Page 21 of The Silent Night Stalker
“Still, they didn’t suspect you?”
“Yeah… but I convinced them I hadn’t been home. I even went to the store afterward and had the receipt. Maybe they watched me for a while, but I was really good for a long time. I didn’t do anything wrong. I got a job and everything.”
He finally sits up, and his face is covered in tears and snot mingled with blood since he can’t wipe them away.
I stand, grab some tissues from the box sitting on my dresser, and gently wipe his bloodied face and nose. He looks at me so earnestly and with wonder. I doubt anyone’s ever been truly kind to him before, and I’m not sure why I fucking care. I should put him out of his misery, but Alfonzo’s right. I’m not a killer.
“I knew you were an angel,” he whispers.
“No, I’m a criminal.”
“It doesn’t matter. We aren’t born bad. I know a good person when I see one.”
I scoff and raise a brow at him. “Like you knew I was suffering and needed to die?”
He nods thoughtfully. “I clearly messed that one up. I’m going to pay for that for the rest of the year… or for the rest of my life.”
When I finish wiping Constantine’s face, he raises his knees and rests his head on them. “I don’t know what to do now.” Then he looks up at me again. “You know what’s weird?”
Weird? Other than him trying to kill me, then sobbing on my floor and having me feel sorry for the fucking bastard? Not to mention he’s a damn serial killer? Does it really get any weirder? But I don’t say any of that. “What’s that?”
“Talking to you. You’re the first person I’ve ever told my story to. And you’re the only one in the world who knows me. Therealme. While it’s scary to tell you, I’m not falling either. Like, I’m not crashing. Not like earlier when you fell from my drug. The anxiety consumed me then, and when you handcuffed me. But now? Yeah, you’re definitely an angel.”
I stood, paced, and growled at him. “I fucking sell guns! I’m part of a cartel! So, no, I’m not a damn angel!”
“You’re wrong.”
I sit back down, rest my head against the dresser, stare up at the ceiling, and sigh. I have no idea what to do with this nut.
He rests his head back on his knees. “What do I do now?” he repeats. “This has never happened before. What about the rest of the year?”
“You only kill on Christmas Eve?”
He looks up at me, the rage clear on his face, and snaps, “Isavepeople!” Damn, his moods shift faster than I can blink.
I raise my hands and nod.Phew, we’re touchy on this serial killer, murderer thing, I note to myself. “Okay, okay… calm down. You onlysaveon Christmas Eve?”
He visibly relaxes, and I have fucking whiplash. “Yes.”
“Why take their skin? Is it some sort of…” I shy away from using the word ‘trophy.’ I have a feeling that will set him off, too. I’m sure his stepfather did something similar. I don’t think Constantine realizes the connection there, or maybe he does, and that’s why he’s so defensive about it. He’s literally become what he hates and justifies itby calling it ‘saving.’ No, not justifying it. He truly believes he’s doing good work, or he’s convinced himself of that.
“To show they’re loved,” he says simply.
I don’t tell him he might have made a mistake with them, as he did with me. Sure, people get depressed over the holidays, and many do commit suicide, but I seriously can’t imagine they’d want this guy to break into their home, drug them, and tell them they’re loved before he kills them.
God, what the fuck have I gotten myself into? I can’t exactly turn him in to the cops, being a criminal myself. I can’t have them digging into my life and past. The last thing I need is to wind up in jail, especially before I find out who killed Enrique. But part of me knows this dude needs to be in prison or a hospital at the bare minimum.
I stand again, shove my gun back into the drawer, and pace.
Think, think, think… What to do? What to do?
Maybe Alfonzo could use someone like him, give Constantine direction or something. No, I’m not sure Constantine will go for that. He believes, in his demented way, that he’s the good guy in all this. And Alfonzo will probably just put a bullet in Constantine’s head if he learns he’s the serial killer everyone’s been hunting.
Whatever I decide, it needs to be soon.
Chapter 9
Constantine
