Page 25 of In The Dark
I might murder people for a living, but I’m also a considerate guy.
Unbuckling my helmet and resting it on top of my shoes, I take my time looking through the house. I can’t help but smile at how neat and organized it is. The walls are vibrant shades of yellow, pink, and blue. There are knickknacks here and there: a wooden figurine on the mantle in the living room. A plastic banana on the counter in the kitchen. A clay horse in the middle of the coffee table and I laugh, having so many questions.
The hall is full of photos, and I stop to study them. There are several of Maxine and Skyler through the years. Individual shots and one of what must be Skyler’s family. I touch a funny one of Maxine with a dog in her lap, her grin wide and her hair longer than it is now.
She’s so fucking pretty.
The leather couch in the living room is large and positioned in front of a television. I wonder what side Maxine sits on whenthey watch movies together and how many blankets she likes to use.
A stop in the kitchen tells me her fridge is almost empty except for some condiments and leftovers, and I frown.
Teachers don’t get paid shit in Florida, and while the salary of entertainment workers at Adventure Oasis is modest compared to other positions, there’s no way Skyler is pulling in a massive paycheck. I don’t like the idea of either of them going hungry, and when I come back, I’m going to make sure the fridge and pantry are fully stocked.
Deeper into the house, I find two doors opposite each other down the long stretch of hallway. I pick the one on the right and pat myself on the back, instantly able to tell the bedroom belongs to Maxine.
Large curtains cover the windows and a bed with a fluffy comforter sits against the wall in the middle of the space. An attached bathroom is off in the corner, and the bookshelf to the left of the window is stacked with books arranged by spine color.
I pick one off the top shelf, curious. Inside are annotations and underlined sections. Notes are scribbled in the margins, and I trace over her handwriting. It’s swoopy, neat, and I bet she’s the kind of teacher who puts smiley faces on her kids’ worksheets.
Her closet shows me folded jeans and t-shirts. The hamper is full of dirty laundry, a rogue sock hanging over the lip of the basket. If it’s full again when I come back, I’m adding it to the list of things I’m going to take care of for her.
I’m great at being domestic.
There’s nothing that stands out to me as being a threat to her in her room. I don’t notice anything belonging to a guy, either. Maxine doesn’t strike me as someone who would cheat on a significant other, and she never mentioned a partner or situationship, but I want to make sure I’m the only man in thepicture. I play well with others on my terms, and two times with Maxine has shown me when it comes to her, I’m the only one allowed to play.
For as many murders as I’ve been involved in, this is my first stalking escapade, and it’s fun as hell. I’m tempted to leave a note to let her know I was here, but I don’t want to give away the fun too easily, so I compromise. I rip off a small piece of scrap paper from the corner of a notebook. I draw a tiny heart in the center then hide the love note in her desk. It’s hidden enough where she’ll wonder who put it there, but not so obvious where she’ll know someone has been here.
I open a dresser drawer, grinning when I find a couple of vibrators tucked under a pair of sleep shorts. They’re gently used, and I’d give just about anything to watch her touch herself with them. My eyes flick over to the bed, picturing her in it: hair across her pillows. Legs spread, a hand teasing across her stomach.
It’s just missing me there by her side to help talk her through it.
My cock swells and I groan, so tempted to jerk myself off. I could do it into a pair of her underwear and bring them with me as a souvenir. Maybe I could take something every time I sneak in, collecting an entire drawer full of pretty lace before she notices what’s gone.
I brush a hand over my tight jeans, willing myself to calm down. Jacking off and leaving drops of my cum behind might push the boundary of total creep behavior, and I don’t want to be a bad house guest on my first of many visits.
Or make her afraid of me.
I peek into the bathroom and sort through her products, making a mental note of her favorite shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, just in case she ever spends the night at my place.
Another lap through the house has me searching the internet for the best interior and exterior home security cameras. Maxine and Skyler are beautiful, young, single women, which history has proven makes them a predator’s favorite target. There are no weapons in the house. No guns, no knives that could cause real damage if they needed to defend themselves, and I know I’ll be back soon to install something—multiple fucking somethings, let’s be honest—so I can keep an eye on them.
I’m a protector. I always have been. When I saw kids getting picked on in school, I was the first one to put the bully in their place. As an adult, I know what happens to people—primarily women—when they don’t have someone in their corner willing to fight for them.
I’ve spent less than an hour with Maxine, and I already know I’d torture anyone who laid a finger on her without her permission and enjoy doing it. I’d never consider a woman to be my property. I’d never fall into the bullshitthey must submit to mealpha male rhetoric, but she’s mine now, which means it’s my responsibility to take care of her.
And take care of her I will.
Satisfied with today’s snooping, I grab my gear and lock the door on my way out. A stroll to the backyard shows me a pool and a garden with tall sunflowers, and I’d like to see Maxine in a pair of overalls. A hat on her head, protecting her from the sun, and her hands in the dirt, planting something new.
The umbrella by the two lounge chairs looks broken, and it takes me ten seconds to fix the loose screw at the base of the stand to make it stop wobbling. Proud of my contributions to keeping her homeowner’s insurance at a minimum, I blow a kiss to the house when I climb back on my motorcycle.
“I’ll be seeing you, Maxine,” I say, fastening my helmet’s chin strap against my neck. “Don’t miss me too much like I’ll miss you until then, beautiful.”
TEN
MAX
“Ugh.I have pumpkin guts all over me.” I laugh and hold up the seeds sticking to the back of my hand. “Disgusting.”
