by B. B. Hamel
Days pass. I don’t say a word. I wait for him to come out and tell me himself. I don’t want to nag or make his life harder, but I’m stuck in the dark and I’m beginning to panic.
I make up my mind one night while he’s away. The moon is full outside and I sit on his deck in a chair, staring up at the sky, a fire raging in his outdoor fireplace beside me. I have a glass of red wine and a big, cozy blanket, and I’m pretty content as I wait for him to get home.
I hear him pull in around three in the morning. I know he’s going to be exhausted, but I can’t let that deter me. He comes into the house and I watch him through the glass doors as he puts away his keys and pours himself a drink before coming out to stand in the doorway.
“You’re still up,” he says, watching me.
“I like to wait for you.”
He nods. “Thanks.”
I pause for a second then casually ask, “How was it tonight?”
He looks at me. I can’t tell if he realizes that it’s the first time I’ve asked about his hunt in a few days or not.
“It was okay,” he says finally.
“What happened?”
He pauses, clearly trying to decide what to tell me. “It was uneventful,” he says finally.
“Noah,” I say, watching his expression. “You can’t keep pushing me away.”
“Pushing you away?” He cocks his head at me.
“You stopped the training. You don’t tell me what’s happening out there. You’re barely home as it is.” I stand up and take a step toward him. “You’re pushing me away.”
“That’s not my intention,” he says softly.
“So then stop. Tell me what’s happening.”
“You don’t need to know.”
“I don’t?” I can feel anger inside of me, but I keep it at bay. “Am I not involved?”
“You don’t need to be.” His face doesn’t betray a single thing and it drives me insane.
“You seem to have forgotten that I killed with you.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“So then why am I not involved?”
“The cops are looking for you,” he says, still watching me carefully. “Even if I wanted to bring you out there, I can’t. Telling you about this will only make it harder.”
“So make it harder.” I stand closer to him but I don’t break my gaze. I won’t back down from him. I’ll do as he asks, but he has to do his part, too.
He can’t just keep me here in the dark, disappearing all the time to go hunting. I need to be cared for, watched over. I need him to talk to me, touch me, kiss me. I need human contact. I can’t just keep drifting around his property like a bored, lost soul, a prisoner in a beautiful cage.
“Amelia,” he says, “I thought we were done with this.”
“I promised to stay here and I am. But I didn’t promise to stay silent while you disappear and refuse to tell me what’s going on.”
“I can see how that might be frustrating,” he says slowly. Hope swells in my chest that he’s beginning to see reason. “But that doesn’t change anything.”
And that hope is quickly dashed. “I want to help,” I say, and then continue before he can speak over me. “I know I can’t leave here, but at least let me listen to you. You’re stressed, Noah. You’re barely sleeping and you’re gone all day.”
“Do you want to help me,” he says slowly, “or are you just bored?”
I blink at him then sigh. “Maybe both. But I want to help more than I’m bored.”
“This is my process,” he says. “What I’m doing . . . who I’m messing with . . . it’s really dangerous. I’m not telling you because I’m protecting you.”
“I don’t need to be protected.”
“You do,” he says simply. “As much as you think you don’t, you definitely do.”
“Maybe from the police.”
“From these people, too,” he says softly. “They’re powerful, Amelia. Frankly, they make me very fucking nervous.”
“So back off.” I step toward him again, aching to reach out and touch his face, but I can’t. I won’t be the weak one. I can’t be, not anymore. “You don’t need them.”
“I can’t,” he says. “Not when I know what’s going on in there. I have to kill them.” He pauses, his eyes not leaving mine. “I need to kill them.”
I nod slowly, understanding, but afraid of my own understanding. It isn’t something he can control, this desire. He can’t really direct himself toward something else, not when he’s already attached to this place. He can’t walk away because if he did, his need would never be placated.
He has to kill them. And I understand all of that, because I feel the same way, too. He doesn’t realize it yet, and maybe I don’t fully realize it either, but I want to kill because I need to feel that way again. I need that release and crave it just as badly as he does.
“I need to sleep,” he says, knocking his drink back. He disappears back into the house without another word.
I watch him go, hating how that went. I want to follow him, kiss him, touch his body, apologize, and make things right. But I can’t.
I need him to bring me with him. I need him to let me in, fully and completely.
Maybe it was a mistake to stay. Maybe I would have been better off out in the world.
But I made this choice. I’m here now and I have to find a way to deal with it. I have to find a way to make him see what I need. He’ll give it to me, if only he understands.
I’ll make him understand.
25
Noah
“I thought you might want to see this.”
I crouch down next to Ryan. He looks grim, more different from his normal jovial self. He hands me a piece of paper, which I hesitantly accept.
It’s the day after the full moon. My conversation with Amelia keeps playing in my head over and over, and I have no clue what I’m supposed to do about it. On the one hand, I can see where she’s coming from. She feels trapped and bored and frustrated. I opened her up to this whole new world within her, and now I’m keeping it away from her.
