Chapter Three Travis
Chapter Three
Travis
Watching Kevin through the city cams is almost as fun as the killing itself. His patterns are immaculate. Six a.m., he wakes up, sorts through the copious amounts of booze bottles he’s collected the night before.
A good morning is when he finds one that still contains alcohol. In which case he’ll down the rest of the liquid and sleep for a few more hours. If not, he climbs out of bed angrily, setting off for the day’s booze money.
In order for me to know and see his precise habits, I have to constantly watch and track his every move through the cameras. However, I already know his preferred location for another beer: the corner store.
Luckily for Kevin, today is one of those days when he finds the source of his happiness right away. He downs what I assume is whiskey until it’s gone. Then, for some reason, he throws the bottle against the wall.
Filthy.
One of the many things that bothers me about him. I finish wrapping up the kit I take to every kill, mostly necessities. A change of clothes, toothbrush, and the specific tool I’ve selected for this. Just as planned, everything is perfect and in order.
The genius in me makes me smile sometimes.
I like to consider myself an equal opportunity killer, but I have to admit, Lake Lure has always been my favorite hunting ground. I think I’m doing my best kills here. Who am I kidding? All my kills are pretty spectacular.
The alarm on my computer interrupts my self-adulation. Leaning over to look at the screen, I see a mess of pink hair as it darts across. The breath rushes from my nose, and I squint. What the . . . Is she . . . crab-walking?
Watching her trying to sneak around the perimeter of my house is like watching a child who’s invested a lot of time in watching bad ninja movies. I exhale sharply and walk over to my desk.
Sitting down, I open my laptop. Juniper Sage Featherstone. How could I forget? She idiotically gave me her government-issue name yesterday. Didn’t her parents teach her not to offer personal information to strangers?
Typing out her name in the search bar, I shake my head. What a stupid fucking name. What parent names their child that? The same parents who didn’t teach their kid about basic safety.
I press enter, and her Instagram pops up, confirming the story she told me yesterday. She does reviews on Airbnbs. Which basically equates to her being homeless.
It’s fairly easy to get lost in these mountains. Given her proclivities to hitchhike and walk, I’d say she is a fairly good target.
My gaze returns to my screen. Her futile attempts to peep through my windows annoy me. I don’t make it a habit to kill this close together, but this woman needs to go away.
I watch as she seemingly gives in and starts walking back up the driveway. Not even trying to disguise that she was just snooping around my house.
I’m killing Kevin on Thursday, I remind myself. Then I could kill her next. Yes! It’s decided. I will start planning her demise today, during my scheduled free time.
I get back to running through Kevin’s murder before I eat my lunch as scheduled. Pleased that the rest of my afternoon has gone as planned, I decide to take a little nap when it gets dark outside, setting my alarm for midnight.
When my phone goes off at twelve a.m., I’m more than ready to go on my little recon mission. I jump up and dress in a pair of black pants, a dark-gray long-sleeved shirt, and boots before grabbing my leather gloves and lock-picking kit.
Making my way to my attached garage, I think of how satisfying it will be to find out more about Miss Featherstone. I love the process of collecting data when needing intel on my kills.
Deciding a walk will probably do me good, I forgo taking the car. Plus, I’ll be less noticeable on foot. As I make my way to Ryan’s cabin, I can’t help but think, How in the world did she make this hike in those ridiculous flip-flops?
When I finally walk up to the cabin, I’m pleased to see that all the lights are off. Good. She’s asleep.
I make my way around the house and pick the lock on the back door. It takes only a few minutes to get it unlocked. Satisfied with my quick work, I shove the kit back into my pocket.
Opening the door softly, I sneak inside, making sure to close it quietly behind me. My eyes have already adjusted to the darkness. The night sky is the only thing illuminating the inside of the cabin right now, and since I’m standing in front of a huge bay window, it’s enough.
On light feet, I make my way through the house, seeing her recording equipment set up in the living room against the large window overlooking the lake.
There aren’t many personal belongings down here, so I decide to head up the stairs to the bedrooms. All the doors are open, making it easy for me to look into each room.
When I see the empty bed in the first one, I move on to the next. Empty. The third room at the end of the hall must be the main bedroom. It’s much bigger than the others.
Stepping inside, my eyes immediately land on the figure lying in the center of the king-size bed. My feet move on their own, as if an invisible string is pulling me into the room until I’m standing at the foot of the bed.
She isn’t wearing a shirt. But the blanket covers everything besides her shoulders and head.
