Page 3 of Claiming His Bunny
My good neighbor disguise is a failsafe, one I hope I’ll never have to use. I’m being careful, not leaving any trails for the feds to follow. I don’t leave evidence behind. No bodies, no clues. There’s no collection of teeth or hair in my bedside drawer. Some people just go missing, never to be heard from again. That happens all the time.
Of course, to be on the safe side, I’ve hacked into the FBI system and set up procedures to alert me if they ever start looking into any of my victim’s disappearances. So far, it hasn’t reported anything.
Forcing myself back to the present, I eye the pile of folders on Victoria’s desk. “So many new cases?”
The department is severely understaffed, but sadly, that’s not something I can help them with. I have psychopathic tendencies and solve problems by killing people. I’m pretty sure those are terrible traits for a social worker.
“Some,” Victoria replies. “Some are just old cases getting reassigned. We finally got a new social worker. She transferred from the Kansas City office.”
That catches my attention. She? Perhaps the goddess I just ran into wasn’t a hallucination? “From a big city to Bluebell Springs?” Who does that?
“We offered a ton of benefits, including her own house,” Victoria explains. “And I get the feeling she was looking for a fresh start. Our town is the perfect place for that, wouldn’t you say?”
“Mmm,” I hum noncommittally, not taking her bait. I’m not about to talk about my past. “Did you vet her?” Some social workers are in the field just to get easy access to children for nefarious purposes. Usually, they tend to be men, but one can never be too careful.
Victoria rolls her eyes. “Of course I did. She has great references and her former boss was reluctant to let her go. He said that Kayla Reynolds was one of the greatest assets of his department.”
Kayla Reynolds. The goddess has a name. And apparently, she’s perfect.
She can’t be perfect. I need to dig into her past and find a flaw. That will help me stop obsessing about her. But I can’t keep questioning Victoria. “Well, I hope it works out well,” I tell her instead, pretending like I don’t care about Kayla Reynolds at all. “Do you have any other cases for me?”
Victoria frowns at a folder, but she doesn’t hand it over. “Not at the moment. I might have something later, but I want my people on it first. Hopefully, it’s just false accusations.”
From the way her expression hardens, I can tell she doesn’t believe it. But unless she requests my help, I’ll stay out of it. Bluebell Springs is too small of a town for people to suddenly start disappearing. “Just reach out when you need me, Victoria. You know I’m always ready to help.”
She gives my hand a firm shake, guiding me to the door. “You’re a good man, Ethan,” she says as I leave. “I’m grateful for your help. And…whatever happened to you in the past is long gone. Let yourself be happy.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Nothing happened to me, Victoria,” I mutter, then make my way out of the department. I don’t add the “and I’m not a good man” that’s on the tip of my tongue, even though it’s true.
I’mnota good man. There’s a monster inside of me that craves death and destruction. I do my best to keep it on a leash and only let it loose to hunt other monsters, but every time I do, I risk someone innocent getting hurt.
The monster in question stirs, hungry. I’ll need to let it out soon, unless I want it to consume the last shreds of my sanity. I have my next target lined up. All I need now is to recheck the evidence and then wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. Until then, I have a goddess to stalk.
Chapter 3
Kayla
By the end ofmy first day at Bluebell Springs, I have a shiny new access card and a shiny new laptop. The photo on the card is terrible and I can’t log in to the laptop, because the only IT guy in the whole town hall is at home, sick, but those are just minor hitches.
I shadow Michelle all day, listening attentively as she explains all the local processes to me. Unsurprisingly, they’re pretty much the same as what I’m used to. I’m excited to start working on my own cases, but that will have to wait until the weekly department meeting tomorrow. And, of course, until the IT guy stops puking his guts out and adds my credentials into the system.
All in all, the day went better than I expected. My new colleagues are friendly and welcoming. They even insisted that next Friday, I join them on their regular outing to a local bar.
I’m not a bar person, but I agreed happily. I love that they want to include me. I’m not about to mess it up by acting like a stuck-up bitch who snubs a small-town bar, which is what they expected. And that’s not a guess. They literally told me that’s what they expected. Convincing them it’s not true has become one of my new life goals. I want them to like me, and I don’t care if it makes me sound needy.
This is my first time living on my own, in a new town, working a new job. I need as many friends as I can get.
Thinking of friends reminds me of Amy, and I quickly dial her number as I load the groceries into my car. My house—I actually have a HOUSE!—has a fridge, which, of course, was strikingly empty when I arrived yesterday. Fortunately, there are several decent restaurants in town that deliver to my new place. My new house. Un-fucking-believable.
“Kayla!” Amy’s voice comes through the car’s speakers.
I start the engine and carefully back out of the parking lot. Wouldn’t want to ruin my great first day by dinging someone’s car. “Amy! How are you?”
“Me? No, no, girl. We’re not talking about me. It was your first day, so spill it! How are your new coworkers? Are they giving you trouble? Are there some sexy hunks around?”
I smirk as I remember Ethan. “Everyone is real nice. Director Smith assigned a great mentor to show me around. We went over the paperwork, I got the employee card…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Stop avoiding the real question. What about the guys?”
