1
Paranoia skates down my spine as I walk a little bit faster down the sidewalk. The cold night air fills my lungs, and my heartbeat thuds loudly in my ears. All I can see and feel is that creeper from the party coming up to me and grabbing my wrist. His fingers biting into my flesh. The smell of alcohol on his breath as he spoke into my face.
“Dance with me…” He didn’t ask, he demanded, and there was no way I was going anywhere with him, so I kicked him in the nuts and left the party. But now I can’t help but feel like he’s following me.
Reaching the end of the sidewalk, I chance looking over my shoulder. My gaze falls on nothing but darkness. The light pole above my head does very little to illuminate the street, and when I look back again before crossing the street, I find someone walking toward me.
Panic bubbles up inside of me, and this time, I start running. The air rips through my hair, and my lungs burn as fear implants itself deep in my gut.
Run. Don’t look back. Just keep running.
Cutting down a side street, I hope to throw the guy off, but as I continue running, I can still hear his footfalls behind me. This has to be a nightmare, something I’ll wake up from any second now.
Glancing over my shoulder, I realize it’s anything but a dream. My eyes catch on the plaid pattern of the man’s shirt. Instantly, I know this is the creep from the party. Shit. Instinct tells me to run, but deep in my gut, I know what I should do.
My hands shake as I try and pull my phone out to dial 9-1-1, but my fingers slip over the sleek device, and I keep putting the wrong passcode in. Panting, I make it underneath an illuminating streetlamp and force shallow breaths into my lungs.
A grunting sound meets my ears, and when I look over my shoulder again, the man is gone. Just gone, vanished like he wasn’t there at all.
Dazed, I stare at the exact spot he was in, fearing he’ll reappear any second, but he doesn’t. A strange calmness washes over me. It makes zero sense, but I don’t dwell on it long enough to digest it. Instead, I shove my phone back into my pocket and run the rest of the way home.
By the time I reach my apartment, the exertion is evident, I’m gasping, and a sheen of sweat has formed against my forehead. I fumble with my keys, almost dropping them before finally getting the damn door open. Once inside, I slam the door closed and lock it before turning and sagging against the door.
A moment later, Max is by my side. The eleven-year-old cat I rescued from being euthanized last year has been my most trusted friend. I sink my fingers into his long fur and let his low purring calm me.
You’re okay, everything is okay… I repeat to myself.
It’s been years since I’d felt fear like that, not since I was a little girl living in foster care. My skin crawls, and I suppress the thought.
All that matters is that I’m safe. That I’m in my apartment and nothing happened to me.
Everything is going to be okay…
2
Slamming my fist into the fucker’s face, I watch with glee as agony overtakes his features. He should’ve known he would die, especially after touching what was mine.
An image of my beautiful Dove fighting to get away from him. Her big, blue eyes brimmed with fear, her plump bottom lip trembling. Clenching my fist, I let the anger from that memory sink deep into my bones.
“What were you planning to do when you got her alone? Huh? Why were you following her?” I growl, my patience withering away with every passing second. Part of me doesn’t want to know what he had planned, but the other, bigger part does. I want to hear the words, want them to fuel my anger even more.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” the bastard sneers, playing stupid.
I cock my head to the side and give him a bemused expression. “You must think I’m a fucking idiot, huh? That I didn’t see her tell you no. That she didn’t push you away? Or that I didn’t watch her run out of the house and down the street? That I didn’t see you follow a short while later.”
If it wasn’t for me, he would’ve hurt her, but I was there, just as I’ve always been. And just like all the others who have tried to hurt Dove, he too will die at my hands.
“You’re fucking crazy!” he spits. Blood drips down his lip from the punch I landed against it, and all I can do is stare at it. I can’t stop the cruel smile that splits across my face. My blood sings with joy, and the dark beast inside me cheers with elation at the sight of his blood.
Grabbing him by the hair, I tip his head back, reveling in the scream that pierces the air. Ahhh, there is nothing like when they scream or beg for me to let them go. The hope that shows in their faces before all is lost. Before I snuff the light out of their eyes with my hands.
“Crazy? You haven’t seen anything yet,” I sneer.
Clenching my fist a little tighter, I pull back my arm and land another punch, this time, my knuckles meet the bridge of his nose and the satisfying crunch of bone cracking fills my ears.
The monster inside me is terrifying, real, and it consumes me. I don’t stop as his screams continue to echo through the warehouse. They all cry and beg, but at the end of the day, it’s their own fault. Had they made a better choice, they wouldn’t be here.
By the time I’m done, his face is unrecognizable, and he’s slumped over in the chair I’ve tied him to. Turning, I grab a knife and lift his chin, or what’s left of it. Then I slice him from ear to ear. I feel nothing as I do this, no that’s not true. I feel something. Joy, happiness, relief. His death makes the weight on my chest a little lighter.
Dove is safer now that I’ve extinguished him. Safer now that another worthless person is gone from her life. Another person wanting to hurt her that won’t ever get the chance.
I was put on this Earth to protect her, to ensure her safety as long as I lived.
I might never have her in the way I want, but at least I can always make certain no one hurts her. She will forever be mine, even if she doesn’t know it.
Walking away from the body, I head to the sink and wash the blood from my hands. I spend way too long watching the reddened water swirl down the drain. When it finally runs clear, I scrub my hands with soap, rinse, and dry them. Pulling out my cell, I text Rob to tell him to get the cleanup crew together.
Most people would probably feel guilt or at least some type of emotion after doing what I just did, but I don’t feel anything.
Not that I can’t feel at all, because I can, I just chose not to. Feeling all the time would make it hard for me to kill people for the mob, on top of protecting Dove.
My phone chimes and I see Rob’s name flash across the screen, letting me know that he’s gotten my message. When he arrives, I walk out to my car like nothing ever happened. I consider just driving home, but at the last second turn onto the street to Dove’s place.
She lives in a relatively safe area, but that didn’t stop me from putting cameras and motion sensors in her house. I would go to any length to ensure her complete safety. Even in the safest neighborhood in the country, no one knows what happens behind closed doors.
Parking on the street a few houses down, I shut the car off, and look up at the apartment building. How much longer can I do this?
Subject myself to her sweet scent, soft murmurs, and beautiful face. How much longer can I go on before I’m forced to claim her? My need for her is starting to consume me, eating away at every single rational thought that I have. Every day I’m forced to tamp it down, but I’m not a saint, and soon enough, I’ll break.