Chapter 3 #2
Things between her and Finn had changed today, but she wasn’t sure if it was in a way that would lead to something more than friendship or not.
Either way, she’d take it. She respected and liked Finn Matlick.
And the fact that he didn’t merely tolerate her daughter, but genuinely seemed to like and care about her, was a huge bonus.
Tonka took a deep breath before he started his truck and headed for the automotive shop.
It had taken everything in him not to pull Henley into his arms before he’d left.
He probably would’ve freaked her out if he’d tried.
He’d kept his attraction to her under wraps for years.
But one day in her company, seeing the love she and her daughter had for each other, and he already knew he could no longer keep his distance.
All the reasons why he should stay away tried to creep in. She was a psychologist and would eventually try to psychoanalyze him. She’d want to “fix” him, and he wasn’t sure he could be fixed. She was basically an employee. She had a kid.
But no matter how hard he tried to tell himself things between them wouldn’t work out, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Henley was a damn good psychologist. He’d seen her in action with the guests.
She was able to make even the most reluctant guest relax and open up.
She seemed to like animals, something that was important to Tonka.
She was protective, which he approved of, and she’d done a hell of a job raising Jasna by herself.
She was considerate, hardworking, and on top of all that… the woman was sexy as hell.
Her long brown hair was always slightly mussed by the end of the day, and Tonka constantly wanted to smooth it back from her face.
She was petite, almost a foot shorter than he was, but with her friendly, outgoing personality, she seemed larger than life.
Her hazel eyes sparkled with humor and affection, but he also saw pain there.
Just thinking about what had happened when she was around Jasna’s age made his muscles tighten.
He’d heard the story a few times while sitting in on her group sessions at the lodge.
Her parents were Native American, and she was alone at home with her mom on the reservation one evening when two men had broken in and attacked her mother.
Henley had hidden under her bed right before the men burst into the room, dragging her mom with them.
They’d raped and stabbed her, all while Henley had hidden under the bed, terrified out of her mind that she’d be next.
They’d left without finding her, but Henley had been so traumatized, she hadn’t spoken for five years.
Her dad had never gotten over what happened, and the day after she’d turned eighteen, he’d been killed in a knife fight—that he started—at the casino where he worked.
Henley had experienced severe trauma, and he suspected that was a large part of what made her such a good psychologist. She could empathize with her clients on a level many doctors couldn’t, and they probably felt as if she truly understood what they were going through, especially when she shared her past traumas.
Tonka couldn’t deny a part of him felt the same way.
He’d actually looked up her case, wanting to find the men who’d killed her mom and make sure they paid for what they’d done. They’d both been arrested and had died while behind bars. They wouldn’t ever be a problem for Henley or Jasna, which was a huge relief to Tonka.
He didn’t know what the future held, but he knew he could no longer stay away from Henley. He had no idea if he’d be able to work through the shit in his head to have a healthy relationship…but he wanted to try.
Feeling lighter than he had in years, now that he’d finally made that admission to himself, Tonka pulled into the parking lot of the auto store. Pipe had already said he’d help change the battery out in Henley’s car and drive him back to town to drop it off.
There was no need to leave the car in her parking lot tonight, since Henley would be asleep and he wasn’t leaving the keys.
But he had a feeling most people—beyond her neighbor—didn’t offer to help the single mother very often.
This was something he could do to show her that he didn’t mind going out of his way for her.
He appreciated even more that his friend didn’t pry into what was going on between him and Henley. For all Pipe knew, he was simply helping out one of their employees.
Then again, Pipe wasn’t stupid. Tonka had never gone out of his way to help any of their employees. He couldn’t keep his interest in Henley a secret for long. But he didn’t really want to.
Like everything else in his life, once he put his mind to something, he was one hundred percent committed. It had been the same with the Coast Guard and becoming a dog handler. And investing in The Refuge, making it a safe place for abused, neglected, and unwanted animals as well as people.
Feeling better than he had in a very long time, Tonka entered the store and made a beeline for the batteries.
Henley had seemed surprised he was as concerned about her and Jasna as he was—but she hadn’t seen anything yet.
She’d had a tough life, and he wanted to do everything in his power to make the struggles she’d been through seem like nothing but a bad memory.
Christian Dekker crouched in the fort in the woods behind his house and watched with cold detachment as a squirrel slowly bled to death in the trap he’d set.
He’d found the creature as he’d approached the crude wooden shelter he’d built when he was twelve, dragging it inside so he could watch it die.
All his life, he’d been fascinated with death. He couldn’t remember how old he was the first time he’d seen a dead animal in the road…maybe six or so. He’d snuck out of the house later to examine the carcass.
He was different. He knew it. His parents knew it.
His sister knew it. But Christian didn’t care.
About anything, really. He didn’t care about his family, or making friends.
