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“Ghost, just tell—”
“I sent his address to your phone,” he deadpans, then ends the call.
I choke down the roar that wants to rip free. What did he do?
My knuckles are white from my grip on the handlebars, the texture pressing painfully into my calloused palms as I speed in the direction of Drew’s apartment. I weave through traffic like a maniac, barely registering the cars swerving around me and blaring their horns.
I’m out of my fucking mind—I know I am. But nothing in this world can calm me down. I have a list of other problems I should be handling right now, but that call from Ghost changed everything.
A growl rumbles low in my chest. “Motherfucker!” I roar, my voice carried away by the wind rushing around me. I can’t just kill him now. Every aspect of this needs to be thought out, planned, and executed perfectly if I want to eliminate my chances of getting caught. I can’t risk the club. Although…
An image of Lillith runs through my mind, her delicate little neck arched back in a moan while that dull-eyed fuck slides his cock inside her. Just the thought of it sends me into a blind rage, and I begin to doubt the strength of my willpower.
No. I can’t lose control. I won’t let myself.
The promise rings hollow in my mind as I round the corner, but it doesn’t deter me. I pull into the shadows of the alleyway between apartment buildings and hop off my bike. I walk through the front doors and over to the stairwell, making sure to keep my movements slow and calculated as I ascend the three flights to Drew’s floor.
The building he lives in is better than Lillith’s shit sty, but that doesn’t make picking the lock on his door any harder. As soon as it clicks, I shove through and into the foyer of his apartment, closing the door softly behind me as I take a look around. A faded brown couch stands in the middle of his living space with the only other piece of furniture being a small TV leaning against the opposite wall. The carpet is littered with crumbs, mysterious dark stains, and reeks of cat piss.
I look around the place in disgust, my stomach roiling with the thought that such a revolting man breathed the same air as my flower. With a snarl of contempt, I storm over to the closed door I assume is the bedroom, nearly tearing the handle clean from the wood as I jerk it open.
The fuck? I look around the room, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Dozens of pictures line the two large whiteboards in the corner of the room, each of which depicts a different young woman. A large stack of manila envelopes lay in disarray on the nightstand to the side of the bed, piquing my interest far more than the half-blurred portraits.
I grab the top-most file, rip it open, and pull it closer to my good eye to inspect further. A blurred Polaroid is paperclipped to the uppermost corner, featuring a smiling blond woman. The rest of the page is filled with handwritten information, each line allocated to a different aspect of her life. Out of curiosity, I grab a different one from the bottom of the stack and flip it open. My eye immediately shifts to the bottom of the page where the words “FULFILLED” are stamped in bold red letters. My stomach roiling, I throw the offensive folder to the ground, knowing all too well what that means. What I don’t know is who the fuck he’s working for… though I have my suspicions.
I’m about to turn away from the pile when I notice a particularly thick folder near the top, bursting to the seams with the amount of content forced inside. Out of curiosity, I yank it open, causing dozens of photos to fly. I pick one off the ground and pull it up to my eye, the sight causing my chest to constrict with some unknown emotion as I stare at the young woman in baggy blue scrubs.
Lillith.
Crushing the photo in my palms, I squeeze my eye shut tight, my chest heaving with the effort to keep from tearing the place to the ground. That fucker. He’s the one who put the tracker in her locket. He’s been following her, just like me. And from the looks of it, he’s taken a personal interest in the raven-haired beauty. I can’t believe I didn’t think to investigate the fuck. If I’d been thinking clearly, I never would have been blindsided by something like this. I assumed he was just another one of her dopey friends, always following her around like a lost puppy. Harmless.
A roar rips its way from my throat as I force my fist into the drywall, tearing a large hole through the thin plaster. Fuck everything I thought before. Fuck the plan, fuck the repercussions. He’s going to pay for this.
A few hours later, the lock on Drew’s door clicks open, alerting me to his arrival. I step back into the shadows behind the door, every muscle in my body taut and ready to fire at any given moment. Drew steps into the apartment a moment later, whistling as he slams the door closed behind him and all but skips toward the bedroom.
Stupid fuck doesn’t even realize I’m here. My fist clenches as I watch him disappear behind the bedroom door. I step out of the shadows, stalking slowly over to the door, and throw it open, unable to wait a second longer. Drew looks up from where he’s crouched on the floor, cradling the ashen remains of all his hard work to his chest.
“What the fu—” His eyes go wide as I close the distance between us, cutting off his question with a right hook to the temple. Smoldering fragments fly from his arms as his body slumps to the right, hitting the floorboards with a soft thunk. The single hit is enough to knock him out cold, but it doesn’t slow me down.
Weaving my fingers into his hair, I drag his limp frame to the middle of the room, then let go, smiling cruelly as his head hits the ground with a sick thud. Straddling his chest, I grab the dagger from the back of my pocket and slide its edge across his throat, watching little beads of crimson pool along the thin red line like a string of pearls.
Wake up, you fucker. I twist the knife so its edge presses into the base of his jaw. When he doesn’t stir, I force the blade upward, a sickening squelch accompanying the knife as it pierces through several layers of flesh and muscle. I stop only when I feel the resistance at the roof of his mouth. Ironically, it’s the same moment he decides to come to.
Drew’s eyes go wide as he tries to scream but only manages a pitiful garble due to the blade pinning his tongue to the roof of his mouth.
I twist the blade to draw another muddled scream from his lips. You deserve this, fucking rodent.
Looking down, I notice a wet spot growing around his crotch. I let out a disgusted sound as I stand, making sure to leave the blade safely lodged in his gullet. Stalking over to the bed, I palm the only picture I saved from his collection, running my thumb gingerly over the portrait as I admire it for a moment.
Lillith’s perfect white smile stares back at me, the tip of her nose covered in a dollop of whipped cream from the ice cream sundae in her hands. Her raven-black hair is tied back in a messy bun like usual, but the expression on her face is one I’ve never seen, and ultimately what stopped me from destroying it like the others. She looks happy.
I fight the urge to tear it to shreds, forcing my feet back in the direction of Drew, still lying helpless on the floor with blood pooling around the wound in his mouth. Crouching down by his head, I shove the photo in front of his eyes.
“Why do you have these?” I demand, letting him hear my voice for the first time. “Who are you working for?”
Drew shakes his head vehemently, his mouth partially stuck open, showcasing the slim piece of steel keeping him from speaking. I roll my eyes as I reach down, yanking the blade back out by the hilt. A wave of blood pours from the gash, and his eyes roll back as he threatens to lose consciousness again. Oh no, you don’t, fucker.
Gripping him by the scalp, I haul him into the bathroom and throw him in the corner by the toilet. A malicious grin carves its way across my mouth as I pull him up and shove his face inside the toilet bowl. His instincts kick in, and he flails, trying desperately to get his head out of the water. I hold firm on the back of his skull, not caring about the countless amounts of DNA he spews across the pure white tiles. The only thing that matters right now is that he suffers.
