7 | Liam
Liam
Jessica is busy serving customers when I arrive at the diner.
She doesn’t notice me when I enter, giving me the opportunity to slip further back into the booth I’ve chosen as my spot.
I always pick one place in each town and frequent it until we leave for the next town.
I like routine; it’s the very least of it I can maintain while living the lifestyle we’ve chosen for ourselves.
I take my seat next to the window. It’s the one with a view directly on the road, giving me a clear line of sight to the entrance and the church across the street.
It’s important for me to check my surroundings, but I rarely look outside while I'm here. My focus is always on the girl serving customers, smiling politely to everyone while barking orders at the cook and the other servers. She moves through this diner as if she owns it. The aura surrounding her radiates far more boss energy than a simple waitress. Yet that’s all she is here—though she deserves so much more. She is a fucking hurricane.
I’ll admit, I’ve done my research on her. Not because I’m obsessed—I just need to know things about people to keep us protected. That’s what I kept telling myself while asking around, but she isn't another victim, and I didn’t need to know a thing about her.
I’m not much older than she is, from what I’ve gathered.
She’s twenty-six and has lived in this town her whole life, raised by a single father—though I wouldn’t call him that, exactly.
The guy hasn't kept a job since Jessica was sixteen, and before that, he had a string of short-lived gigs after her mother’s passing.
Her mother’s death was a truly tragic story, but I couldn’t find much about it.
I’m no stranger to those—I have enough tragic events of my own to fill a lifetime of grief.
From everything I could find, Jessica has been raising herself since she was ten.
And if you ask me, she did a damn good job.
She’s become an amazing woman despite the grief she had to live through.
Even working a meaningless job, she basically runs the place.
Everyone respects her. People had only good things to say when I was asking around, pretending to just be curious about local gossip.
And that’s what she is: the star of the town’s gossip.
In small places like this, that's usually the case. It’s the same in our hometown.
Nothing exciting ever happens to spark true gossip, so the residents of this pathetic town cling to what little they can.
What happened to this poor woman seems to be the most exciting event this town has ever seen. Until we came along, at least.
The sweet girl with the stunning smile approaches my booth to take my order, and my breath hitches.
Her scent captivates my senses, and for a moment, I forget why I’m here.
All I want to do is bend her over the table and claim her, letting everyone know who she belongs to.
She doesn’t belong to me, though, and I’m well aware of that.
I’m just a stranger to her; this obsession is entirely one-sided, which makes it almost painful.
I would give my soul to have with her what the boys have.
I would bleed for her, beg her to be mine. I would...
Her voice breaks my thoughts. The politeness of it pulls me back to reality, reminding me where we stand: to her, I’m nobody.
“Hello, what can I bring you today?” she asks, her voice dripping sweetness.
“How about a cup of coffee and a piece of that cherry pie? The smell alone has been haunting me since I walked in,” I tell her, matching her polite tone.
She smiles—a smile I’m convinced is just a mask she puts on every time she steps through the front door.
It’s that customer service mask so many wear every day.
Millions of people go to work wearing that same fake smile.
I’ve never had a need for it. And to be completely honest, I would never choose a job that forced me to plaster a smile on my face every morning.
Life is hard enough without that torture.
She leaves to fetch my order without another word, and I take the opportunity to check my phone. An unread message flashes on the screen, and Nate’s text pops up the moment I open it: “Don’t be late. Mike is getting restless, and he found the next one.”
This is too soon. I buried last night's body just a few hours ago. We never hunt two nights in a row. This isn’t how we do things; we need to be careful. Mike is getting more careless by the day, and I fear our doom is fast approaching.
I type a quick “okay” and send it right as Jessica reappears with my order.
It’s not like I can object to Mike’s desires anyway.
Even if Nathan backed me up, Mike would still get what he wants in the end.
The only thing left to do is delay the death of the woman he’s chosen.
But that’s a problem for future Liam—this Liam needs a moment for himself.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” I say as she sets down the plate with the pie and the cup of coffee. The rich aroma fills my nostrils, and I breathe it in. I love the smell of coffee.
I pull some cash from my wallet and hand her the bills, making sure to tip her generously—sometimes more than the order itself.
She needs the money, and I have plenty to spare.
Nate’s parents made sure we were set for life, and their son managed to double the inheritance within three years of their deaths.
Nathan has always been business-smart. He understands how things work, and he manages the family company remotely.
It would be a lie to claim that having money doesn’t come in handy when your main form of entertainment is hunting women for sport before killing them.
We’ve never been caught, but even if we were, a well-paid lawyer could fix it.
Beyond that, it funds our travels, allowing us to live this blood-soaked lifestyle without worrying about basic survival.
Every now and then, we take breaks to attend social events in New York, where the company is based, to maintain our image as businessmen. In reality, Nathan is the only one who actually handles the business. Mike and I are mostly just the faces of it.
Mike is twisted and psychotic, but he’s also extremely charming. Women would drop at his feet if they knew what he liked to do to them. I mirror his appearance enough that women fall for me, too. The family genes run strong—we look so much alike we could pass for brothers.
We’ve always had one rule about women, though: we never touch the ones we hunt in a sexual way. None of us are into that type of evil. We need them to consent, and it’s hard to get consent when someone is running for their life.
