Page 28 of Cruel Cravings

Almost as if on some level, shedidrealize what she was doing. She was manipulating the situation in her favor.

I grew hard watching the slinky fabric slide over her skin. Her figure was slim-waisted and tall but there were plenty of curves to enjoy. Breasts and ass that were shaped like fruit. A peach of an ass that was perfect and melons my hands ached to fondle.

But through the arousal burned the rage and jealousy. The thought that she was doing this for some man she had never even met before.

She applied lipstick and fluffed her thick cloud of hair and then she was out. I trailed after her every step of the way, the dark shadow she’d never be able to shake.

The Velvet Piano was crowded when she arrived. Winston stood outside waiting for her, sucking on a cigarette. He undressed her with his eyes and the rage inside me reached a new boiling point. His hand found the small of her back and he guided her inside.

I needed to find my way in too.

But I was huge. Disfigured. Unsightly with my scars and even more unnerving with my mask.

I went around the back of the bar and found a side door with a lock I could pick and muscle open. I cut into a storage room where there happened to be security monitors flickering, each one a different angle of the premises.

It wasn’t perfect. I couldn’t hear what was being said. The only thing I could hear were the indistinct notes of piano music and buzzing chatter from the barroom floor.

What I could see made up for what I couldn’t hear. Winston had reserved them a table, where he proceeded to lean into her space and grin cockily at her.

Jael was uncomfortable. She pulled back. Her brows connected, discomfort written all over her face.

I clenched my fists, the edges of the room blurring. My rage threatened to consume me. I could blackout like I’ve done in the past and come to, realizing the extent of my destruction. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened, even where Jael was concerned…

Eventually, Winston grew bored of his one-sided flirting and stood up to go outside for a smoke. He weaved through the crowd, eyeballing the other women he found attractive.

I followed him.

The alley behind the bar was narrow and dimly lit. The air reeked of garbage and stale beer. He leaned against the wall, a lit cigarette between his lips. He blew smoke out in ringlets like it made him appear more impressive.

I was only a few feet away, steeped in deep shadows.

I stood there watching him. Muscles clenched, body coiled like a spring, I was a predator on the hunt.

My head filled with images of my hands wrapped around his throat. The life would drain from his face and he’d go limp in my hold. Those images weren’t enough to satisfy my bloodlust,morphing into a more vivid imagining of his skull bashed against brick.

His blood spraying everywhere.

His screams of agony echoing into the crisp night air.

I would crush him like nothing. Take his life with my bare hands.

It would be deserved. It was necessary when defending what was mine. And Jael Hendrix was mine in every way, no matter how hard she resisted and how far away she ran.

9.Jael

pretty kitten - Dua Saleh

“Authorities are baffled by the murder of 47-year-old Stanley Vedder. Vedder was found dead yesterday at the Mariner’s Motel, after sustaining numerous stab wounds. Police have yet to confirm if Vedder’s death is connected to the notorious Cleaver murders, though numerous media outlets are speculating that is the case. The Cleaver, still on the run, has evaded capture for weeks now. Investigators urge anyone with information to call the tip line at?—”

I switch off the radio, the voice cutting to silence. I’m in the driver’s seat of the station wagon at yet another truck stop, a greasy burger in hand. It’s day two on the road and I’m closer than ever to my destination.

Just a few more hours.

In the meantime, I needed more fuel for the wagon but also for myself. I turned on the radio hoping for more staticky tunes of whatever genre the radio station in the area was playing. Instead, I’ve been confronted by more updates about the Cleaver.

Everyone really is obsessed.

But the police have been two steps behind so far. They’re tripping over their own theories, chasing breadcrumbs that lead to nowhere. It seems they don’t even realize their trail went cold a long time ago.

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