Chapter Three #3
All processed, easy, quick.
She doesn’t like spending time on herself, making sure she eats right.
Not yet, but soon, I’ll change that, I’ll feed her myself to ensure that she’s in the best health she can be.
I need her healthy, lively, ready for the delicious plans I have in mind.
My gaze falls onto the camera I installed in her bedroom, her perfect body is clad in nothing but a thin towel, hardly covering her curves, her porcelain skin that is begging me to touch, to run my tongue along it, to worship every inch of her.
My cock instantly strains in my pants, I curse softly trying to adjust myself.
This woman is going to be the death of me.
Eventually I stop staring at the feed from the cameras I planted around her apartment, ensuring every square inch of the place is monitored and get up, deciding to be more productive, to put my skills to some proper use.
I glance back at the metal table and begin investigating possible leads that have found their way into my hands.
I begin combing through recent police reports, women that have been assaulted, raped, attempts at kidnapping, anything that can point me in the direction of my next target.
That’s when I find it.
Marco Caldera.
A well known businessman in the area, he specializes in import and export, a perfect front for trafficking, I scan through a report made from his ex wife.
The woman was with Marco for ten years, to begin with he was perfect, the epitome of what a husband should have been, then he began working late, hardly calling, hardly spending time with her, one night her thoughts got the better of her and she believed he was having an affair, so she decided to follow him, using the “Find Me” App that came with most smartphones these days, when she arrived at the location she saw him, forcing himself on some poor woman that looked like she had been through hell.
Her hair disheveled, her face dirty, the woman described her perfectly, the description lining up with a missing woman from the south-side.
She had a husband and a son, she went out for drinks one night with her friends and wasn’t seen again.
Unfortunately for Marco’s Ex-Wife, the cop she made a statement with was on his payroll, using Marco to his advantage to live out his sick and twisted fantasies and he tipped him off, promised the woman he’d take the report seriously and have it investigated, but the moment her back was turned he ran to Marco, spilling the information like it was valuable, like it wasn’t a life at stake, an honorable woman’s life at stake.
He killed her, had his men kidnap her and torment her for weeks before her body simply couldn’t take any more, and what’s worse?
They recorded most of it, just so Marco could relive it whenever he pleased, I imagine the asshole with his cock in his hand, stroking himself to her sobs, her pleading, her pain.
The thought itself ignites a rage within me, an ugly, never ending pit that begins eating away at me over the course of the week.
The problem with going for people with real power? It takes time, and I fear this will eat me alive before I finally get my hands on him.
So I start with the cop.
I stand outside the police station, waiting in the shadows for my target to appear, I see him leave the building with a young rookie, talking about staking out a location that’s rumored to have a big drug deal going down, how did that not raise alarms in her head, a seasoned officer taking a rookie that’s hardly out of the academy on a high risk stake out mission.
Fucking idiots some people I swear.
I quickly turn the ignition key, slowly tailing him to the location, I stay far enough back to not raise suspicion and pull over to allow them to make their turn-off way before I do.
Once I’m sure the coast is clear I follow.
I slide the latex gloves over my hands, the rubber snapping against my wrist, I take my mask from the duffel bag and place it over my face, tightening the strap at the back.
I note the exit routes, just in case, ensuring that every trace of my DNA is wiped clean from the car, in case this goes south and they find it.
I climb out of the car and tuck my gun into the back of my jeans, the familiar metal at the base of my spine giving me a sense of steadiness.
Then I hear her scream.
I take off in a sprint towards the warehouse, ensuring my hoodie is zipped tight and my mask is firmly in place, tightened so there’s no chance of it being knocked from my face. My feet pound against the iron stairs towards the office.
I pump my legs faster as I hear incoherent commands and sobs, I round the corner to find him pinning her to a dusty desk, paperwork scattered everywhere and imprints of her hands in the layer of dust that sits on top of it, showcasing the struggle, the fight she has put up.
His hand is wrapped around her throat as he tugs at the waistband of her pants, her feet kicking out to push him backwards, to gain some sort of upper hand, I decide now is my chance to move.