Page 65 of Shattered
I hated him.
“I’ve known her for so long and she’s always making jokes about sucking my dick. Little tease. Never actually commits,” Jake scoffed. “The bitch was begging for it.”
“And you’re afraid that they—” I gestured at the police station behind us, the brick walls, no doubt impressive to someone like Jake, a person with an actual use for guilt, “—will somehow connect that to the serial killer’s deaths, and to you?” I shook my head. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“Her ex was murdered, man!” he cried. “The man wasmurdered. Beat to a pulp. I’m not a murderer, man. I would never do that.” He said it with conviction, as if his avoidance of this one sin would free him from his crimes. As if that was the only crime that mattered. “You’ve gotta help me, man. I can’t go to jail. Not again.”
I looked down at the grass by our feet, as if pondering about how to relieve him of his predicament.Jail again? That was amusing. I wanted to tell him that he would get what was coming to him. That this was the exact kind of motivation the Angel needed to strangle him to death.
The kind of reason I would love to steal his last breath.
But I made a different move. “You need to quit the Dahlia District,” I said. “Leave it behind. If you stay any longer, they’ll know.”
“But the Adler family—”
“The Adler family won’t be able to help you,” I said. “They’re powerful, but they’re not your escape. You need to leave before the police connect you to more cases.”
Jake nodded, tears welling in his eyes. He knew, then, that what he did was wrong. Or perhaps it was pure fear. The flight to survive.
“I’ve gotta say goodbye to Mel—”
“You need to go,” I said. “Now.”
I relied on the fact that Jake would be so frantic that he wouldn’t think about what I was telling him. That quitting his job would be suspicious, and leaving town would be a downright admission. Jake wasn’t empty-headed, but he wasn’t on top of it either. He hadn’t had to be on top of anything for his entire life. And now, when he needed it, his crimes were catching up to him.
One way or another, Jake would get what was coming to him. I had faith in that. He would die by my hands or rot in prison, but hewouldpay for what he had done to countless women. To Melissa. For not regarding their lives as meaningful as his own. For treating them as less than worthy. I would personally make sure of it.
But was I doing this for myself, or for Melissa?
I suppose it didn’t matter.
