I chuckle, “Stalker.”
“Eh, I haven’t stalked you in a while. Why not do it again like the good, old times?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Fine, fine. You win. Let’s do this.”
Arlo’s response is a nod, and that’s all the encouragement I need. My feet carry me deeper into the forest, my speed increasing with each passing moment. Branches snap beneath my shoes, the soft, night breeze throwing my hair back.
That’s when I spot my first prey of the night.
It’s a woman, whose crimes are similar to the one my mother has committed against me. The mere sight of her is enough to raise my blood pressure, and I halt for a moment, sucking in a deep breath.
Then, I’m all over her.
My weapon of choice tonight is a sharp knife Noelle’s gifted me, and it’s sharp enough to slice through the fucking bones. She screams when she spots me, but I don’t hear her — I’m focused on the warm, thick blood that splashes all over me, coating my clothes, soaking through the fabric.
Paul Simmons is dead. And I thought it would be enough to get rid of the anger that I’ve been holding in my entire adult life. But it’s not. His death was the trigger I needed. Now, I’m able to regulate my emotions, and as long as these games continue, I know I’ll be just fine.
Maybe it’s immoral, maybe I’m no better than murderers who spend their lives behind bars, but at this point, I don’t care.I live to kill those who hurt children and abuse them through cruel, vicious ways.
I’ll be their voice in the world.
I’m just the executor of their revenge, because despite the fact that every single prey has been brought from a prison, it’s not enough. These people need to suffer, and I’ll deliver the punishments.
When her body goes limp beneath me, I don’t stop.
I can’t stop.
The need to see her organs, her bones is too big for me to resist. The need to dismember her entirely wins, and I don’t try to fight it. My hand is trembling, slicing through her flesh, and I’m still watching as the blood pours from the wounds.
It’s such a perfect sight.
Maybe I’m no better than the Devil himself. Maybe I’m just too selfish, too conceited to see the error of my ways. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be a Saint in my next life, if such a thing exists.
For now, I’ll spill the blood of those who I deem deserving of it.
And no one is going to stop me.
THIRTY-SIX
I’m walking barefoot, the grass tickling my feet from underneath. Arlo’s holding my hand tightly in his, the free one holding a basket with food and some drinks. We didn’t remember to bring a blanket, but we don’t need one. It’s a warm summer evening, and it’s perfect for whatever Arlo’s thought of.
He sits on the grass, patting the spot next to him. I oblige, sitting close to him. His arm immediately wraps around my shoulder, pulling me into him. I smile, leaning in and observing the view.
He brought me to one of the highest points in the city, and we’re able to see the New York lights perfectly. The entire city is lit up, the noise fading away while I’m with him. My eyesclose for a moment, and I let myself take in the moment, before looking up at him.
“Why are we here?”
“This is where I was only a couple of months ago, while you were kidnapped. This is the same spot from where I watched the city burn.”
My stomach flips, heart skips a beat, and the love I feel for Arlo suddenly seems ten times more intense. I lean in, kissing the side of his neck softly, and a small smile tugs on the corners of my lips.
“That must’ve been one hell of a sight.”
He hums. “It was. It was when I knew that I wouldn’t stop until I found you, and I did. Just to make sure we’re on the same page, I’m never letting you go. You know that, right?”
“Well, considering we’ve been married for years now, I’d be surprised if you suddenly asked for a divorce.”
A nervous chuckle slips his lips. “You haven’t forgiven me for that?”
