Page 10 of Shattered
I had always preferred to kill them in their cars. Finding a way to screw with their transportation, then using that as a way to isolate and control them. But Colin had left that woman a bloody mess; it wasn’t just her nose, but her whole damn face that was broken, and seeing her like that had stirred something inside of me. This was a man who thought he owned the world, that he deserved free blow jobs and the enjoyment of beating up someone who was simply trying to make a living. A man like that didn’t deserve another breath.
I knew, in a way, that I wasn’t much different. But I preyed on monsters who thought they ruled the world. The untouchable fucks who never paid for the crimes they committed.
My car came into view, and I hurried my pace. I settled in the front seat. Tan scrubs waited on the passenger side. It was a decent drive to Sage City Medical Center, but it wouldn’t be long. A detour to Ivy Ledge Bridge wasn’t out of the question, but in my state of mind, the last thing I needed was to find another kill.
I grabbed my scrubs and went to the bathroom in the entrance lobby. I nodded at the security guard sitting in the front desk, lifting the badge on my chest, then headed to the emergency department. After I clocked in, I waved to a few staff members, but then I kept to myself. I had developed the reputation of being the maintenance technician who was as quiet as wallpaper.
Most of the people didn’t notice me, but I paid careful attention to what I heard. There were several beds and recliners separated by thin curtains. I had an instinct for picking out which patients worked Ivy Ledge and the neighboring areas. They usually came in pairs, one wounded, and one for support. Most of the time, they wore revealing clothing that smelled of sweat. A ripped jean skirt. A crop top with suspenders. A fishnet dress.
But there was no one out of the ordinary at first. A few were being checked for car accident injuries. A mysterious stomach bug. A broken leg. Chest pain.
The pimps had gone first. Proclaiming protection, yet managing the women through death threats and violence was something I couldn’t swallow. I offered no protection to them, but I did bring justice. And then came the customers. I didn’t care if someone paid for sex, but I did care when they preyed on those they considered weak, when they were nothing but cowards themselves.
I glanced over and saw a small woman in the last recliner. A bright pink halter top on her chest, her hair scraggly, her legs in knee-high socks. Her left eye was swollen shut, bright red and purple as if a stormy sunset had been spilled on her face. Her nose looked flat in the middle. It was likely that she’d need a manual realignment. She might have had a basal fracture.
I did what a doctor couldn’t do for these patients. It wasn’t part of my job to talk to them, but bedside manner from every part of the staff helped the overall decorum. And it helped me to find out more information.
“How’re you doing now?” I asked.
She smiled a sheepish grin and pointed at her face. “I mean, I’m not dead.”
But she could have been killed, if Colin had wanted that.
“You’re not upset?”
She shrugged. “I wish my man could have taken him out, but I don’t think he would have done anything. I’m sure he would’ve told me to give that asshole another blow job.”
Her man,her pimp, would likely have punished her for not having the full amount after failed negotiations.
I found a counter to wipe and moved towards it. “I trust that justice will be served.”
A dreamy look crossed the woman’s eyes. “Maybe the Angel will do something about it.” She lifted her shoulders. “That’s what they’re calling him, you know. The Angel. I mean, us girls already called him that, but now that the news is calling him that too.”
An angel of death. A bringer of retribution. The Pros’ Angel. I had heard the name before.
“I’m sure he’s watching after you,” I said.
“I know he is,” she said. She squeezed her hands together. “It might not be tonight, but maybe someday. And then I’ll get to thank him, you know? Someday.”
The rest of my shift, I kept an eye on the woman until she was discharged. Once she was gone, I listened carefully but heard nothing of importance. It was better that way; I needed time to think. To reevaluate how the hell tonight had gone so damn wrong. I had run into Melissa Foley, of all people, when I wasn’t expecting it.
It’s almost as if she was the one searching for me.
Her red hair against the white pillow. Her vacant eyes reflecting mine.
The situation with Melissa needed to be figured out before I could move forward with my plans. I needed to dissect her, to figure out how to pin the murders on her. Her roommate situation happened to be good for me, but for now, I needed to think carefully. And I needed to stop killing for a while, at least until I recovered my senses. It wasn’t a mistake I could let slide again.
I ruled by careful calculation. But impulse dictated that the quickest way to dissect Melissa was to get closer to her. A break from killing, but a move forward in my project in control over her. That, I could do.
