Almost. Running was always a temporary solution, until Holden felt confident enough to pursue his real goals.
This was something he dreamed about on those long, exhausting runs. Stopping and lurking in wait, until another lone runner got too close.
It was a classic for a reason.
The woman stood up again. She bent at the waist, stretching out her calves, then took off at a steady jog. Her hair bounced with every step closer to Holden.
But as she approached, Holden’s enthusiasm cooled.
He had never much cared what his victims looked like. Killing wasn’t a sexual thing for him. He didn’t enjoy the thought of killing animals, children, or the elderly, but that was just because it felt unsporting. Gender, size, and race didn’t matter.
Holden just couldn’t help thinking this woman looked nothing like Kit. He imagined sinking his thumbs into her eyes, and instead of excitement, he was just disappointed they wouldn’t be so vividly green. Her body would be too tall, too softly curved, as she writhed and struggled in the dirt beneath him.
Frowning, Holden kept fiddling with his turned-off phone. He stayed on the bench as the woman ran past. Moments later, she vanished around a bend in the trail.
Holden killed people for fun. If he wasn’t feeling it, there wasn’t really a point. Every kill was a risk, and if he got caught, it would become much more difficult to kill more people in the future. So, he needed to be careful about how he satisfied his impulses. Risking everything for a boring murder would be stupid.
As he ambled back towards the trailhead, Holden turned on his phone. No need to avoid leaving traces today. He immediately opened his messages and sent:
Holden:help, i’m dying studying for this test :( only a selfie from a really cute boy will save me :( :( :(
Library Cutie:lol wait five minutes
Holden:i’ll be dead by then :( :( :( :( :(
Library Cutie:lol
The single three-letter response filled Holden with an inordinate amount of satisfaction. He inhaled the fresh, salt and sage air, savoring the glory of the evening. There would be other kills. Right now, this was good enough.
Then his phone buzzed again with an image attachment. Holden opened it excitedly—
The poor lighting couldn’t conceal Kit’s sharp features and soft, sleepy eyes. He looked pale, like a languid, beautiful ghost. He was lying back in bed, his head on a pillow, and another man’s arm slung across his chest. Another man’s blurry fingers playing with his dark hair.
Holden’s fist clenched so hard, he cracked his phone case.
24
“Is the striptease really necessary?”
Darius’s last message had sat unread for three days before the client finally replied.
65e487tfrd:I have his location. Is the job still on? I need to schedule another business trip.
jdn267frev3:Yes, thanks for your patience. I understand you must have a lot of people to kill. For proof of death, can you send photos?
Raising his eyebrows, Darius took another sip of his Syrah. He was at his kitchen table, and he’d only cracked open his work laptop to check for messages, not expecting the reply on a Monday night. His apartment was too quiet. Maybe he should have people over soon.
Once he resolved this issue.
He’d had a hunch this client was new at hiring assassins, but this confirmed his assessment. Not just the utter lack of tact. Photographic evidence was a terrible system. Darius wasn’t capable of perfect fakes himself, but if this was a real job, he knew three different people he could subcontract for doctored photos.
Though whoever Darius picked, he’d probably have to pay off the other two in case the client hired them for verification.
Still. Darius much preferred Kit being targeted by an incompetent client. And he much preferred faking photos to faking severed hands or other more complicated proofs. He wouldn’t hire out for this job—he could make decent fakes. Enough to pass a first visual inspection.
Meanwhile, James could embed a virus in the files, so they could find this bastard’s identity and location. The client might be inexperienced at hiring assassins, but he was good at covering his digital tracks. James hadn’t been able to glean anything from the email exchange.
65e487tfrd:Photos will work. Do you have a safe connection to receive them?
