Chapter 2
Monk
Three months later…
Aloud clack of thunder hits, and I smile.
It’s the perfect night for a murder. Just like a thriller novel.
The monster lurks in the dark, a storm brewing inside his head while the rain comes pouring down.
A cold chill seeps into his bones as he lies in wait.
And the victim is going about his life, not giving thought to anything other than the fact that his fancy shoes are going to get wet, and his hair will be a mess when he steps outside.
He has no clue that he’s about to meet his doom.
Only, it’s not going to happen that quickly. He’s not getting off that easily.
I’ve opted for delayed gratification, wanting Hunter to serve his time first. Killing him tonight wouldn’t be justice.
For years I lived in fear, sick to my stomach, feeling worthless and inhuman.
Night after night, I suffered from nightmares.
Crying in bed because there was nothing I could do to stop it.
No one I could turn to for help without putting my mom’s life in jeopardy.
Having to see the sadness in her eyes every time she looked at me.
Her only son a gruesome ogre, hideous and weak.
It was supposed to end in high school. College was going to be my freedom, but instead, I was still living in hell.
The stares. The comments. The repulsion on everyone’s faces when I walked into class.
I had to start taking my courses online after the first semester, becoming a recluse for fear of walking across campus and getting something thrown at me.
Once again, I was lonely and miserable, with nothing but my computer to keep me company.
When the threatening emails started to come in, Hunter demanding I write his college essays for him, I snapped.
That’s when I became the best hacker in the world.
Imploding his system with viruses, shutting down his email accounts, learning how to siphon money from his bank account.
But then…I slipped up and was caught. The cops showed up at my door and the next thing I knew, I was sentenced to five years, courtesy of Hunter’s fucking father.
So, killing him tonight would be too merciful and Hunter Sorent doesn’t deserve an ounce of mercy.
Another clack of thunder pulls me from my thoughts and my eyes refocus.
Any minute he’ll come walking out the door, gym bag in hand, freshly showered, wearing some fancy-ass suit like he’s off to a fucking ball when all he’s doing is going to some sports bar to watch whatever game is playing.
Maybe he thinks that showing up looking like Mr. Moneybags will get him lucky with the ladies.
But his fancy attire must not compensate for his charming personality because I never see him leave with anyone.
Pity that he’s not married. I was hoping I could add ruining his marriage to my list. I wanted to fuck his wife and send him the video, show him how badly she wanted my dick, but that’s not going to be the case.
The guy hasn’t settled down yet, probably on account of not wanting to pluck a single cherry when he can have access to the whole damn tree.
The gym doors open, and like clockwork, he comes walking out.
Bag in hand, hair freshly groomed, wearing his fancy-ass suit that’s about to get drenched by the downpour.
It started raining while he was inside working out, and by the look on his face, I don’t think he expected it.
Like I said, the unassuming victim is worried about getting wet while the monster sits in the shadows, waiting.
Ready to reign terror down and seek vengeance.
He finally braces his shoulders, making a run for his car, getting closer to the predator with every step.
His eyes are cast down. Arms bracing his bag above his head as if it’s going to do anything to shield him from the avalanche of drops.
He gets to his car door and has a decision to make, dig out his key or punch in the code on the keypad.
Both moments of pause give me my opportunity.
I step out of the shadows, watching as the keys on the pad turn green and his door unlocks. Right as he opens the door, I’m at his back. His shocked grunt dying on his tongue as the chloroform infiltrates his nostrils, working its way through his system, making his body go slack against me.
I open up the rear door and shove him inside, climbing in after so I can ensure my prisoner is secure just in case the poison wears off.
I grab the rope from under my sweatshirt and begin binding his wrists together first, then his ankles.
I go to put duct tape over his mouth so he can’t use his voice to activate some emergency access and that’s when I notice the changes in his face.
He used to look like the all-American football player.
Shaggy blond hair, blue eyes, a face the image of handsome perfection.
Every teenage girl’s heartthrob. Now, he looks like a rugged GQ model.
His hair perfectly styled, chiseled jaw lined with scruff, and his features weathered with maturity.
Size wise he still looks to be about the same.
Tall and built. Maybe a little broader shouldered, a little more bulk in his arms and thighs.
But even still, he’s nowhere near my size.
I was a lanky kid back in school. Legs too long and thin.
Gangly arms. A weak and pathetic frame. Easily breakable.
Easily taken down. Now, I’m a mass of destruction.
Untouchable. Unafraid. And with the madness that runs through my veins, I’m his worst nightmare.
I take his bag and leave my sleeping little victim to rest as I climb into the front seat.
The first thing I do is dig out his phone and redirect the tracking systems, making it look like his phone is now pinging off the cell tower near his house.
It’s a special trick I learned while I was behind bars.
My hacking skills were sharpened like a tack since time was the only thing I had excess of.
And now I know how to do all kinds of nifty little things.
Like access his car’s locator system and shut it down.
Now, on the off chance someone comes looking for his vehicle, it will show that it’s parked inside his garage, having returned home exactly twelve minutes after leaving the gym.
As soon as I have everything in order and the phone set to airplane mode, I pull out of the parking lot.
Heading out of town. Driving through the old country roads.
Past the middle of nowhere and beyond. The further out we get, the darker it becomes.
There aren’t any streetlights out here. And with the moon and stars shielded by the dark, angry clouds, it’s near impossible to see as I make my way up into the mountains.
To the place I now call home. A place no one will ever find my prisoner.