Page 27 of Dark Torment

“You really want her?” Olivia asks, her voice hopeful.

“I really do,” I tell her confidently.

If it’s the dog she’s in love with, then it’s the dog I want. Anything to make her happy.

“Thank you.” She sniffles.

I know it’s happy tears, but I don’t like it. Anything that makes her cry makes me murderous.

“Thankyoufor helping me.” I take the forms she hands me and move to the door, giving her one last look as I open it. “I’ll see you soon, Olivia.”

* * *

When I started looking further into Ben, I was pleased to find out he often went to my best friend’s strip club.

Out of everyone on this planet, he is the only person who knows about my darkness. He’s the one I went to after strangling that woman in the park. When I told him about everything, he didn’t judge me.

I knew he wouldn’t because he has some less than legal activities of his own that he likes to partake in.

Devlin Thomas is a professional stalker. Everything I’ve learned about stalking my kills before I attack, I’ve learned from him.

He taught me everything I now use to keep a watchful eye on my Olivia, and I’ve taught him how to kill and get away with it should the need ever arise.

I doubt it will, though. He’s much more of a watcher than a killer. Once he’s learned everything about his current love interest and has wooed them, he quickly gets bored and moves on. No one the wiser to his stalker behaviours.

My phone pings, drawing me back to the moment, and I smile.

Devlin:

Ready.

That means it’s go time.

It doesn’t take long for me to get through security. They know me here.

It’s not that I come to places like this for pleasure, but I often come to have drinks with Dev and catch up.

I walk straight into his office without even knocking, and roll my eyes when I see one of his strippers climb off his lap and scurry out the door.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He smirks at me.

“Between scenery?” I ask.

I hate referring to women as anything other than women, but we need to talk in code around here. You never know where ears may be listening.

“You could say that.” He lets out a sigh.

I raise an eyebrow at him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this before. Except maybe when we were eleven, and he had a thing for his seventeen-year-old neighbour who didn’t know the meaning of letting a kid down gently.

Oh shit. “No. This is not going to be another Brittany debacle.” I point at him.

“It’s not the same, man. And fuck you for bringing that shit up,” he snarks, and I laugh.

“Then what the fuck’s got you all bent out of shape?”

“I just hired a chick, and she’s the hottest and craziest bitch I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, and your point?”

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