Has she left me?
Storming down the hallway, rage and fear thump steadily alongside the beating of my heart. I throw the men’s door open, peering inside, doing the same for the next—a storage room. I’m so caught up in the tormenting thoughts I don’t even see the abandoned heels on the ground before I’m nearly tripping over them. The rage is instantly extinguished, only to be replaced with a sort of terror, the kind of which I have never experienced before.
She wouldn’t run off without shoes on.
The emergency exit has been left ajar, and I stalk towards it, almost afraid of what I’ll find on the other side. Worried that the watched feeling was accurate, that Rebecca is gone because I ignored it.
When I see Rebecca pressed up against the wall, the man looming over her, pawing at her bare chest, I feel my monster tearing at me to be free. A red mist lowers over my eyes, and I lose myself to it, tearing him off of her, knocking him out with several brutal blows. Backing away, my chest heaving with brutally harsh breaths, I see Rebecca laying on the ground in the filth that litters the alley.
Falling to my knees beside her, I scoop her into my arms, silently wailing at her unconscious form. Glancing down the darkened length of the alley, I make my decision. Laying her back down, I draw the scraps of her dress over her, trying to cover her as best I can.
Placing a kiss on her head, I pull myself to my feet and race towards the end of the path. Coming out onto the road, I loop around to the front of the building and jump into the Jeep, driving it around and backing it into the alleyway. Carefully scooping up Rebecca, I lay her gently on the backseat before hauling the rapist prick up and tossing him into the cargo space, uncaring when his head bounces off the side of the car.
One thing I am meticulous about when I travel to a new place is getting to know the area and finding safe spots. Areas not covered by cameras. Abandoned buildings. Places where I’ll be safe if I have to kill someone. Even though I often don’t need to employ them, there have been many times over the years that it’s come in useful, and now finding these places comes automatically.
The street I’m headed to has been completely bought out by a construction company, due to start demolition in a couple of weeks. Making way for a new hotel, the houses have been emptied and abandoned—I couldn’t ask for a more perfect place.
The drive does nothing to lessen the rage that steadily thrums through me, coursing through my veins. No one touches my girl. My mouth ticks up into an evil smile as I contemplate all the ways I can make him suffer. Make him pay for daring to lay a hand on my woman, for hurting and scaring her.
When a line from a movie starts repeating over and over in my mind, I nearly laugh out loud over the perfection of it.To the pain.Yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do.
A soft moan comes from behind me, and I reach back, patting her on her shoulder. “You’re okay, baby, I’ve got you,” I say softly, letting her know she’s safe. I risk a quick glance back before turning back to the road; we’re almost there.
I can hear her moving, sitting up. In the rear-view mirror, I see her clutching her head, her eyes only half open as she looks out the window. “Where are we?” she whispers, swinging back to face me.
“We’re taking out the trash,” I reply, shooting her a quick grin.
Pulling into the driveway of the house I had located, I help her out, steadying her as her legs wobble beneath her. She clings to me, wrapping her arms around my waist, resting her head on my chest as she breathes out trembling breaths.
“I was so scared,” she murmured, nuzzling into me. “But I knew you’d come.”
“I’ll always come for you, Rebecca. Always.”
Settling her back against the Jeep, I take off my shirt and put her in it, doing up the buttons for her. That asshole isn’t going to get another look at her.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her, giving her a onceover. Her knees are scraped, and bruises are forming along her neck and cheek, causing that red mist to lower once more. He marked her.
Trying to reign in my temper, I let out several deep breaths.
“A bit better, but still a little shaky,” Rebecca admits. “What did you mean about taking out the trash?”
Taking her hand, I pull her to the back of the Jeep, opening it with a flourish. Rapist Cunt is still out, the fucking pussy. He’s more than happy to hit women, but can’t take a couple of punches himself.
She gasps when she sees him, then looks up at me, a smile slowly forming. “Is this for me?” she asks cheekily, that smile turning into a wide grin. “Why, Trey, you shouldn’t have.”
Laughing back at her, I drag him out of the cargo space, then lift the floor panel, grabbing my lock picking tools out of the box that I keep hidden under it. Handing the box to Rebecca, she takes that as I haul him towards the front door. Dropping him on the ground, I get the door open, ushering Rebecca inside, then go back for the asshole, who is finally starting to stir.
Throwing him to the floor of the living room, I glance around, taking in the stained seventies carpets and peeling wallpaper. It’s a fucking dump. It’s perfect. Righting an overturned chair, I place the box on it, letting Rebecca see what’s inside.
Duct tape, rope, chains, padlocks, knives, a gun, scalpel, gloves, hammer, bone saw. There are even utensils, a flashlight, matches, and lighter fluid—even the iron I stole from the vacation rental where we killed Earl. I was never a Boy Scout growing up, but I fully believe in their motto: Be Prepared. I never leave home without it.
If the cops ever pull me over, I’d be fucked. It’s why I don’t ever drive nice cars, or ones painted red. It’s why I follow every road sign, every speed limit. My chances of being pulled over just from being black are high enough as it is, but if they found my kill box, well, I wouldn’t fancy my chances of making it out of the encounter alive.
Rapist Cunt groans, rolling over onto his back as his eyes slowly flutter open. He coughs twice, then scoots himself into a sitting position, looking around blearily. When he focuses on us, he shuffles backward, his back hitting the wall behind him.
“The fuck?” he mutters, brows lowering into a frown as he looks between me and Rebecca.
I show him my teeth, the look on my face too sadistic to be termed a smile. I stalk towards him, and he grimaces, flinching as I get near. “Look at this little pussy boy, flinching away from me. I thought you were the big man? Taking my woman, putting your hands on her. And now you’re cowering like a fucking mouse?”
