Page 51 of Justice

Then a hooded figure appears, grabbing Elle roughly. She struggles weakly, clearly disoriented from the drugs. The man drags her deeper into the woods, out of sight of the camera.

The video ends there, leaving us all shaken and furious.

“I think we need to kill them all. We made a mistake letting them go,” I voice my thoughts.

Derek takes the laptop. “Leave it to me and us old fuckers. We need to have some fun to.” It goes against everything to let him handle it, but I know he needs this.

I just watched a video of my woman being snatched on camera after being drugged by someone who was supposed to be her friend.

My heart is fucking breaking.

The fear on her face and her dazed eyes in the video, hoping someone could help her.

But no one did.

“We don’t tell her. She doesn’t need to know about this,” I tell my brothers, and they nod.

This is something she doesn’t need to know, because all it would do is bring her further pain.

Chapter 9

Eight Months Pregnant

Elle

I walkthrough our house with my hand pressed to the small of my back, my body angry at me for carrying all of this extra weight.

I slide onto our couch, looking at the baby clothes piled on the ottoman that I’ve washed and now need to fold.

It’s so hard to believe our little miracle will be here in a month, she is running out of room in my stomach and is making it known with the kicks she’s giving me.

My phone dings with a news notification and with dread, I pick it up.

I want to throw up.

Two weeks ago, the dead body of a young girl around my age was found murdered.

The part that’s freaking me out is the fact that she looks very similar to me.

Then a week later, it happened again, and this time it was a high school girl that was in foster care.

Both of those girls are from the very school I went to. What is going on?

I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault because it seems that this person is going after people who look like me, because he can’t have me.

A cold shiver runs down my spine because this is now three girls in three weeks and they all look like me.

When the second girl was murdered, it became clear that the killer was targeting people who resembled me. We had to accept the terrifying reality that a serial killer was on the loose, and I could be their next victim.

My hands are shaking as I open the article from the news to read the details about the third body.

I stare at the news article on my phone, my heart pounding as I read the details of the latest murder. Melissa Johnson, age eighteen, found brutally murdered in a wooded area near my old high school. Her photo shows a striking resemblance to me—long blonde hair, dark eyes, similar facial features.

Tears prick at my eyes as memories of Melissa flood back. We had English class together junior year. She was quiet, kept to herself mostly, but she was always kind when we interacted. She didn't deserve this horrible fate.

I startle when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up to see Christopher’s concerned face. "What's wrong, Elle? Angel, talk to me.”

I shake my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. I simply hand him my phone, the damning article still displayed.

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