Page 40 of The Killer You Know

“And Brittney Walker’s kidnapper,” I say. “That monster still has her.”

We take off for the night and Jack drives us back to Pine Ridge Falls, straight to Whispering Woods, and right to the doorstep of my cabin.

Jack helps me get Buddy to the door as the stars blanket the night.

“I meant what I said, Baxter.” He stuffs one hand into the front pocket of his jeans as he pins his gaze to mine.

“I’m too tired for another pop quiz,” I say. “Spell it out for me.”

“You’re beautiful.”

My mouth falls open as he takes off.

“I know where HR is,” I tease as he pulls out of the driveway and heads toward his place.

Beautiful.

I shake my head.

According to his history, Jack Stone thinks just about every woman is beautiful.

The killer has a word they like to use to describe women, too—and that word is slut.

I can’t wait until we track that monster down.

There’s another word that will proliferate their lexicon soon enough and that word is prison.

26

Evil

Here it is, the day I’ve been waiting for. It feels as if I’ve been waiting a lifetime, and in a lot of ways I have.

I linger at the doorway for a moment, clasping my hand over the knob. The profound silence stretching between my captive and me feels like a relief, but the reality is I need to hear her suffer. True relief won’t be here until I’ve had my fill of her torment.

I give the door a light rattle, alerting her to my presence, and the sounds of Brittney’s whimpering breaks through. A testament to the fear permeating through her. And what a rush it is to hear it.

Adrenaline courses through my veins and empowers me, assuring me that I’m making all the right moves.

I’ve dreamed of this, played it out in my mind as a fantasy for years, and here it is. I need to savor it, drink in all of her terror, and let it fuel me for what I need to do next.

“What do you want?” she cries out as if she were in pain. “Please, let me go,” her voice trails off into a sob. The irony of her situation—the once Queen of Mean, now reduced to begging for mercy, doesn’t escape me. “I won’t say anything. I won’t tell anyone what happened. Just—just take off these shackles, open the window, and I’ll crawl out.”

“Brittney, Brittney.” My voice comes out deeper than I could ever hope to get it with the instrument I’m using to enhance it. I’ll admit, it gave me chills just to hear it the first time as well. It’s perfect for our little game. “You know that can’t happen. The next time you leave this room, it will be in pieces.”

A scream rips from her and I can’t help but chuckle once more.

“Please,” she cries out as I open the door and step inside. I made certain her shackles wouldn’t allow for her to reach the exit, and judging by the fact she’s cowering in the corner of the bed, she has no plans to.

I’m covered from head to foot, clad in black, not one stitch of my flesh is visible. And I’ve got a megawatt flashlight shining right at her in the event she tries to get a good look at me regardless.

Her hands fly to her face and her eyes struggle to squint at the bright light. It’s chronically dark in here, save for the weak nightlight, so this explosion of illumination can’t feel too good.

Her hair is matted on one side, her clothes look disheveled, and her eyes are wild with fright.

Brittney Walker has officially gone feral and I couldn’t be more pleased to have played a part. In truth, she’s always been feral on the inside. I just helped the outside match for once.

Something squirms in her lap and I squint that way.

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