ink, like my own. Her piercing eyes that I long to be lost in. I want to know everything about her, her likes and dislikes, to her deepest secrets. My curiosity extends to wanting to uncover the fascinating stories behind the sights she’s witnessed and the songs that have the power to make her heart soar. It forever changed my life when I first saw her. Layne Murphy.

Once in the loft, I change my clothes into something more comfortable for my stalking activities. Black hoodie and jeans with boots, then I grab my mask just in case I need it. Unlikely, but you never know when you might need to hide your identity. The zombie faced mask has the shock factor, and has made every single victim piss themselves.

Checking the time, I decide to wait longer for darkness.With my car parked a few blocks away again, I make the walk to Layne’s apartment. I can see her moving around, and as I get closer I can hear music blasting. Deciding to chance it, I climb up the fire escape and get a closer look. Hiding in the corner, with a view of her apartment, I get to see that Layne is in nothing but a baggy band shirt and booty short underwear.

It makes me smile to see her twirling and moving around within the room, but I notice when she seems to be bumping into surfaces multiple times. My brow furrows as I look around and see the bottle of vodka on the counter, which indicates she’s intoxicated and my stomach clenches at the thought that she’s drinking by herself. After the song ends, Layne turns off the stereo and goes to the counter where she pours herself another glass and downs it.

When she puts the cup down, she leans into the counter and I can see tears falling down her cheeks. Maybe she’s just an emotional drunk? She turns and goes into what I’m sure is the bathroom, then comes out a few moments later only to flop onto her bed. Watching as she cries herself to sleep, my heart shatters as a wave of emotions flows over me. I want to make her pain disappear.

Over an hour later, she’s asleep and so I pull at the window and it slides open. Again. With silent footsteps, I cautiously enter the room, careful not to make a sound, even as the floor creaks beneath my boots. Rolling my eyes as Layne shifts, I flatten against the wall next to the fridge as she sits up and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. Its rhythm echoing throughout the room.

After a minute, she lands back on the mattress with a loud thump, clearly still asleep. That was close. Too fucking close. I need to be more careful, but my feet carry me closer to the bed regardless. As I crouch down in a corner, I watch her sleeping on her side and hear that whimper again. Another nightmare. She says nothing, only cries and soft sounds leave her lips. I wish she’d say a name, so I’d have someone to pursue for hurting her.

As I watch her struggle, I think of all the ways I could change her life. If she was mine, she wouldn’t have to be afraid of whatever was causing her nightmares. She’d sleep well and I’d fight the monsters away. Hell, I’d fuck her until she was too exhausted to need to drink herself to sleep.

All the scenarios are living rent free in my brain right now, but when I check my watch I determine that it’s time to go. I need sleep so I can be a functioning human for work tomorrow.

I have to locate a murder suspect.