Page 6 of Deranged and Obsessed Omnibus: Vol 1

When I looked into her eyes, I couldn’t stop the growl that left me.

The color was a unique shade of blue, soft, but with an amber flecks inside them. She ran the back of her hand along her cheek, wiping off a little smudge of what looked like flour.

When I said nothing, just stared at her, she pursed her lips as if irritated with me. God, why was I noticing these things about her?

It hit me then, like a blow to the chest, hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.The urge.Yet not to kill, not to destroy… but something far worse. The urge topossessher was what claimed me. To own her, to make her mine in a way that went beyond blood and death.

“Can I get you something other than coffee?” There was a little snap of irritation in her voice, and it held an edge, like she didn’t put up with shit from anyone.

Interesting. But then again, working in a place like this, in a city like this, meant she’d have to be tough.

I pushed the menu toward her and ordered a burger and fries. She jotted it down on her pad, gave me a nod, and turned to put the order in. And the whole time, I watched her, my gaze tracking her every movement like the predator I was.

But this wasn’t like before. It wasn’t like when I stalked the next person I was going to kill.

This was… too much? It made me fucking uncomfortable, which wasn’t a feeling I experienced. This was a need that I didn’t know how to satisfy. And that terrified me, which was another emotion I’d never had before.

For the first time in my life, I had no idea what the hell was happening to me.

A man came in and sat at the counter a few spots down from me, then called her over. I focused on the waitress again. I knew Ihadto know more about her. Who she was? How was she causing this sudden, visceral reaction in me?

I watched her from the corner of my eye as she worked behind the counter. She poured coffee for the newest customer, came out from behind it again to take care of her tables, and then I sensed her stop beside me. She took his order, and I really looked at her then. But it was the way he watched her that caught my attention.

His gaze was filthy, slimy as he checked her out. He said something to her, but it was clear she couldn’t hear his mumbled words, as she leaned in closer.

He leaned toward her as well, saying something low enough that I couldn’t hear, but I saw the way the waitress’s shoulders tensed, and the rest of her pulled in tight. Then it happened. His arm came around her hip, and he smacked her ass. I could see over her shoulder he wore a disgusting grin and said something crude that made her flinch and reel back.

And the waitress didn’t hesitate a moment longer. Her hand shot out, and the sharp crack of her slap reverberated through the diner as she connected with his cheek.

For a second, there was a heavy silence and tension that filled the bright, small interior, but then, as if people didn’t fucking care, everyone went back to what they were doing.

The man’s head had whipped to the side from the unexpected force, and he now rubbed his reddened cheek, his muttered curses reaching my ears.

My pulse quickened when I saw a familiar look in his eyes, one directed at the small waitress as she spun and rounded the counter. Male aggression, calculation, and dark need. Strangely enough, it took everything in me not to go up to him and snap his neck.

He’d just singled her out as his prey.

An icy calm settled over me. I already knew who my next victim would be. I’d follow him, wait until he was alone, and then I’d take care of him before he hurt her—which he eventually would if I didn’t stop him. I could smell the stench of his resolve as it reached my nose.

I’d carve the offending hand from his arm—the one he used to slap her ass with—just like I cut Brandon’s an hour before; only this time, I’d remove it fully, bones be damned. I’d wrap it up nicely, slap a bow on it, and give it to her. My little gift.

I noticed the cook, a larger man with a potbelly, came out from the kitchen, a greasy rag—once white but now oil-stained and yellow—thrown over his shoulder. He went up to the man, said something low and menacing, and then pointed at the front door.

The man was only a few stools away from me, so when he stood, I did too, and I purposely stepped into his path. My shoulder brushed against his, and in that split second, my hand slipped into his coat pocket, my deft fingers finding the wallet with ease.

“Watch it,” he snapped, irritation flaring in his eyes… until he looked at me and took in my height and the breadth of my shoulders. He reeked of body odor and booze, but now II could also smell a note of “oh shit.”

Internally, I smirked at the way his anger fizzled as quickly as it originally sparked at our contact.

He muttered something under his breath before backing up and moving around me, heading for the door. I watched him until he left, then tucked the wallet into my jacket and took my seat at the counter once more.

I was already planning my next kill.

The waitress glanced at me, and there was an emotion behind those blue depths that made me even more curious, one I couldn’t identify, even with all my years of studying human emotions so I could mimic them. She watched me like she knew something.

It might have been only a flicker of… thatsomething… in her eyes as she stared at me, but it was enough. Enough to make me want more. Of her. From her.

Everything. I needed to know everything about her—what she liked, what made her smile, what she felt like, what made her scream. The need filled me instantly, aggressively. Violently.

---