Page 24 of Crawl
Her eyes are heavy with sleep. Purple and green bruises spread across her tawny skin, like a galaxy engraved in her flesh. She’s one step closer, completely exhausted, too tired to fight me. And soon, I’ll make her beg for my come. She’ll take the blame for my crimes willingly. All I need to do is keep manipulating her like this.
And once she’s mine, she’ll fall.
CHAPTER 6
Cash
The next night, I park my car down the road, far enough away so that she can’t immediately tell that it’s me, but close enough that I can watch her. Her matte red car—the shiny exterior stripped off—is on the street, and her window is lit up around the blinds. She’s awake. What’s she doing?
Most of the time, I keep to myself for as long as possible, sometimes even waiting until the police find the bodies before moving on to the next. Criminal justice experts preach about ‘patterns’ that people like me have, which is exactly what I use against them. The tie holding my victims together is that they’re all in Key West, and they’re left in the crawl spaces. They don’t have anything else in common.
A silhouette hovers behind her blinds. I run my palm over my dick, tenting in my trousers, thinking of her wet, succulent mouth, her pink and purple lips. I’d be in Remedy’s wall cavities or watching her on her webcam, but I need to hold back. A situation like this takes time. But the itch to control someone in their final moments keeps getting stronger, and the longer I wait, the more I burn to play with Remedy. And Ineedto give her time. She’s consuming me, and I can’t let that happen.
I glance at my phone. If she wants to play, then I’ll skip a kill tonight. But if she’s occupied, then I’ll give her a break.26 Missed Callsblinks in red at the top of my phone, the general contractor’s name for each call. When is he going to realize that I’m not interested in working on that house anymore?
No calls or texts from Remedy.
I push the button to start the engine, then stare at her bedroom window.
It’s your fault, little cure. Someone has to die because you don’t want to play.
I put on my gloves, the leather crunching as I flex my fingers. I should be killing anyway. Remedy’s schedule doesn’t matter to me.
A muscle man in a tank top with a bright gold spray tan turns the corner, heading toward Duval Street. He swaggers with each step, like he deserves the street to himself, like he doesn’t give a damn that there’s a killer on the loose. One of my foster fathers walked like that.
By ten years old, I knew what to expect. It was my sixth home, and when it came to this particular family, if the biological kids screwed up, the father took it out on me.
You think my wife’s food is shit?he had asked. I hadn’t said that—in fact, I hadn’t said a single word in that house yet—so I glared back, refusing to take my eyes off of him. He wasn’t the first foster parent to lay a hand on me, and he wouldn’t be the last. But this was a lucky night. This time, they actually invited me to sit with them.
My stomach twisted in pain, but I refused to take a bite. I wouldn’t back down from his gaze. That would show weakness, and I’m not weak.
You ungrateful son of a bitch,he said. He tossed my plate, the casserole splattering on the floor like vomit outside of a dive bar.You’ll eat like a dog.
One of the biological children giggled at the word ‘dog,’ a nervous lilt to her voice. But still, I didn’t move, and when the foster mother said,Chris,trying gently to get her husband’s attention, my foster father backhanded me so hard that I fell to the floor. My head spun and bile crept up my throat, but I sat upright, crossing my legs, then met his eyes again, my vision blurring.
You got anything to say?he asked.
Everyone was silent as he stood up, looming over me. The worst thing was the silence. They all hated that, and I used it like a weapon, driving them mad. Keeping my expression blank. Never letting them in on what was going on inside. With each step, he swaggered forward like his muscles were too big for his body. Like he knew exactly how much sway he had.
I could have said anything. That I hated him more than I hated my biological parents. That his parents must have hated him more than I did. That there were more important things to do than to talk to an idiot with the IQ of a potato.
But instead, I smiled, pretending like nothing mattered. That facial expression spoke the words for me.
And that’s when he knocked me out.
On the street, the muscle man sways to each side, his shoulders too big for his body. He must take steroids like my foster father did. And for a moment, I wonder if this muscle man has any kids. Biological. Foster. Adopted. But that isn’t my concern.
All people are fucked up. I don’t need proof to kill someone.Everyoneis fair game. Even Remedy.
I follow behind him, keeping my feet in time with his footsteps. By the time his head twists to the side, realizing someone is shadowing him, I swing an arm around his neck, a firm palm on his mouth, pulling him inside of one of my empty vacation rentals.
He drops to the floor, coughing and red, then reaches for his holster. But I hold up his gun and phone, letting my lips spread wide, baring my teeth. I roll up my sleeves, the veins in my arms twitching, itching for his last breath of life. I leave his gun on the small table beside me. He studies me, trying to judge my actions, but when he propels himself forward, reaching for the weapon, I grab it first and ram the back of it into his nose. The cartilage crunches like wet sand and he wails, holding his face, rolling on the ground like a baby.
“What do you want, man?” he asks. He reaches into his pocket, throwing his wallet at me. “Take it. It’s all I’ve got.” Keeping the gun aimed at him, out of curiosity, I pick up the wallet. This isn’t about money, but I’m not the kind of man to leave cash on the table. I put the wad into my pocket, then check his license.
Donny Kent.Twenty-seven years old. Lives on Queen Street, only a few blocks away from my estate. Apparently, he’s well off. A little prick that lives off of his parents’ paychecks.
He could be anyone. I don’t care. I simply need what a living body can give me.
