He’s cut off by the rubber sole of my boot driving into his mouth, breaking a few teeth. At once, his head snaps back and his body arches—nearly toppling over—but the bound position he’s in keeps him on his haunches. Tim’s eyes are wide, tears falling down his dirty cheeks while he chokes, and I pat his head as one would an ornery child.
And I wait patiently as a father does for his breathing to calm. I give him a dignified moment to collect himself before squatting down to his eye level. “We are going to try this again. Understood?” At his nod, I give a small tug and the cloth covering his bleeding mouth falls, exposing the damage. The four teeth in the front are broken and a large, deep slit is on his bottom lip, causing his chin and neck to be bathed in red. “Talk.”
His lips tremble, face becoming paler the closer I get. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”
“Continue.” A pretty little voice comes from Gabriella’s room, and I catch a small peek of her walking in front of the window toward her closet. It’s why I chose this position near the tree line in her backyard. It gives me just enough of a vantage point to see a glimpse of her here and there if she crosses from one side to the other. And right now, she’s heading toward the same closet where I left a second gift for her to find in due time, but for now, I hold a single finger over my lips while standing to my full height.
Those disgusting cries of his die down as both our heads turn and watch the shadows dance across the wall, and then we get a glorious peek of her padding back toward the bed. It’s brief, but that singular second is an act of mercy from me to Mr. Roy. A gift, because his end is near.
The lights go out but the music stays on, the volume rising just a little more. She’s listening to a classical composition, the melody slightly haunting as the piano becomes the focal point as it reaches its crescendo.
“She wouldn’t approve of this,” Tim whimpers so low I almost miss it, but don’t.
“Is that so?” He doesn’t take heed of my hiss or the way my teeth clench as he nods. He doesn’t take in the special pair of gloves I’ve slipped on with metal tips at the end of my pointer and middle fingers sharp enough to filet flesh. “Please do share how well you know her. How intimate you are with her day to day.”
“I’m—”
He’s cut off by my hand shooting out, grabbing a fistful of hair and tearing a chunk clear off. I’m forcing his head back, the angle painful, and I don’t speak until our eyes meet. “Don’t lie.”
“I’m not.” Another low cry, the sound of a wounded animal meeting its end.
“Final chance.” My nails dig in, cutting into his scalp. Blood rushes to the surface, matting his hair and dripping down his neck, and my nostrils flare at the sight. So easily overpowered. “How well do you know Gabriella Moore?”
“I’ve been a fan for a while.” His voice is no higher than a whisper, the truth finally passed through his injured mouth. “Follow all her social media.”
“Keep going.” I let him go and Tim falls forward, spitting on the ground, and the remnants of his teeth land on the grass with quite a bit of bloody spittle. He’s coughing between disappointing sobs, trying to clear his airways, and my nose wrinkles in disgust when all he manages to do is vomit from the action. “Can I have some water?”
Pitiful. Simply pitiful.
“Ninety seconds.”
That stops his hacking, his entire body freezing. “It was an honest mistake. I thought she was single and—”
“Stalking her became a hobby,” I finish for him; the demon within takes his rightful place. I’m here as a judge and executioner as I don’t believe in the jury system. There’s only one set of laws in the world, and it’s mine. His cardinal sins go against each commandment—his lust for her flesh and bank account are liberties he took while disrespecting me. “How long before it became more?”
“She always comes in alone and ignores anyone that tries to start a conversation.” His eyes avoid mine, his body shaking from his position on the grass. Kneeling. “Today was the first time, I swear. It’ll never happen again.”
“I know.” Before he can blink, I’ve landed another kick, this time to his midsection forcing him to tip back in an uncomfortable position. His arms are tied behind him while his legs are in a forced squat, leaving him flat on his back with knees bent. Then I land a stomp, and the first rib cracks under the pressure. I can hear it snap clearly, feel the bone give beneath my shoe, and I rub the sole against the injured area. “Now, finish your story. Enlighten me.”
“I’ll leave.” His voice cracks, a broken whisper as trails of tears adorn his face.
“You will.” Pressing a little harder, a second rib cracks and he’s smart enough not to yell. Little whimpers escape his lips and I smile, chest rumbling into a low chuckle. “But you’ll have a chance to say goodbye. This is my promise to you.”
“I’d rather just disappear. You’ll never see me alive again.”
“No one will.” Before his next intake of painful breath, I mount his chest and extend all five fingers. The metal shines in the darkness, the light of the moon glinting off the bloodied tips. “Apologize.”
“Don’t kill me.”
“Apologize.”
Tim swallows hard, eyes shifting from my hand to my face. “I’m sorry.”
“May you never find peace.” He doesn’t get to utter a single syllable, his gurgling scream lasting only but a single second as I slice clear across his neck. It’s a straight line that spurts his life’s essence onto my face and neck, staining my clothes. The feel of it on my face is warm and the cooling night breeze quickly forms the substance into a sticky calling that I lick off.
Those vacant eyes stare back at me with pure horror stretched across his expression as I do, a haunting sight of understanding I revel in before standing up, undoing his bindings, and dragging his frail corpse toward her back door.
He’ll greet her in the morning. I promised a final goodbye.
Eerie silence follows as two beady eyes slither into the backyard, passing me as I exit the back of her yard. There’s a secret door behind a large overgrowth of tall cedar trees that makes the back end look more like a tree farm and not a residential area. And yet, they’re well taken care of, covering the metal exit at the center of the brick fence with iron trim that leads to a back alley and side street.
“Not a trace.” At my command, the backyard’s newest guest gives a nod, its white skin glistening in the moonlight while I’m cloaked in darkness. And while I’ll forgo my goodnight kiss tonight, I’ll take her soon enough and savor her sweetness.
My pretty girl is worth the wait.
14
Gabriella
I miss you, pretty girl.
My eyes snap open at those words coming from a voice that tonight doesn’t elicit fear, but familiarity. I’m not shaking or sweating, and the room around me isn’t the one from my dreams where blood touches every single corner as if caressing a fond memory.
Instead, I’m left panting inside my home and on my bed as I recall the heavy feel of eyes on me—watching me—while I dared to finger the edge of a bed which felt familiar, yet I know I’d never seen it much less touched it before. There was also the warmth of secrets shared between those walls and the dream version of myself, because tonight I wasn’t a visitor looking around in fright, but instead a willing participant reminiscing with an old friend.