Page 27 of The Butterfly Killer

It was just as Lily had described. It was nothing more than a fan-made magazine all about the Butterfly Killer. Plastered on the cover was a pinned butterfly. Underneath it was “behind the mastermind” and “get inside the head of the infamous killer”.

He made a disgusted sound. He almost ripped the pages as he roughly opened the distasteful thing open. He flipped through, his heartbeat rising higher and higher as he saw more and more of the same. The people who put this thing together didn’t care about the victims. They loved this killer. They worshipped the ground he walked on.

He threw the magazine back under the sink.

So the copycat wanted Marcus know people were going to love him more.

Anger surged inside of him. He thought about throwing a punch at the mirror, but he stopped himself. He wasn’t going to trash his sister’s house and have to explain himself when this was over.

If this was ever going to be over because what he didn’t want to contemplate was that they might not catch this guy—not until it was too late to save Lilianna or even Marcus.

He sagged onto the toilet. He clenched his hair in his fists and yanked at the strands.

The tears stung his eyes. He couldn’t tell if they were from sadness or if it was his anger getting the best of his emotions. He refused to let them fall. He didn’t care if he was in private and no one could see him—he wasn’t going to let this asshole have the satisfaction of making him cry.

He held the tears back. He abruptly stood up from the toilet and strode out of the house. He didn’t know where he was going. He just needed to get out. He made sure to lock the door and have the key with him. He should have gone to sleep or boarded himself up in the house to stake the killer out, but he couldn’t.

He was so blinded by his thoughts he didn’t see the guy from before walking in front of him until he was running into him.

“I’m so sorry!”

Marcus snapped out of his narrowed sighted mood and took a hard look at the man in front of him.

He’d changed out of his running gear and was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He gave Marcus a wide smile, bringing out the dimples in his cheeks. His hair was semi-wet, still drying, but even still, it looked styled. He looked like a model or a poster boy.

“Uh…” Marcus blinked a couple times. “It’s alright. I should have been looking where I was going.”

He stood there awkwardly, not knowing if he should keep walking or say something to the man. He didn’t feel like doing either. He actually wanted to run back to the house and lock himself inside.

The man sensed the awkwardness and put his hand out. “I’m Micheal. I live down the street. I’m really sorry about that and also for Peter. His house was broken in a couple years ago and he’s been really vigilant about strangers being in the neighborhood.”

Marcus tried to be polite. A snark remark about Peter most likely not liking the homeless on the tip of his tongue.

“That’s understandable,” he said behind a tight-lip smile. “I actually have to get going. Thanks for—uh—stopping him from calling the cops on me.”

He started back toward the house. Michael didn’t seem to catch the hint that he wanted to be alone. The guy started walking alongside him on the sidewalk.

“So I heard you’re house sitting for the Clifftons.”

Marcus didn’t like that this guy was trying to get so close to him. He didn’t know if the guy was just being friendly or if it was malicious in a way. With his anti-social personality, it was hard to tell the difference.

“Yeah. I am,” he said, not looking at Michael. The spurt of energy he had died and he felt like he was going to hit the ground.

“Do you know when they’re coming back?”

Marcus shot Michael a strange look. Michael laughed it off.

“Sorry. That sounded strange. I’m a little too curious for my own good. I just find it strange that they left in the middle of April. Daniel doesn’t like taking vacations.”

Marcus abruptly stopped. “Why do you know so much about them?”

Michael raised a brow. “Daniel works in the same office. He’s always boasting about how much he loves his job and doesn’t want to be away from it.”

Marcus looked at the man in a new way. His eyes wandered down Michael’s body. He was tall but average. He struck Marcus as being popular—he didn’t seem like the type who would have trouble with women or men. He was well groomed and seemed charming on the outside (though Marcus wasn’t good at gauging that kind of thing).

Marcus tried to picture Michael in the place of the killer in his mind. When he saw Michael crouched by any of the bodies, looking up at Marcus as he entered the room, it didn’t feelright. This guy didn’t have anything to prove. He wasn’t the kind of person who needed to best someone—he was too used to winning in his life to have the urge to seek that kind of validation.

Marcus started walking again. He thought Michael would catch the hint, but the guy followed him like a tick in his side.

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