But on the other, she clearly has no clue how serious this is. The police are looking for someone that matches her description. More than that, her father went missing not too long ago, and she’s likely on a list somewhere, too. I don’t know if they’ll make the connection between some poor Southside girl and this murder, but it’s possible that they will. The stakes are high, incredibly high, and we’re playing a serious balancing game.
If I let her join me, and someone happens to spot her, we’re finished. She can’t come back to the area around the warehouse because she could easily be identified by the person that originally saw her. It’s just too much of a risk.
I glance down at the paper and frown. It’s a police sketch with some reward information beneath it. Apparently, there’s a five thousand dollar reward out for Amelia’s whereabouts, though they don’t know her name and the sketch doesn’t look that much like her.
I look back at Ryan, frowning. “What’s this supposed to mean?”
“That girl is wanted in connection with the murder of Sheer.” He lets that sink in.
I stare at him for another second longer. “Are you blackmailing me?”
He shakes his head. “Not at all. I’m asking for another bribe.”
I stand up and take a step back, completely blown away.
Ryan has never pushed his position before. He has been loyal, helpful, and kind. I’ve grown to really enjoy talking with him and even somewhat think of him as a friend.
Although it shouldn’t, this feels like a betrayal.
“What do you want?” I ask him.
“That’s offering five grand. I want you to match it.”
I laugh. “You just want money?”
“That’s right.”
“How about I give you ten?”
He pauses and then frowns, looking at the ground, “I’d take ten.”
“If this is ju
st money for you, I’ll give you some fucking money,” I say. “But disappear. Leave this city.”
He looks at me, and for a second I see fear in his eyes. But that’s gone, replaced by a guilty conscience. “I’m so close,” he says. “I just need a little more, and then I can get my own place. Plus a little saved up, you know, until I can get a job.”
“Jesus, Ryan,” I say, crouching back down, the anger deflating a bit. “This is about getting back on your feet?”
He nods. “I got robbed a few months back, or else I’d be all set now.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“I don’t want pity.” He shakes his head and I sigh.
“Listen, I’ll give you ten grand. But you just threatened me, you know that?”
“I know.” He looks back at the ground.
“I never want to see you again. Don’t show up anywhere near my places. Leave the city if you can, but if you can’t, I better not hear about you.” I pause and stare at him, letting him understand that I’m serious. “Or I’ll hunt you down and disappear you like I’ve made so many other men disappear.”
He recoils from me. “Yeah, okay.”
“Good. I’ll drop cash in that trash can tomorrow at two.” I point at a nearby trashcan. “You better grab it before someone else does.”
“I will.”
I stand up. “Good luck. And remember.”
He nods as I turn and walk away, the police sketch clutched in my hand.
I don’t know how this week can get any fucking worse. Things with Amelia are falling apart, the hunt is much more dangerous than I could have guessed, and now Ryan is trying to fucking blackmail me. I just lost my best informant and all over some fucking money.
I wish he had just asked for the cash. I could have gladly given it to him. But now he’s one more thing that I have to worry about. I don’t want to kill him, but if he makes one wrong move, I’ll stab him through the heart and watch him bleed.
I can’t risk it. He knows way too much about me and can pin me to way too many murders. I never imagined he would be a liability, but now he is.
This city is getting dangerous for me. It’s all happening fast. Barely a few weeks ago I was the top predator in this damn city and nobody would ever think to cross me.
Now I feel like I’m bleeding from every hole in my body.
I’m in an awful mood when I get home. During the drive out of the city, my thoughts lingered on every negative aspect of my life at this moment, and I couldn’t see any positive light. The only nice thing was Amelia, but even she was turning against me.
I walk inside and go into the kitchen. It’s around five in the evening and I am supposed to watch the warehouse again, but I pour myself a drink anyway. Amelia is sitting outside near the fire again reading a Harry Potter book.
I can’t help myself. I walk toward her, looking at her through the glass.
She’s beautiful. It strikes me all over again how gorgeous she is. She’s reading the sixth Harry Potter, which is surprising. She tore through that series so quickly.
She’s wearing one of my crewneck sweatshirts and a pair of jeans with a blanket tossed over her feet. She doesn’t notice me standing there, and so I take the opportunity to watch her.
I can’t help but smile. Ever small motion she makes brings a feeling in my chest that I can’t deny. It’s the strongest attraction I’ve ever felt before. I love the way she screws her face up as she reads, turning the pages slowly then quickly so that she doesn’t have to pause between them. The memory of that night when she killed Sheer, and then the feeling of her tight cunt against my hard cock, makes my stomach do flips.
But I can’t get sucked into her. I have to remind myself what the stakes are and what could happen if I let her get her way.
I do want to make her happy. I truly, truly do. I want to give her everything imaginable. My smile fades as I look down at the piece of paper in my hand, the police sketch of her. The likeness isn’t perfect, but it’s pretty damn close. If the witness that made this sketch found her again, I am positive that he could ID her easily. I can’t risk that. I won’t risk losing her.
