“When she gets here, I’ll be here for her however she needs—just like I am with you, Santi, and Rhett,” Wes agrees, his voice is gruff and tense. He doesn’t look at me as he continues speaking. “But I’m telling you now, if you lay a hand on her?—”
“I swear on my life—” I interrupt. “—that Iwillnot touch, Blair. I’ll keep my distance.”
The noise he makes sounds suspiciously like a scoff of disgust as he steps away from me—done with this conversation. Before I can call him back to reassure him that this will be fine, the burner phone in my back pocket vibrates. I stiffen in surprise, then in hope. All thoughts of Wesley disappear as I reach back for the device.
I flip open the phone, hoping like hell it’s who I think it’s from.
It’s not from Blair. It’s from her father.
W: Has the bird landed?
What thefuck? Anger heats my face as I glare at the screen. Anchor knows better than to reach out. Any communication could be intercepted.
While I’m pissed, I can’t say I’m surprised.Of course,Anchor would want to make sure his daughter is safe. He might have raised her in a questionable lifestyle, but he always had her best interests at heart. Blair will always be his little girl.
With stiff fingers, I reply:
Me: Still in flight
I let out a sigh and shove my phone back into my pocket. More than anything I wish I had better news for him.
Chapter 3
Rhett
Ascream whips through the forest.
The terror in the sound is good, but I think it could be better.
My booted feet crunch the first wave of leaves that have fallen off the trees. Twigs snap, bush branches shudder as I brush by them, and the heavy blade of my axe drags along behind me, making even more noise. I can make all the noise I want right now, and I have a feeling my victim wouldn’t even notice. They’re probably too focused on the masked man chasing them to worry about anything else at the moment.
A mistake they’ll learn shortly.
Until then, I continue to walk without fear of being heard. Another scream ripples through the darkness. It’d be a chilling sound to anyone else. To me, it’s an indication of victory. There are monsters that lurk in this world. They hunt down the most innocent of beings and destroy them, piece by piece. Those monsters take joy in hurting those who can’t defend themselves. And, once they’ve committed the most heinous crimes, theytend to walk away without any repercussions. They blend into society; someone’s father, a bank teller, a teacher, a clergyman, politicians... Monsters come in all shapes and sizes.
It took a while to understand that. Their camouflage is so good that you could be talking to a monster and not even realize it.
To deal with these monsters, I’ve donned my own camouflage. I’m a different creature, monstrous in my form of justice, but it is righteous, and I only go after those who fucking deserve it.
“Help me! Someone, please! Help!”
My pace doesn’t quicken at the sound of shouting. Neither does my pulse. Fear doesn’t visit me. There’s only one thing I fear, and that’s being locked away, unable to continue this thankless job of ridding the world of men like the one running through the woods now. I can hear tonight’s monster approaching. His footsteps loud, his breathing even more so. He whimpers, the sound so pathetic that it causes the corner of my upper lip to pull up into a sneer.
He thinks being chased by a masked man is bad? I can’t wait to be the one to make his night even worse.
The man, Jonathan Bale, is this month’s eighth monster I’ve hunted, and will be my forty-fifth kill this year. Living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, luring assholes who turn off their phones and lie about their whereabouts, makes eradicating monsters easy. I promised Santi I would slow down after this one, though. There are only so many bodies we can chop up, chip up, burn, and bury before what we do becomes too obvious.
So, I better savor tonight’s kill while I can.
“Hey, hey you! Please, help me! There’s someone after me!”
My lips pull into a smile that I don’t actually feel and can’t be seen behind the humanoid mask I’m wearing. It’s an automatedresponse. I used to enjoy this, and parts of me remembers that—my lips being one of them.
I don’t acknowledge Jonathan as he rushes toward me from my left. I always wonder what I look like to the monsters I hunt at this moment. Do they ever wonder why I’m out in the dark so late at night?
“Can you hear me? Please! I need help!”
Jonathan sounds breathless. It’s funny how out of shape monsters can be. Given that the small cabin he’d just bolted from is less than a quarter of a mile away, you’d think they wouldn’t be so winded.
