Page 11 of The Silent Night Stalker
What does that mean?
I suddenly want to make him mine, but I can’t. It would be selfish of me to let him linger in his pain just for myself. He wants relief. Like Eric, I must save them no matter how lonely I am.
Yes, he’s the one. Definitely.
He’s the one I’m going to set free on Christmas Eve. He’s the one I’m going to save.
The relief that washes over me is something I can practically taste, if relief even has a taste. I’ve finally found someone. Now I can breathe again.
My glasses slip off my nose, and when I shove them back up with a finger, the man looks at me again. I quickly look away and hide behind my beer bottle as I take a sip.
Ugh! He’s noticing me too much. I can’t let him recognize me. It’s time to leave. Well, at least the bar. I need to follow him to see where he lives. There’s no way I’m going to let him slip from my grasp. He’s definitely the one.
I drop a few bucks on the counter and smile shyly at the bartender, desperately trying not to look over to the other man. Soon, I’ll be his salvation—his guardian angel sent to bring him to heaven.
After I shrug on my coat and wrap my scarf around my neck, I head outside, hit with a blast of freezing air. It’s going to be cold waiting for him, but it’ll all be worth it.He’sworth it.
There aren’t many people walking outside, so I tuck myself into an alley next to the bar where it’s dark and wait.
The next step is to find out where he lives, who he is, what his hobbies are, and where he works. Anything that brings me closer to him. The more I familiarize myself with him, the better my chances of success. It not only protects me from the police, but from those I’ve been chosen to save. They don’t always understand that I’m there to help them. At first, they’re always scared, but eventually, they figure it out.
And I cannot deviate. Deviating will bring me bad luck. I must stick with the plan and the process. It doesn’t matter if I’m instantlyattracted to the dark-haired man. My needs always have to be put aside.
Perhaps I should find someone else. Being attracted to him already puts me at risk.
No! He’s absolutely perfect. Heneedsme. But I need to hurry. The clock is ticking.
Since I don’t want to risk being seen by either the light from my watch or phone, who knows how long I’ve been sitting out here, waiting. It must be over an hour. My cold hands are shoved into my coat pockets, and I shiver as the cold penetrates the layers.
I need to be patient. I can’t rush this, no matter how uncomfortable I am.
The muffled music suddenly gets louder as someone steps outside the bar. I peek around the edge of the building, and my heart stops when I see him, the beautiful man who will soon meet his angel and eventually be greeted in heaven.
God, my heart is racing, and I hold my breath as he walks by, hunched over with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, not seeing me.
As soon as he passes, I let go of my lungs and exhale in a long, foggy stream of air.
I wait a beat before following him.Please don’t drive. Please don’t drive, I recite in my head. I have no way of checking license plates. If he walks home or takes the train, then it’ll be easy to stay close to him.
The man sways and wobbles a bit before righting himself, clearly drunk. Good. The drunker he is, the less likely he’ll notice me. Still, I’malwayscareful.
Every once in a while, I hide myself around a corner or alley whenever he stops for a moment. The next time he pauses, he rests a hand on the brick building, bends over, and barfs up all that he had todrink. Then, he rests his head on the bricks as a sob escapes him before choking it back. After he coughs and wipes his mouth with the back of a hand, he groans and walks on again.
Poor guy.
“Soon, sweet angel. Soon,” I whisper under my breath.
Chapter 5
Constantine
Myangel’shouseseemsfurther when you’re stumbling home drunk. It takes forever to walk the two miles, especially when he throws up once more before walking on again. At one point, he stops, leans against a building, and bends over as if getting blood to his head. I think I hear some more crying. It would be nothing to put him out of his misery right now. Despite his being bigger than me, I could do it, but planning needs to be precise. Plus, I don’t have my drugs on me to subdue him. I can’t afford to mess it up. The last thing I want or need is to get arrested and thrown in prison. Confinement like that would kill me after practically being a prisoner for most of my life.
As the evening gets late, it grows colder. I’m shivering even more, and my teeth are chattering by the time we reach his little house. It’s similar to my house, which is small and nestled closely between other homes. But his is one-story, whereas mine is two. The yard is about as small as mine. Angel has the brick painted dark red, and the trim is white. Unlike me, he takes care of his home and yard. Even in the winter, the landscaping is neat. His house is loved, while mine isn’t. I don’t know what I’ll do once my house finally falls to the ground. It’s not like I can afford a new one.
I hide between two houses across the street and observe him while I take note of the street name and house number.
He steps through the chain-link fence and nearly trips up the steps to the front door before falling on his knees. I can hear him cursing from here. When he manages to stand, he fumbles with the lock before he finally gets the door open.