The guys are content with each other, and I haven’t felt the need for a woman in years—until Jessica. Even now, I know I can’t act on my desires without causing problems for us. Yet part of me keeps weighing the options. Maybe I can get away with it. Maybe if I’m careful enough...
As the thought crosses my mind, I see her exit through the back door near the kitchen—she’s on her break.
Every ounce of caution goes out the window, overriding my rational mind.
I wouldn’t normally do this, but today I need more than three words from her.
I slip out of the booth, making sure no one notices as I slide through the staff-only section and out the back door.
Jessica is leaning against the stone wall of the alley running behind the restaurant.
She smiles when she sees me, almost as if she was hoping I’d come through that door.
I wouldn’t go as far as saying she expected me—I’m no fool.
But maybe a small part of her wanted me to approach her outside of the usual server-customer dynamic.
Or maybe I’m just delusional, and Mike’s insanity is finally rubbing off on me.
I knew living with him all these years would take a toll.
The alley is narrow, hidden from the view of the main road. A cigarette rests between her lips. She takes a deep drag and exhales, her eyes drifting toward the busy street at the end of the alley.
“Those are really bad for you,” I say, breaking the silence.
“Pretty sure I’m a grown-ass woman. I can make my own decisions,” she replies, her voice carrying a mix of defiance and teasing—almost as if she’s luring me into trouble.
I stalk closer, and her body tenses. Her eyes rise to meet mine, and I see her clench her thighs together. I wonder if she feels the same electric pull I do—if she has a burning obsession of her own.
My presence is getting to her. Her body betrays her desire as I brush my lips against her neck, my breath raising the tiny hairs on her skin.
She holds her breath, letting the cigarette drop from her fingers.
I feel her pulse spike as I press my body against hers.
She doesn't pull away; her body melts into mine.
“I tried to stay away from you,” I murmur, more to myself than to her.
A smirk touches her lips. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.”
Her hand clutches the fabric of my t-shirt, pulling me closer before she crashes her lips against mine. I nudge her legs open with my knee, and she yields immediately.
My hand slips between her legs, finding the wet fabric of her underwear. “You’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” I whisper, my voice thick with lust.
She catches her breath before speaking. “Are you going to keep talking, or are you going to fuck me?”
Her words are a godsend, and I’m desperate to be inside her. If these stolen moments are all I get, I’m going to drink them in like fine wine.
I push the flimsy fabric of her panties aside and slide a finger inside her tight heat.
We don’t have time—I’d prefer hours with her, but we only have minutes.
I’ll take what I can get. From the sweet moan that escapes her lips as a second and third finger join the first, she wants the same thing.
We’re both eager to steal whatever time we can for our own selfish reasons.
She comes undone against my hand, riding my fingers to chase her orgasm. It’s a race between us, but I want her coming around my cock instead. I want to feel her milking me as she crests. It’s a pleasure I shouldn’t allow myself, but it’s exactly what I’m going to take.
“Good girl,” I praise her, letting her get right to the edge before pulling back.
“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” She nods, seemingly losing the ability to speak.
She moans, biting my shoulder to stay quiet as my fingers move fast, finding that spot inside her again.
“Good girl.” The praise slips out as she gasps for air.
I pull my hand away completely, and she looks at me as if I’ve betrayed her, silently mourning the lost climax, letting me make the next move without protest.
“I want to be inside you,” I tell her.
She nods frantically. “Yes, please.”
Those two words—that breathless plea—are all I need. The invitation I was waiting for.
I unbuckle my belt and unzip my pants, gripping my cock strocking myself, before lining up at her entrance. I spit on my hand and slick my dick, mixing it with her arousal. I lift her legs, and she wraps them tight around my waist.
I don't wait. I push inside her, pinning her against the stone wall. Pure greed drives me to push in and out of her pussy with punishing thrusts, desperate to drag her back to the edge of the orgasm I stole from her moments ago.
She moans, clawing at my neck and sending sharp spikes of pleasure-pain through me as I fuck her hard and fast. She’s close again, and my own release is right behind hers.
All the built-up tension and fantasies about her have my body screaming to come inside her.
That’s exactly what I’m going to do, but I need her to shatter first. I need to feel her muscles clamp down around me.
“Come for me, sweetheart.” It’s an order, and her body obeys. She rides the wave of her orgasm, moving against me to take me deeper.
“Fuck... please, I can’t,” she gasps, trying to complain as I keep working her sore center with my fingers. She moans into my mouth as I kiss her to silence her.
It isn't long before my own release hits, spilling deep inside her. She milks my cock, taking every drop as another wave hits her. I can’t stop myself from biting her lower lip, inflicting a flash of pain.
Her legs slide down to the pavement as I pull out of her tight warmth.
Without a word, she adjusts her underwear, pulls her uniform back into place, and fixes her hair.
She prepares to go back to work as if my cum isn't leaking out of her.
“See you around,” she says softly, as if I didn’t just fuck her senseless.
The realization that this woman could easily be the death of me hits hard as I watch her disappear through the kitchen door. I stand there alone, watching it click shut.
“Oh, how I wish things were different for us, sweet girl,” I whisper to the empty alley before I enter the diner again through the back door and head for my booth, hoping no one noticed that we were both gone.