“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. Acting like I was his buddy and I was there to help him made things less suspicious. Made me less memorable. He clutched at me and tried to swat me away, but I paid no mind.
We walked to the car, and I got him seated and buckled in with no problem. He leaned to the side, up against the door, but to anyone passing us, he would just look like he was drunk or passed out.
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 was obvious Aiden was already suspicious enough. I was just thankful the house was in the name of one of my other businesses.
It only took ten minutes to get to my kill house on the other side of town, 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, trying to scream behind the gag I’d shoved in his mouth, 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.
I ripped off the tape and gag with a smile as he let out a blood-curdling scream.
“Fuck you, you fucking psycho! Let me go!” He spat at me, though he missed by a mile.
It only made me smile more.
“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.
But the thought made me sober as I remembered him showing up at my office earlier in the day. Everything was being ruined before it even really started.
Son of a fucking bitch.
I needed to figure out a way to get him off my trail. My desperation was going to make me sloppy, which would get me caught. I couldn’t have that.
The last thing I wanted to deal with was being faced with the choice of it coming down to me or Aiden. Because I didn’t know which one of us I’d choose, no matter how much I wanted to be able to say I’d pick him.
“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 again while I watched the life drain from his body, along with his blood. I glanced over at 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.
I stared down at 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.
