Chapter One
Menace
The hovelwhere my target lives is in the worst part of town, the place where you don’t walk down the street at night without fear of being robbed, where you’d run the risk of stepping on crack pipes or heroin needles if you’re not careful.
None of that scares me. I grew up in a place worse than this, a trailer park that sucked you in and refused to let you leave—not without a habit or a record.
I got lucky. All I got was trauma.
I park a few blocks away, being sure to stash my car where it can’t be seen or stolen. With my hood snug over my head, I hop out of my car and make the short walk to the apartment.
I pull down the fire escape ladder and climb up to the second floor. There’s no reason to check to see if the window is unlocked. I just smash that motherfucker, reach inside, and unlock it. I’m sure I could have broken the lock without him hearing me, but I kinda want him to be afraid.
Climbing inside, I grumble when my foot lands on an overfull trash bag, the garbage sinking under my weight. I make as much noise as possible, wanting to see the fear in his eyes.
“Who the fuck are you?” my target, Denton, slurs as he stumbles into the living room, an old, filthy undershirt on thatI’m sure he hasn’t washed since he took it out of the pack. His pants look two sizes too small. He probably had to jump several times to get them up his thighs.
“Hey, Denton,” I murmur, pushing my hood back.
He stares at me, his fuzzy eyes going in and out of focus. “How do you know my name?”
I shrug and pull out my knife, tossing it from one hand to the other. “I know a lot about you, Denton. Like you’re a piece of shit abuser that killed two of your wives.”
He stumbles back until his back hits the wall. He tries to push off, but I’m sure he’s too deep in the bottle to be coordinated. “Fuck those bitches. They nagged and nagged and didn’t listen to shit I said. They got what was coming to them for mouthing off.”
I walk over to him in three long strides, pushing my forearm to his throat hard enough to make him wheeze.
“Mouthing off, huh?” I tap my knife on my chin. “You’re mouthing off to me right now. That mean I can beat you until you meet the devil?”
His face pales and he tries to push me off. He’s a bigger man, taller than me and with more bulk, but he’s too drunk to be effective, his clumsy hands sliding down my forearms. “Anyone here with you, Denton? Or are you alone?”
“Why?” he asks and I paste my knife to his throat, making him freeze his movements as his eyes peel wide.
“Are. You. Alone?” I repeat through clenched teeth.
“I’m alone,” he rasps.
“Bullshit,” I seethe. “Who thefuckis here? You got another wife you like to beat on?”
“I said I’m alone! Besides, those bitches were weak. None of them could handle me.”
I roll my eyes, then jab the knife in his upper thigh. A scream peals from his throat and I headbutt him. His scream peters off into a low groan.
My forehead will bruise and Sya will be upset when I show up tonight, but he pissed me off.
“Motherfucker,” he huffs, trying again to shove me away. “I apologized to those whores. I said?—”
“You killed them, Denton! You can’t apologize after you take someone’s life! Your fists made them feel lower than dirt. They’re fuckingdeadbecause you can’t control your fucking temper, you toddler.” I grit out, my heart racing with anger and excitement. “Now it’s time for you to feel how you made your wives feel.”
Denton’s bottom lip trembles and I see remorse and fear flicker through his eyes. Too little, too fucking late.
Getting closer to him, so close that his stench burrows into my sinuses, I ask, “Who else is here?”
“I swear, it’s just me,” he stammers. “Listen. I’m real sorry. I need some help. I can get better. I just need another chance. One more chance and I’ll prove it to you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Denton,” I mutter, pulling the knife from his thigh, smiling as his scream fills my ear. “Motherfuckers like you never change. The only way to stop your bullshit is to stop your heart.”
“No! No!” he shouts, pushing me off with a shocking amount of force and struggling to run to the back of the apartment with his fucked-up leg. I allow it, watching him hobble to an open room. “Someone help me!”
