Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
CARTER
The air is crisp and cool as the wind blows through my hair. My feet pound on the ground, every muscle straining, and my breaths get heavier as I reach my fifth mile.
Our shop is in a secluded area for a good reason. We don’t really want customers to come in. It’s all a front to keep us under the radar. Turning away business from the wrong person would be a red flag and potentially give us attention we don’t want.
Circling back to the shop where we live and work, I come to the bizarre church and spot the pretty blonde I’ve had my eye on. I’ve seen her several times, but never like this.
Blood coats her hands along with the ends of her hair as she stares down at the man lying at her feet. She holds a bloodied cross in her hands and squats down to stab it into his chest. Her words are chilling and cause a pang in my chest.
“He is not a Prophet, you fool. Jedediah is a sick fucking monster, using God for an excuse to do disgusting things to children. I was a goddamn child when he took my virginity, as I sobbed. Every time he touched me, I wanted to die. I will never stop, not until all of you are dead. Nobody ever protected me, but I will end this. No more hurt. No more pain for the innocent. This is not a church, but a fucking cult. And its destruction is mine.”
More than once on my run, I’ve spotted bizarre shit. I’ve seen them outside chanting religious nonsense. I didn’t know it was a cult, but I’m not surprised either.
She rises to her feet and turns to me. Placing her bloody hands on her hips, she glares at me with striking blue eyes that warn me not to approach her.
This woman looks like a dangerous, blood-thirsty animal, and fuck, I want more of it.
She’s dressed in black pants and a matching sleeveless T-shirt, with the word heathen scrawled across it.
Her anger is palpable, even from the fifteen-foot distance between us.
I don’t know her name, but suddenly I want to know everything about her.
How did she end up here? How many people has she killed?
What did they do to her? Fuuuck, she’s my new obsession.
I was never officially diagnosed with OCD, but I started showing symptoms when I was twelve.
It’s not in a ‘I can’t touch doorknobs’ kind of way, but when I like something, I like it in excess.
I don’t run for exercise, but because I’m almost addicted to it.
If there’s something that interests me, it becomes the only thing I can think about.
I become obsessed with things I take interest in.
That thing has never been a person.
Until now.
Pulling out my phone, I snap a picture of her, and she rolls her eyes as I step closer to her.
“Have fun jerking off to my picture, dickhead.”
My lips pull up into a smirk. She’s fucking gorgeous and has a smart mouth.
“Oh, I will, Little Heathen. I fucking will.”
She turns her back to me, and I’m tempted to take her back to the shop, but I decide to let her go. For now.
I move slowly, allowing her to get ahead so she thinks she’s alone. Once I see where she’s living, she will never be on her own again.
My Little Heathen doesn’t know it yet, but she’s mine.
To watch.
To protect.
To ravish.
To keep.
To worship.
My brothers would say it’s my OCD at work, but it’s not. This is so much more than that. The way she looks.
The way she moves.
The delectable sound of her voice.
Every fucking thing about her calls to me. Other men might stay away from a woman that’s a serial killer, but not me.
We are the same, Little Heathen.
I should let her go and pretend I never laid eyes on her, but I can’t do that. I’m a goddamn psychopath. If she runs, I’ll do what I do best.
Hunt her.
I follow behind her as she checks her surroundings, left to right, but she doesn’t bother looking behind her.
Naughty Little Heathen.
She runs through the forest, jumping over fallen tree branches, never missing a step.
This woman moves with the grace of a gazelle as I speed up into a sprint, trying not to lose her while also attempting to be quiet so she doesn’t know she’s being followed.
She darts to the left, then right, before halting in front of a small body of water that I didn’t know existed.
I watch with curiosity as she pulls open a backpack hidden behind a large gray rock.
Is my girl homeless?
She pulls out clothing and sets it on top of the rock.
Her next move causes all the air to escape from my lungs.
My cock hardens as she pulls the black shirt over her head and tosses it to the ground.
I allow my gaze to drift up her toned stomach to her full tits straining against the lacy blue fabric holding them in place.
Reaching behind her back, she unfastens her bra, and I hold my breath in anticipation. When she slides it down her arms and drops it, I’m sure I’ve died and gone to paradise.
This girl is beautiful in a way that changes everything you thought you knew.
Her long blonde hair hangs down her back, nearly touching her elbows on either side. She looks to the sky, appearing peaceful, as she exhales a long breath. I reach into my pants and squeeze my cock as she hooks her thumbs into her pants and slides them down over the curve of her hips.
That’s it, gorgeous girl. Show me everything.
She grabs soap from her backpack and steps into the water.
My heart squeezes at the realization that my girl is homeless, but it doesn’t talk my cock down as her fingers work the soap over her voluptuous tits.
I watch with rapt attention as her hand disappears into the water.
Her eyes close as she makes the sweetest sound.
I wish I could see what she’s doing to herself, but she’s hidden in the shallow water that sits at her waist.
I pull my shorts down over my hips and take my cock out.
Placing one hand on the tree trunk beside me for stability, I fist my length with my other one as she pleasures herself.
The moonlight shines down on her, giving a soft glow to her skin as she comes undone.
I come on the tree bark, imagining it's her, while I listen to her breathy moans of pleasure.
I watch while she comes.
I watch while she gets dressed.
When she lies on the cold hard ground to sleep, I stay.
I don’t know why I’m attached to a woman I’ve barely spoken to, but the thought of leaving her here alone is crushing. I fear for her safety and my sanity.
She looks so goddamn angelic as she falls asleep.
Her blonde hair is still wet, and splayed around the earth as she lies on her back.
I watch her as her lashes flutter slightly and her chest rises and falls with deep, heavy breaths.
Her lips are parted as she appears to rest peacefully.
A sudden spark of anger runs through me.
Does she know the danger she would be in if I weren’t here protecting her?
Anybody could come and see her lying alone. Fucking defenseless. I’m sure killing the members of her church has ruffled some feathers at the very least. It’s dangerous for her to be lying outside, completely unaware of predators lurking.
Predators like me.
I move closer, knowing I shouldn’t. If I get too close, she’ll try to touch me, probably to hit me.
And I really don’t want to scare her. I don’t know exactly what she’s been through, but it’s obviously something traumatic.
It’s the reason for her killing. The number of bodies we find in our field only increases, so it seems like she’s escalating.
Is she getting more pissed off? Or are they doing things to her that we miss on the cameras?
It has been two years since my last kill, but I’m happy to dust off my bow and do it again. If anyone lays a fucking finger on her, they’re dead. I can’t leave her out here alone. Either I set up camp here every night, or I need to take her somewhere safe.
With me.
Against my better judgement, I move closer to her, needing to inhale her scent.
I move on the ground, slowly, paying attention to every movement as I close the gap between us.
My knee hits a twig, and makes more noise than I was intending.
I wait, making sure I didn’t wake her. When she’s still out, I crawl forward again.
Finally, I’m hovering over her, looking into that beautiful face.
Fucking hell, she’s gorgeous. I couldn’t see it from a distance, but now I see the perfect blush on her cheeks.
Pressing my face against her neck, I inhale her scent.
How the hell does a homeless serial killer smell like a goddamn rose garden?
She is so fucking sweet. I run my thumb over her bottom lip and whisper.
“Tomorrow, beautiful Little Heathen. That’s when everything changes for us.”