Page 12 of Wicked Riddles & Bitter Heartbeats

I hum a sound of approval, not hating the idea of keeping her. I’ve never had a pet before.

Her head tilts to the side as she takes me in. “What’s your name?” she asks.

“Atticus,” I tell her. She saw what I’m capable of, so giving her my name doesn’t give her power over me. If she thinks I won’t end her life to save mine, she’s crazy. “You’re Lilah.”

She smirks. “Memory?”

I nod, recalling the article I read that was all about Victor Spencer’sgothicdaughter who was obsessed with Satanism and heavy metal music because her father was raping her. What absolute trash that was. Just the bit I spoke about Victor to her tells me that he did not lay a harmful finger on her. Someone did, though. And if that someone hasn’t been taken care of yet, he will be soon.

“So what do you need me to say to the cops?” she asks next.

“I’m still thinking about it.”

She nods, covering her yawn with her arm. I get to my feet and offer her my hand.

“Come on, Kitten. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Kitten?” She furrows her brow as she reaches for my hand.

“I’ve officially dubbed you the stray cat that I’ve brought in from the cold.”

She giggles as we walk to the stairs. “I don’t hate that.”

When we get upstairs, I lead her to the guest room beside mine and open the door.

“Feel free to do what you need to in here. It’s yours until further notice.”

She steps inside, head tilting back to look up and around. “It’s beautiful.”

It was my mother’s favorite room. She spent a lot of time in here. Said the colors made her happy. The walls and carpet are lilac, the furniture white, and there are splashes of teal here and there.

“My room is right there.” I point in the direction of my room. “In case you need anything.”

She turns to face me, biting on her bottom lip. “Anything?”

My dick twitches. It’s been a while since that happened, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about it. I like orgasms as much as the next guy, only getting them from other people isn’t always satisfying, and so sometimes it’s not worth it to go through all the work to get one.

“Anything,” I respond, closing the door gently and heading back downstairs.

I never wanted to give in to these dark urges I have. I fought them for a long time. Years. I’m not so far gone to think it’s okay to kill people, but I just don’t care. I’m too selfish, I guess. Too worried about feeding my own inner-self to care about anyoneelse, because nothing has ever given me the same high the way ending a life does. And not a single human on this planet has cared enough about me to think their lives are worth living.

Why the hell should I care about anyone when no one has ever cared about me?

As I walk downstairs to the library, I think over the options of a good cover story for Lilah, my pretty little kitty. And in thinking it over, I remember how I felt as I bashed in her boyfriend’s throat until there was nothing left. He wanted to touch her there inappropriately? I would touch him there inappropriately. And guess what? I did it so much better.

The high and wild rush of having some asshole’s life in your hands is too good to never do again. Ah, there it is. A small reminder of why Violet and I parted ways.

My mind gets a little crazy when I care about someone. I guess in the same way Lilah’s father went nuts… which makes Lilah potentially more dangerous than Violet ever was.

“We have our whole lives ahead of us, Atticus. Let’s not ruin it over this.”

Eight years have passed since then, and though I still have a full life ahead of me, I’m smarter than I was at that age. Smart enough to do what I need to do and not get caught. Smart enough to enjoy life the way I need to satisfy the darkest parts of myself. I’m numb when I don’t give in to it. Bored. But after tonight? I’m glowing. Everything is brighter. Prettier. My mood is sky fucking high. Killing will do that to you. And maybe the fact I found a sexy little cat to bring into my home helps too. For the first time since I’ve been in this house, it doesn’t feel so lonely.

Yeah, this whole thing is going to be bad for me, I can tell. It’s dangerous, but what’s life without a little excitement?

Lilah isn’t Violet. That’s what I have to keep reminding myself.

I pull out the rolling chair and sit at my desk, resting my face in my hands.

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