School was stupid. The boys in his class were pussies.
The girls were sluts. The teachers didn’t give a shit about teaching, all they cared about was a paycheck and doing as little as possible for it.
When he was just eight, he realized how much pleasure he got from scaring people. It satisfied some need deep within him. He’d hidden in his little sister’s room and jumped out of her closet. Her scream had sent goose bumps down his spine…in a good way.
He craved that exciting thrill, and ever since, he’d done everything he could to feel it again and again. Each time, his antics getting darker.
Killing the neighbor’s cat and putting it on their doorstep.
Lighting the field behind the school on fire and watching the kids freak, thinking the school was going to burn down.
Sneaking into his parents’ room and standing next to their bed, stark naked, not moving an inch, until they woke up and saw him there, staring at them.
He took the knives in the kitchen to scare his parents, leaving them to wonder what he might do with them. Sat precariously on the roof of the house…locked his sister outside at night.
The fear of others filled a gaping hole inside him.
When he was twelve, his parents had brought him to a therapist. At first he opened up to her willingly, sharing his darkest thoughts.
But he quickly began to feel she was just like all the other adults he’d met in his life…
simply pretending to listen. Being nice to him to get a paycheck.
So he’d changed tactics and started fucking with the woman.
In one session, he’d tell her everything she wanted to know, no matter how disturbing, and the next time, he’d pretend he hadn’t told her anything at all.
As if he had no idea what she was talking about.
It was the day he realized he’d gotten under his therapist’s skin that helped Christian understand the amount of power he had over others.
Scaring them was one thing…but making them alter their behavior, change their habits and routines just to avoid being around him, was a unique thrill all on its own.
He was disappointed when he’d shown up for a session one day, only to find out he had a new therapist. A guy. The woman had given up on him, just like his parents had. It pissed him off then, and he was still angry about it now.
Christian hated not having control over his own life—and she was just one more person in a long line who’d taken some of his control away. And before dumping him, the bitch even suggested he be locked away “for his own safety”! It wasn’t a betrayal he’d ever forget.
He lived to manipulate people. Loved scaring them so much they’d do anything to avoid him. But a therapist was different. She was paid to put up with his shit. She should’ve had no choice but to continue their sessions. Just like his parents had no choice…
He was well aware that his parents were scared of him. Of what he might do. They locked their bedroom door now, and had long since moved his room to the basement so he wasn’t near his sister. Which suited Christian just fine. He snuck out of the house every night and did whatever he wanted.
As the years passed, Christian found that his need to scare people only got more pervasive. The fear and helplessness in an animal’s eyes when it knew it was dying was thrilling, like a drug. The control Christian felt in those moments was overwhelming and exciting.
Although killing squirrels wasn’t as fun anymore, he wouldn’t pass up the chance to see this one die. The creature in his trap struggled, desperate to get away, to live. But neither of those things was going to happen. Christian was in control.
The thing died way too quickly for his liking, and he threw the carcass out of his fort impatiently. He wanted more. He’d recently found a stray dog that he’d befriended then tortured for a week before slitting its throat. Finding new ways to kill cats was getting boring.
No. Christian’s next target was the donkey that lived in a field down from the high school. He wanted to know if killing something so big was more satisfying than the animals he’d tortured in the past.
He had a feeling it would be.
And he wouldn’t stop there.
Couldn’t.
A plan had been forming in his mind for a couple years now. Everyone he knew in Los Alamos was scared of him and smart enough to stay away. He was going to leave this shitty town and head down to Albuquerque. Make a fresh start.
But before he left, he wanted to make a statement.
He could kill his parents and sister, but that would be too predictable and everyone would suspect him. He wanted a challenge. He needed to strike where it was least expected.
And Christian knew just where that was. He had a score to settle.
In order to make sure his plan went off without a hitch, he needed to study his target. Decide exactly where and how to strike. What would make the most impact.
Doctor McClure had been the first person he’d ever wanted to impress.
When she asked about his thoughts and deeds, delving into his mind, he’d stupidly thought she cared about him.
Understood him. But she’d betrayed him just like everyone else.
She’d pawned him off on one of her co-workers.
A mealymouthed asshole who flinched every time Christian so much as shifted in the chair opposite him.
It had been a couple of years since he’d refused to go to any more therapy sessions, but he’d never forgotten the woman who’d given up on him without hesitation. She’d pay for that.
She was his target.
Christian could almost taste the fear she’d feel while he toyed with her. But he needed to be smart. Not let her know she was being followed or watched. He’d figure out her routine, wait for the perfect moment, then strike hard and fast.
A chuckle left his lips, and Christian felt a rush of anticipation he hadn’t experienced in a long time. First the donkey. Then the doctor. Then he’d head to the city and go down in history as the most fearsome serial killer the country had ever seen.
He couldn’t wait.