That’s what this is all about. I want to protect her. I want to keep her with me for a long, long time. I want her to learn my skills and to hunt with me. I want to feel the thrill of a kill and then the intense, unbridled passion as I fuck her over my victim’s dead body. I crave her so fucking badly that it’s almost impossible to ignore.
But I have to ignore it anyway. I can’t just give her what she wants. That’s not how this works. She must do as I say. Until then, I can’t fully trust her.
“What’s that?”
I look up, surprised from my thoughts. I pull the door all the way open. Amelia smiles at me, looking at the paper in my hand.
“Ryan gave this to me.” I carry it over and hand it to her.
She takes it and reads it, the smile disappearing slowly from her face.
“Is this me?” she asks.
“Supposed to be.”
She shakes her head. “This could be anyone.”
“Not anyone.”
“Do you think this looks like me?” She waves the paper at me, annoyed.
“Yes,” I admit. “I do. Not exactly, but enough to be worrying.”
She sighs and looks back at it. “I can’t believe it.”
“Believe what?”
She grins at me. “Only five grand? I’m worth more.”
I can’t help but laugh a little. She hands the paper back to me and stretches.
“Ryan threatened me,” I blurt out, not sure why.”
“He what?” she asks, pausing, a surprised look on her face.
“Threatened me. Said he’d turn me in for this prize money unless I matched it.”
“That bastard,” she said softly.
“I’m going to give him ten. He’s just desperate.”
“You’re paying him?”
“I am,” I say. “It’s easier than killing him.”
“Dead men don’t talk.”
“I worked with him for a long time, Amelia. I’m not an animal.”
She leans forward, elbows on her knees, and puts her head in her hands. “God, this is a mess.”
“You’re right.” I sit down next to her and put my arm over her shoulders. “It’ll be okay. He won’t talk.”
“It’s just one thing after another.”
“We’ll get through it.”
She looks up at me. “Will we? You’ll keep going out there, doing your thing, and I’ll do, what? Nothing. I’ll sit here and rot.”
I sigh but she pulls away from me, standing.
“Amelia,” I say.
“No, it’s fine. I know this isn’t all about me, Noah.” She walks back into the house and shuts the sliding door behind her.
I lean back and groan. I’m not sure what I did wrong, but I don’t have the energy to try and fix it. I just need her to hold on for a little bit longer.
Because I have a plan. Something that I think will fix everything for us. I can do it soon, but I just need a little bit more time. I just need her to hold on for a little bit longer, and then I think I know how to fix things.
26
Amelia
I feel bad about storming away from him on the deck. He meant well and was trying to console me, but I had to turn it into a dramatic fight. That way, he’d believe it when I locked my bedroom door and didn’t answer him. He’d think I was just stewing there alone.
Instead, I ran up into my room, changed my clothes, and packed a bag. By the time he was back inside, I was already out front, climbing into the trunk of his car with his spare keys clutched in my hand.
Which is how I find out that riding in the trunk of a car is very, very uncomfortable. There’s nothing to protect you from every single little bump in the road. There’s no padding back there. And so every time the car hit a little bump, I was jostled around. It feels like forever, riding in the trunk of a car, althou
gh I know it only takes forty minutes at most to get into the city. Eventually, the car stops and the engine cuts off. I stay perfectly still, counting to two hundred in my head, waiting for him to get far enough away.
Finally, I use the release latch to pop the hatch and I climb out as fast as I can. My heart is hammering, terrified that he’s still in the car, but as soon as my feet hit the pavement I know I’m in the clear.
I shut the trunk and get my bearings. The car is empty and there’s nothing in the back. I recognize the neighborhood I’m in, and I know it’s maybe a five-minute walk to the warehouse.
He must be somewhere around there. I know how he stakes these places out, more or less. I start heading in that direction, nervous but determined.
I don’t have a plan. Not exactly, anyway. I have a general idea of what to do, which is find him and prove to him that I can be trusted. Maybe it’s stupid and naïve of me, but I can’t sit around anymore. We can go back and forth about this all day long, or I can take some action and prove to him that I’m worth trusting.
It’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. But I can’t help myself. Noah is handsome, gorgeous really, and brilliant. He’s skilled and sexual and everything I want. But I need this. I can’t just keep sitting inside like a good, demure little girl anymore. That’s not who I am.
I approach the block that the warehouse is on and turn left. I cut down an alleyway and head toward the buildings which face it. My plan is to scout out the area, keeping away from the warehouse itself, while also keeping an eye out for Noah. I assume he’s around here somewhere, and I’m guessing I’ll just stumble on him eventually. I know he likes to hide in plain sight, so I keep an eye on every stoop and gathering of people that I can find.
I do a single circuit of the area, keeping half a block between me and the warehouse at all times. There aren’t many other people out, and the ones that are out just ignore me. I keep my hair up under a hat that I have pulled low over my eyes so that I’m not easily recognizable. The sweatshirt I’m wearing underneath a dark jacket makes me look bulky and heavier than I actually am. I doubt that anyone could recognize me in this little disguise.