Page 25 of Holy Sinner

“How does she drop them off if you don’t see her?”

“Oh god. I knew I shouldn’t have opened the door. Why the fuck did I-”

“How does she drop them off?”

“I-she comes when I’m sleeping. They’re always there in the morning. I don’t know anything else other than that. She drops the photos off with instructions and when I do it, there’s cash the next morning.”

“Like the fucking tooth fairy, huh?” I raise my knife and slam it into his shoulder.

Aaron Jamie screams and I clap a hand over his mouth. I gotta give him credit, he bites down and screams, tries to draw blood, but the leather on my gloves is too thick and I slap him upside the head before he can do anything else.

“You little bitch. You bit me. Really?” I tuck my knife up under his chin and tsk. “Do it again and I’ll put this knife right through you. Turn your brain to fucking mush, you got me?”

I’m going to do that anyway, but I let him think there’s hope. It’s always fun when they think there's a chance they’ll get away. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a single person not think they were going to get away from me…at least, at first.

There’s a moment when they know they’re done.

That moment isn’t fun.

It’s fucking sweet.

“And you fucking stabbed me!” He hisses and tries to turn his head but all I do is shove the knife harder until he stops. “I don’t even know who she is. Oh my god.”

“When does she contact you?” I ask and reach forward to scroll through the emails. I look for a pattern in the dates. I count the weeks, the days of the week he’s contacted but there’s nothing. It’s random and there’s nothing in the emails more than a notice that there will be a job soon with a payment amount. The only thing Aaron Jammie sends back is a yes or no to taking the job.

“It’s just Kit she wants. Why?” I ask when I see the email directions: Get her picture tomorrow morning. She’ll be alone.

Someone’s been following Kit when we aren’t around.

There’s seventeen emails that he’s been sent and out of those, fifteen are specifically about Kit with directions and times on where he can find her. Whoever is behind this has been busy. I didn’t think there were that many photos focused just on Kit, not really. Someone has been after her and I’m a fucking idiot for not seeing it sooner. Rage comes quick and hot and I take a deep inhalation like Maria has been ordering me to do. I count to ten and it helps some. When I let out my next breath it’s easier to think and not act on impulse.

I click off of the emails and search up snuff porn. I hit play on the first thing that comes up and a woman’s scream fills the air while I think about keeping Aaron Jamie around for longer. I think about torturing him in the hopes that he might remember something, but I don’t. I might not have noticed someone targeting Kit but I’m not dumb enough not to know that Aaron Jamie is a dead fucking end.

I sigh when I get to the end of the email chain and see there’s nothing after last night.

“You haven’t emailed her. Why?”

“Because it’s too fucking much. Y-you came after me last night and that was never part of the deal and now you’re here. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t!”

I hum and step back from him. “You’re right. You won’t.”

There’s a subtle shift in the air, something that feels electric and frenzied but heavy all the same. It’s the feeling that descends when I’ve decided. When they realize there’s no getting away. Sometimes they feel it and sometimes they don’t. Aaron James feels it. The porn on his computer keeps playing and a woman begs.

He throws his arms out like he’s going to try and make a run for it. “Fuck, no! Please, I-”

“Hey, hey, it’s all right,” I tell him as I step into his space and jerk my knife up against his jaw like I said I would. Aaron Jamie is shaking and trembling. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s pissed himself. “Wrap your hands on the knife. Take it.”

He freezes. The glimmer of hope feels bright. He sees a way out. I know he does.

“W-what?”

I give the knife a wiggle and lean down to whisper in his ear. “Take the knife. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll leave.”

“You’ll go if I take the knife?”

He puts a trembling hand on mine and I tsk. “Both hands now. Come on and take it. That’s all I want.”

“B-but why?” His voice is a rasp, so low that I can hardly hear it over the moaning and screaming playing on the computer.

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