Chapter Fourteen
Vik
What a fucking rush.
Progress.
The unfortunate circumstances surrounding it aside, tonight proved fruitful in my mission.
I knew early on that the man named X wasn’t part of the crew who killed my mother. He was too young to have run with them, and still too soft around the edges from barely scratching the surface of this twisted life. Even so, he gave me a name, before I squeezed the life out of him.
Brian Harris.
By all accounts, he fits the bill. An older man, graying now but once dark-haired, with a history of violent robberies. You could walk down almost any street in New York and find someone with a similar record, but I’ve got a good feeling about this one.
X drew his last breath before Hannah interrupted me. She had no part to play in what I’d done, but I’m almost glad she saw it.
I’m slipping, though. It’s only a matter of time before I fall completely and expose the truth about who I am.
If she gets any bright ideas about calling the police, they won’t find anything in that alley.
Even as I’m racing home to avoid her suspicion, my cleanup crew is already clearing away every trace that anything happened there.
The biggest hurdle now is getting home and convincing Hannah I’ve been here for hours.
I need to erase any doubts before they have the chance to take root.
After all, I touched her. Felt her trembling against me. Gave her just enough to piece together who was behind the mask, if she can think past the fear.
Without the inconvenience of having to obey traffic laws the way her taxi driver must, I make the trip home in under ten minutes. Once there, I head straight for the laundry room and throw tonight’s clothes in with the rest of the washing.
After what happened last time, I don’t make the mistake of skipping a shower. There’s no blood this time, but I can’t trust Hannah’s nose not to pick up something else.
The adrenaline from tonight’s success makes standing still almost impossible. I’m practically vibrating. Even keeping hold of the soap proves difficult when my hands are shaking this much.
That’s how I know it’s been a good night.
I’m getting close now. I can taste it.
Brian Harris is in my sights.
Vengeance is getting closer.
I wrap a towel around my waist and step out of the bathroom just in time to hear a commotion somewhere in the house.
Hannah’s home.
I skip pulling clothes on. My body aches with need, and it’s only going to get worse seeing Hannah. Celebratory sex is in my future, whether she knows it or not.
“Hannah?” I play it cool, walking down the hall.
She’s sniffling. Crying, probably. I don’t have to see her to recognize the sound. In my elation, I hadn’t considered the state she’d be in after coming face to face with me, masked and dangerous.
Fuck.
She witnessed a murder, or rather, the end of one. She saw a lifeless body crumple like paper and the demon who did it grabbed her right afterward.
“Where have you been?” It’s easy to pretend when I’m not a warm person to begin with. My voice rarely shifts timbre and I don’t let emotion slip into it easily.
“I had to get the kitten food,” she snaps, sharply.
Kitten food…
I fucking knew it. This little beast is going to make my life more difficult. It surprises even me that it happened on its first night here.
I could almost laugh.
“Vik, I…” Hannah starts, but cuts herself off, hanging her head low. She hasn’t turned to me yet. She is fiddling with a can, but the opener never reaches its target. I can see that she is building up the nerve to tell me her secret, no doubt expecting my harshest retaliation.
“What is it, Hannah?” I step behind her, and slide an arm around her waist.
She leans against me, and gulps at the sensation of my wet skin against her back.
She tilts her head back, bringing her face into view.
I see the impact of what I did. Bloodshot eyes and swollen, puffy cheeks.
Mascara tracks run down her face. But there is no sign of the tears that left her in this state.
“I saw something out there,” she says, and relays the scene.
She recounts the regrettable decision to spy on what she thought were lovers, seeing a man pass out in front of her, and then the monster who snatched her. Dragged her down the alleyway, as if pulling her through the gates of Hell.
“I’m sorry, Hannah.” Being the one who caused her harm, an apology is the best I can offer.
“You know, the whole cab ride home, all I could think about was this,” she says, taking one of my hands in hers as she turns around. “Seeing you, knowing you’d make it better.”
Hannah guides my hand over her shoulder, before both her arms snake around my waist in a hug. She rests her head against my heart and squeezes me, seeking the comfort she desires.
“You make me feel so safe,” she whispers against my chest.
I’d be lying if I said her words didn’t make me happy.
I’ve grown rather fond of how we operate.
Her dependence, reliance and need please the coldest parts of me.
But standing here, I’m starting to notice the flaws in our dynamic.
Other than the distractions she brings, I cannot offer the emotional warmth and support she needs. I’m not built for it.
Satisfied with her hug, Hannah kisses my chest.
“I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you,” she whispers against my skin.
My hands travel to the bottom of her shirt. I suppose while I’m here for celebratory reasons, Hannah needs mind-numbing sex to dull what she saw. Who am I to deny her the pleasure?
I tug on her shirt, while her lips travel up my neck and against my jaw. She grabs the back of my head, and I can see her intentions before she realizes them herself.
“Kiss me,” she says. An order thick with lust.
I don’t. I can’t. I keep my head upright, no matter how hard she tugs at it.
Even knowing how badly she needs comfort, I can’t bring myself to kiss her.
Because I know that when I do, I’ll be handing myself over to her in full.
Giving her everything, and leaving no place for anything else.
It’s not a luxury I can afford myself yet.
Not until my unholy conquest is complete.
“Hann—”
She lets go of me and drives both palms against my chest. The impact isn’t enough to move me, but I take a few steps back regardless.
“Why won’t you kiss me?” She cuts me off, realizing I can’t do as she asks. “Am I only good enough for a quick fuck when it pleases you?”
I don’t know how to respond. I can’t admit that she has become an all-consuming void; that she is the first thought I have when I wake, and the last to usher me off to sleep.
If I let her any closer, I won’t be able to separate my two selves. And I’m not ready for her to see the other side.
“I’m a fucking idiot.” She shakes her head, and storms out of the kitchen.
It stings to let her go, but it’s best for both of us.
But it won’t be for long, and then, I’ll be able to make it up to her.