Page 6 of Seth
“Why?”
“I don’t know…” Diego’s expression softened as he looked at the mutilated body. “He looks… pure.”
Gustavo nodded. “He slit his throat then cut his chest open to remove the heart, all on a living body. Do you think it’s his first victim?”
Diego cocked his head, eyes narrowing. “Why does it matter?”
“I saw him. He saw me. He wasn’t scared at all. I think he wanted to kill me. And fuck me if it wasn’t the most exciting moment I’ve had in years.”
“I’m happy for you?”
Watching a mixture of confusion and amusement swirl behind Diego’s eyes, Gustavo snorted. “I want to see him again, play with him, corner him.”
“Corner him?” Diego blinked as his thick brows drew together. “He is loco! Have you seen what he did to the boy?”
Gustavo’s mood improved. His blood ran quicker, absorbing the excitement of the dying night. He lifted his hand and fisted the air imagining how fun it would be to meet the beast again.
“If you had seen him, you would understand. He made me feel... alive. Collect the powder. I want it. Clean up the scene, and get the body to the lab. I want to know everything about this boy and his killer.” He turned toward the body. “Put this place under surveillance. When the body isn’t found, he’ll come checking, and when he does, I want you to track him down.”
After a minute of silence, Diego drawled, “I bet my Bentley he will kill you.”
Gustavo grinned. “You’re on.”
“And if you lose?”
“What do you want?”
“Change your will. If he kills you within a year from the moment you find him, I want your yacht. No cheating. Active play only. No hiding either.” He thought for a moment, then added. “Actually, I want your yacht even if you die naturally. Keep it in the will.”
“Who’s hiding, you fucker?” Gustavo shook his head in disbelief, but he still stretched out his hand.
His memory trailed back to the dark eyes and the wicked smile the man showed as he offered him the bleeding heart. Turning to the sprawled, motionless body, he whispered to no one in particular, “Loco you say? I will find you, Loco.”
* * *
Seth floppedontothe plastic film enveloping the car seat, leaned against the backrest, and closed his eyes letting energy stream through his body.
Things had gone horribly wrong tonight, but he didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to dissolve in the blissful euphoria that flowed through him.
Mine...He squeezed the heart in his fist. Red drops, leaking out of the stumps of blood vessels, skated down his wrist, dripped on his knees. His fingertips drummed, remembering, recreating the powerful beating of life in his fist. His whole body vibrated with the hormonal overdrive as if he was woven of pure energy. Unable to contain it, he let it wash over him, dissolve him, rebuild him.
Only minutes later, when his shallow breathing slowed, he opened his eyes. His head whipped to the side; he stared at the nearly finished building looming in the dark.
What a mess.His mind raced, recreating the smallest details that could connect him to the crime. He wanted to return, to kill everyone who stood between him and Justin, but it was too late. Most likely, the man had called the cops already. And he wasn’t alone. Even if Seth tried, he wouldn’t be able to kill so many or clean up the mess afterward. Returning was pointless.
What was he even doing there?A man dressed in a smart suit, walking the construction site at night with a security team, suggested they came to do business. And there was only one business Seth could think of—something similar to his own.
If they came to get rid of a body, maybe they wouldn’t be too eager to call the cops. He craved to go back and collect the evidence. That would save him so much hassle. That would also reunite him with Justin.
Seth flinched, realizing he’d let himself hope.
Even four hundred years before Christ, Plato3had already known that hope was a foolish counselor. Euripides4called it a curse of humanity, and Sophocles5thought of it as a human foible that only served to stretch out suffering. Seth agreed with every word, but he still couldn’t let Justin go.
Don’t be stupid. You made too many mistakes already.
Even if the man didn’t report him, the body would be found in the morning. The blood trail he’d left would lead to the parking lot, but there were no cameras around; he’d made sure of it. By the time the police connected the sand to him and found his car, he would have gotten rid of the plastic wrap covering the wheel, dashboard, seats, and floor.
Seth didn’t worry about the man. Only seeing his face once, under cover of the night, the chances that the intruder would recognize him in daylight were slim. But the sand would lead straight to him. Also, his fingertips, his DNA, were all over Justin, let alone his clothes left by the sand bed.