I notice how, in the moonlight, her skin seems porcelain, making her look like a doll.
Her hair falls in a light-pink halo around her head.
Black lashes fan over her cheeks, and her plump lips are slightly parted.
She looks so peaceful sleeping—the opposite of what her personality is, I have to remind myself.
I’m unaware of how long I stand there, just gazing at her sleeping form.
But for some reason it calms the storm inside me.
Maybe it’s the realization that she’s not a real threat.
At this moment she’s at her most vulnerable, and she doesn’t even know what kind of danger she’s in.
If I wanted to, I could kill her tonight.
But I can’t, because it’s not on the schedule yet.
I force myself to step away, taking in the rest of the room instead. Her clothes have been pulled out of her backpack and are scattered around the room. Of course she would be messy.
Making my way to the attached bathroom. I take note of everything on the counter. Toothbrush and paste. At least she brushes her teeth. Lotion, hairbrush, razor, shaving cream . . . nothing out of the ordinary for a woman her age.
Unimpressed with what I find, I walk back into the bedroom, where I stop and look at her one last time. She’s still sleeping, completely unaware of my presence.
I grin, knowing how much more superior I am to her.
Moving quickly but stealthily, I make my way back out into the hallway. I suddenly hear the rustling of sheets, making me jump to the side and into the shadow in the corner. I freeze, holding my breath, before slowly looking over my shoulder to see Sage turning onto her side.
My shoulders relax, and I sigh in relief as I turn back around and start walking again. Unfortunately, I don’t realize how close to the wall I’ve gotten until my arm brushes against a piece of art.
Watching as the picture falls in slow motion, I reach my hand out to catch it, but I’m not fast enough.
The frame falls to the ground, causing me to dash into the closest bedroom.
I am frantically looking around to find somewhere to hide when my gaze lands on the closet doors.
I quickly slide inside and close them, but not all the way, leaving an inch open so I can still see what’s going on.
“Hello?” Sage calls out. “I swear to God, Ryan, if that’s you . . . I will pepper spray your ass for real this time!”
This time? I can’t analyze that tidbit now, but I store the info away for later.
The light in the hallway flickers on, and a moment later Sage appears . . . completely naked. She holds a small can—of what I assume is the pepper spray—out in front of her. Like it’s a lifesaving weapon.
“Ugh!” she groans, noticing the picture on the ground. “He better not charge me for that.”
She’s standing with her back to me, and my eyes are glued to her firm ass as she leans down to pick up the fallen art piece. When she bends over, her pink pussy comes into view, and all the blood drains down to my dick.
Down, boy! Not now.
This isn’t on the schedule and definitely not the place for my cock to be getting hard. Yet here I am, staring at Sage’s shaved private parts while my dick strains against my zipper.
She picks up the picture, placing it back up on the nail. When she turns around, my eyes wander down to her chest, where a set of perky tits greets me.
Dammit, I hate having these urges. They’re so inconvenient.
I squeeze my eyes shut and think of things that will get my erection to go down. Worn socks, wrinkled grandmas—and flip-flops.
When I hear movement coming from the hallway, I open my eyes and see Sage walking toward the staircase instead of going back to bed.
Fuck. That’s my way out.
The sound of her footsteps descending the stairs has me slowly opening the closet door. I slide out and head toward the window, quickly unlocking it and pushing the window panel up. Just enough for me to slip through.
I climb out until I’m hanging on the windowsill by my fingertips. I’m only on the second floor, and there are shrubs beneath me. I’m not too worried, as they will soften my fall. I finally let go, dropping down.
I hit the ground with a quiet thud. My legs give out, and I roll face-first into what I assume is high grass. It’s only when I sit up and look around that I realize I’m not sitting in grass at all, but in poison ivy. Poison fucking ivy. Great.
I get up in a hurry, glad that my body is covered with clothes and that I’m wearing gloves. The only place I have to worry about it touching is my face.
Frustrated with myself, I make my way around the house, staying close to the walls—just in case Sage looks out the windows.
I walk back to my cabin, cursing myself for being so clumsy today.
That’s what I get for not sticking to the original plan.
That woman is causing me to lose my mind.
She’s a distraction I don’t need. I have to get rid of her sooner rather than later.
Maybe I could come up with a plan for dealing with her if I didn’t have to spend the walk reminding myself not to scratch my face.
Something tells me that dealing with Sage is not going to be as easy as I want it to be. She seems to have a habit of creating chaos around her, and that’s something I can’t let happen.