Page 6 of Wicked Nightmare

"No, listen, Kristen, all we have to do is say the same thing. If our stories match, the cops won't even question it. We file the report, say she assaulted us, and boom. She's done. We can probably also get Sally in on it."

I stopped walking. Picked up a bag of chips I didn't want and pretended to read the nutritional information.

"I know she didn't do anything, that's the whole point. She fucked Tyler, so now she pays for it. We make up the story, we both go in together, we cry a little, and they arrest her. Easy. I already know what I'm gonna say." She laughed. "Girl, she's gonna lose her shit when the cops show up. I can't wait. I’ve got the security cams on order so we can watch it later."

Two women plotting to fabricate a crime and destroy someone's life because she slept with the wrong guy. Filing a false police report. Manufacturing evidence. Laughing about it.

I knew what it felt like to have someone else decide your fate. To have people with power use that power to crush you because they could. Because it was easy. Because no one was watching.

Someone was watching now.

I grabbed a tourist shirt off the rack, a gaudy pink thing that said, "Welcome to Sunny City," and grabbed some chips before wandering down aisle two. Smiled at Brinley. She smiled back. Then I knocked a display over accidentally on purpose, sending candy bars and energy drinks scattering across the floor.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I'm such a klutz!"

She sighed and came around the counter with a broom. The camera had a blind spot where the shelving units created a shadow in the corner. I'd noticed it as I wandered the store.

She bent down to pick up the mess. I pulled my karambit from the sheath on my thigh. One quick cut across her throat from behind, deep enough to hit the artery, and she dropped into the pile of candy bars without making a sound louder than a wet exhale.

I wiped the blade on her apron, sheathed it, stripped off my bloody shirt right there, pulled on the tourist pink, and walked out. Dumped the old shirt behind the dumpster in the alley. Must have missed a spot of blood on my hand when I pulled the new one on, which is how it ended up on my sleeve.

That was Brinley. Number twenty-eight. Unscheduled, but earned.

After that, I headed to the tree. My tree. The one across the street from the little girl's house. I sat up there for an hour, watching the dark window with the pink curtains, and then I went home. Cam was waiting, and the rest of the night played out the way it always did after a kill.

And now here I was, hiding, listening to his keys hit the counter, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

The front door slammed shut and a smile broke out on my face.

Oh, Cam was ready to play, and I can't wait for him to take it out on me. I dried off from my quick rinse in the shower just as I heard him tossing the keys on the counter.

"Laaaaakey." He started whistling. "Ooooooh, Laaaakey."

I stifled a giggle, throwing on one of his t-shirts and stuffing myself in his side of the closet. His heavy footsteps thumped around the apartment.

"I can smell your soap, baby girl."

Yeah, the soap you keep using.

He moved around the apartment, rifling through closets before stopping outside the bedroom.

"Lakeeeeyyyy—" His voice was getting closer.

My heart thudded in my chest with excitement, and I mentally scolded myself for enjoying his games so much. He was a charismatic asshole yes, but he was my asshole.

"I know you're in there. Just know, if you have a knife that you plan on attacking me with, I'll choke you within an inch of your life and then deny you an orgasm."

Damnit. I should have thought of that, but I didn't. Oh well.

I knew to leave well enough alone because I did want him to fuck me and for both of us to come. The door swung open slowly, the creak elongating in the silence before his feet thumped against the carpet.

Reaching out a hand, I made to flatten against the wall as his hand skimmed my bare ass.

"Found you—"

I shrieked as he yanked me out of the closet, stumbling into his arms.

"You fucker!" I playfully punched his chest as he laughed, his grip on my wrists tightening just enough to sting.