“I ran into a few people that made me nervous, that’s all.” I take a gulp of air and lean my forehead against the cold glass of the door.
“That’s all? Where are they?” He moves to get around me, grabs my shoulders, and pushes me against the wall. He opens the door and runs outside, then stops on the sidewalk, looking left and right. I can’t help creeping forward to peek around him and look for them too.
He’s a good man. A bit older than me, but that doesn’t matter. I wish I were attracted to him. He’s smart, we enjoy the same things, and he is good looking, but he is too polished and perfect. Nothing is ever out of place, and I feel like I’m a constant wreck.
“No one is out here. Are you okay?” His hands fall to my shoulders again and squeezes. “Maybe you should go home. Get some rest. You look pale.” Andrew brushes a piece of hair out of my eye, and a thud smacks against the door.
“What the fuck?” Andrew tilts his head and that’s when I see a long knife, the metal gleaming against the sun.
“Oh my god! Are you okay?” I can’t believe that just happened. That was so close to his face.
He pushes me away, and another knife lands in the door with another hard knock.
I scream as Andrew tackles me to the ground, pushing me inside the store. My head hits the floor causing my ears to ring, but other than that, I’m okay. Andrew cups my face and whispers harshly, “Stay back, Daphne. Stay away from the door. I’m going to go call 911.” He kicks the door shut from where we’re laying, and he pushes himself to his feet. He locks the door, then grabs a chair and pushes it under the knob. “No wonder you hurried back here. What if that would have hit you? Oh my God, you could have been killed, Daphne.”
Yeah, but it wasn’t my head the knife landed by.
I don’t think I was the target. But do I know that for sure? No.
I creep toward the bay windows and sit on the bench and stare outside, trying to find the source of where the knives were coming from. The familiar feeling of someone watching me takes over again, and something moves across the street in the alley between the candy store and the laundry shop. The alley is dark. I can’t see anything, but I look straight ahead.
I feel the moment we lock eyes because my breath gets taken away, and my heart stutters. I get to my knees, the cushions providing support against my legs, and lay my hands against the window.
Someone is there.
The shadow moves and when he steps forward, the light glistens off his dark hair, but I can’t see his face.
“What are you doing?” Andrew yanks me from the window and drags me between the bookshelves until I’m behind the front desk, safe.
Is it odd that I felt safer locked in a stranger’s eyes than I do right now?
I’m going to kill him.
I don’t like that guy being all over Daphne like that. I intentionally missed his head. I didn’t want to scare Daphne, but I wanted to scare him.
She’s mine.
I don’t know how I can make her mine. I’ve never been interested in a woman before, so I don’t know what goes into convincing a woman to date. No, not date. I don’t want to date.
I want to be submerged, and I’m already obsessed.
And when I set my eyes on a target, I never change direction. I hunt until I get what I came for. The problem with Daphne is I’m not sure what I’m hunting for. I don’t want to hurt her. I want… I want…
Damn it, I don’t know how to put it into words. All I know is when I stare at my hands, then look across the street from the alley into the bookstore window, I don’t want to hold a blade. I don’t have the urge to kill when I look at her. I don’t have the need to cut out tongues.
I think—no, I know—when I see my murderous hands, all I can see them doing is holding her now.
I ache for the solitude I know she can give me.
I’m not sure what to make of that. I love my blade. I love cutting out tongues. It’s something I need to do in order to survive. No one knows my story. No one knows what I’ve been through, not even Reaper. I’m fucked in the head after what my uncle did to me. I’m as good as I’m going to get, and people either need to take me or leave me.
I want Daphne to take me.
No one knows what to do with me, so I’m ignored. I know I’m different and misunderstood, but part of me wants to come out of the dark. I live in the corners, in the shadows, and it’s where I feel most comfortable and safe. But Daphne is all light, a bright sun rising on my nighttime soul.
She makes me crawl out of my hole because her light feels good. It’s warm. I’m always so damn cold, and I’ve never met someone who thaws the frozen blood pumping through my veins in the matter of an instant. Part of me is brought back to life from the quick moment we shared those few weeks ago.
It scares me.
I’ve only been this type of man.
A killer. A fucked in the head murderer. A sadist.
I’m not the kind of man a woman like Daphne wants. She’s supposed to be with men like the guy in the bookstore. All pretty and normal.
Yeah, but I don’t want her to be.
So she won’t be.
If I knew what is good for her, I’d let her go. Lucky me, I don’t know the definition of ‘good’ too well.
I step into the darkness of the alley again, and my heart pounds from our eye contact. She knows I’m here. She felt me until that fucking guy pulled her away from the window.
I sneer, curling my lip when I think of his face and perfectly parted hair. Is that what she likes? Does she like short hair? I reach up and grab the ends of my straggly mane and grunt. It’s just hair.
But would she like it?
I run my palm over my head, debating if I need to cut it for her. Maybe Sarah can cut it for me. She’s my friend. She’ll understand.
Sarah is great. She’s Reaper’s ol’ lady. We’ve connected in ways I haven’t ever connected with anyone before. I think it’s because she’s kind of like a mother hen to me. She cares about me, and I soak it up because I’ve never been cared for. It’s nice to feel love.
I flatten my hand on the brick wall, letting the rough stone rub against my callouses. Feels good. I need to leave before the cops get here, but I can’t seem to move. I need to watch her to make she’s okay.
Police sirens whirl in the distance and quickly come closer. Red and blue lights reflect in the window of the bookstore, bringing back a memory I wish would stay gone forever. The night I killed my uncle. I don’t regret it. If I had to turn back time, the only thing I would change is killing him sooner.
Two cop cars park right in front of the store. A big guy steps out of one, and he has a huge round stomach and a turkey neck. My fingers itch to cut all the extra fat off and send it to my swamp kitties, but I think it will be frowned upon if I killed a cop. Reaper can only be tolerant about so much, and becoming a cop killer is stretching it.
Maybe.
Maybe no one needs to know about it.
It’s something to keep in mind.
The other cop is in shape with tattoos down his arms. His uniform is a bit too tight, and he puffs out his chest when he sees Daphne through the window.
I growl under my breath. I want her eyes only on me.
The guy who works at the bookstore opens the door and steps outside to talk to the cops. My eyes land on Daphne, who stands in the doorway, and her shoulder leans against the wall. Her cardigan is pulled tight around her, emphasizing the small swells of her tits. I wish I were her sweater, right up against her skin, cloaking her.