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“Not anymore, buddy,” the prick said.
Brad’s jaw tightened, and he said to Ashley, “You want to go with him?”
“No.”
“I don’t want trouble,” Brad told the guy, “but the princess doesn’t want to go with you.”
“Ashley,” the guy said, his voice stern, “you come with me right now or I’ll tell your dad about your fake ID.”
“Excuse me?” Brad said.
“She’s seventeen.”
“No way.” He dropped his arm from around the girl and stared at her. No way she was seventeen. But…he wasn’t certain. He didn’t care how old she was—she was definitely old enough to screw—but now the situation was fucked. Her boyfriend could identify him.
“Ashley?” he questioned.
She pouted, but didn’t say anything.
Brad wanted to strangle her. “You can have her.” He pushed the bitch toward her boyfriend. “Fucking tease.”
“Jerk,” Ashley said, but Brad didn’t know if she was talking to him or her boyfriend, and he didn’t care. He wanted a warm body to screw, to do exactly what he told her to do, and he was going to have to find a hooker, because no way he was going to jerk off.
He barely heard Ashley arguing with her boyfriend as he walked down the alley toward his car. Damn fucking jailbait tease.
SEVEN
I am the teacher. The master. The keeper of truth, justice, and the American way.
Silently, my laugh cuts into the night as I wait, watching the dark house. Superman? Yes, I am a superhero. I do what no man has the balls to do.
I educate females, as much as the stupid, vacuous, weak creatures can be taught.
Females disgust me.
Foul, pathetic things, they lie as easily as they breathe. Their hair is rarely the shade God intended. The false colors embellishing their faces are a physical testament to their continuing lies. The jewelry on their necks, in their ears, on their fingers—diamonds and sapphires and gold—catches the light and shines, but none of those baubles can compare to the simple unadorned beauty of a perfect gem.
The mask that females wear is a lie. When they look in the mirror, they lie, even to themselves. When they look at me, they lie. With their eyes, their mouth, their hands.
They lie with their bodies. They lie with their words, their fingers, their thoughts. Women think they are invincible, that they can do whatever they please, that they can lure men in with their falsities and gimmicks and then enslave us. We’re always giving, giving, giving… money, a house, a car, jewelry. They take, take, take, and the lies pile up.
I am the keeper of the truth. I expose deception, one by one by one, until they accept the truth. Until they get on their knees and obey.
They die so I can live. The ultimate sacrifice for love. The punishment for betrayal.
I watch and wait because I am patient. The house is dark again. I arrived late tonight, but now I have time to wait. Watch. Wait. Tick. Tock. Time passing. My time wasted. Months of my valuable time wasted! And why?
My anger grows, a real, living being that taunts me. Fills me with heat that is both fearsome and welcome.
She thinks you’re nothing.
I consider leaving the anonymity of my car, walking into her yard, and waiting for her. When she comes home, I will slit her throat.
My vision darkens and for a moment I see nothing. I want her to understand that her actions have consequences. I can’t teach her if she is dead.
Lights cut a swath in the foggy night, blurry and indistinct. The car slows, stops.
Lucy Kincaid is home.
