Page 94 of The Villain

James Enderson.

Phillip Ward.

Scott Butler.

Erick Whittaker.

Paul Goodwin.

Missing person’s reports.

A tracking system for their basic information leading to a dead end.

He knows.

Movement brings my attention to the doorway.

Shade is watching me and his fists are clenched. His blank mask is back.

Mine is in place as well.

I never planned on him knowing this. It’s something that’s done and over to me. Normal people would disagree with the actions I’ve taken.

They owed. They paid. Simple to me. Much more complicated when you add in emotion.

I may need to kidnap him this time. Luckily I know where the knife tucked under the mattress is. I can reach it faster than he can get to any of the other weapons. I wonder where he left his duffel bag of toys. If he has a sedative this will go smoother.

“I have a few questions about that,” he says in a low tense voice. He fidgets where he stands but he doesn’t get out of the doorway.

“Sure,” I say flatly.

“Tell me they suffered, baby,” his voice cracks as his hands start to shake.

My brows furrow at his reaction. “No. I got it done and went home to watch Deckhand Luna.”

“It isn’t enough,” he says roughly and starts shaking his head. “Nowhere near it. Did they beg for their lives? Did they look you in the face and understand why?”

I tilt my head curiously. His monster is coming out and it’s soothing that empty space inside me. I’ve never had that happen without quiet or violence before. It makes my heart hammer.

“They never knew I was there until it was too late. I didn’t stick around after disposal. I prefer not to waste time.”

“No!” He yells in vicious rage. “You should have waited. I would have had them begging you for mercy. I want to break every piece of them I can get to.”

I sit back on my heels with a frown. “There aren’t any graves for you to piss on. I owe. How do I pay?”

His chin drops to his chest as he struggles with his anger. “You don’t owe me, baby. I’m being a selfish dick.”

His complete rage and the heady emotions that just roared out at me make my throat dry. I want more of it. Yet I don’t want him upset either. It’s a puzzle to try and solve.

“I’m surprised at this,” I tell him slowly. “I thought you would want me gone if you knew. Do you?”

I won’t listen if he does now that he’s mine. If he needs to learn that now, so be it.

His head rises to give me a flat look.

“Vigilante justice is normally frowned upon,” I point out with a smirk, taunting his monster into playing. He’s seen me now. It’s my turn to see him. How deep does his monster stretch inside him?

He scoffs and stomps over to the nightstand. He dips to pick up the figurine that fell to the floor at some point without my notice.

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