Page 8 of His

So many promises, this one.

“Let me go, and I’ll give you anything. As much money as you want.” His voice was whining, needy.

I gestured around me with my knife.

“You’ve seen my house,” I said. “Do you think I need money?”

“What do you want, then? Please. Please! I’ll give you anything.”

I couldn’t wait to cut out his tongue. Maybe in a few days. I poured water over his face and he drank it, lapped it up greedily like a dog. A thought was nagging me at the back of my head. Something I had forgotten. But no, I hadn’t forgotten anything. There were no tracks for anyone to follow.

The young woman at the library, the one who kissed me, came floating into mind. I pushed the thought away. Maybe I would go back and return the book, retrace my tracks, make sure I hadn’t missed anything. What could I have missed? Still, the nagging thought at the back of my brain kept itching. The shadow darkened my vision and brought me back to my world, to the dead man who did not know he was dead lying on my kitchen table.

“Please,” he continued. “What can I do? What do you want from me?”

“Right now?” I raised my eyebrows. “Right now, I want you to suffer.”

“Suff-” his words cut off as I came towards him again with the knife. “No, please. Oh god, please, no!”

“Scream,” I whispered, bringing my knife down to his cheek.

He obliged.

CHAPTER THREE

Kat

It was a few days more before the man came back to the library, fifteen minutes before closing. Not the mustache man—Jules was right about that, he was gone for good, probably murdered—but the handsome one. The one I’d kissed. The dark-haired, light-eyed Fabio.

Boring old me stayed away. I didn’t want to scare him off. This was the only time he’d been back since the first time I’d seen him, when I’d kissed him. And as strict as Sheryl was about helping library patrons, I thought that I would be more help not scaring him out of the library again with a random kiss.

I stayed in the kids’ section and shelved picture books, watching as he went up into the stacks and dreaming about all of the dark, terrible, wonderful things he could do to me if he had me in bed. Then he came back down and started to head out of the library. .

My hand reached back into my jeans pocket. I hadn’t done laundry in two weeks, and the slip of paper was still stuffed into my back pocket. I pulled it out and looked at it. Random numbers and letters. But it was something to start a conversation about. I could talk to him.

“Hey, you dropped this last time you were here. So what’s important about this code, anyway?”

I didn’t know why I was so hell-bent on talking to him again, anyway. If anyone asked, I would probably tell them it was Jules breaking my balls, calling me boring every two minutes and asking me if I’d ever kiss a boy again. I wasn’t boring, dammit!

But the real reason I clocked out early and scooted after him?

I wanted to kiss him again.

I wanted to feel that passion.

I wanted to know if his mind was as dark as mine.

In the parking lot, I saw him get into a silver Kia sedan. A boring car, Jules would say. He was too far away to run after, and I thought about giving up and going back inside. Finishing up the picture books section. He probably didn’t need the slip of paper, anyway.

But then I changed my mind. The kids’ books could wait. What if the paper I had from him was super important? What if he was a secret agent and the paper I had was a secret code? And—bigger question—what if he kissed me again?So I hopped into my black Honda Civic, possibly the only car more boring than a silver Kia, and drove off after him.

I’d seen enough cop shows to know how to tail someone. Stay behind, but not too far behind. Don’t let traffic lights get between you. Have a boring car. Check! It also helped that the car between us was full of five college frat boys hanging out the windows and blasting music. If he ever looked in his rearview mirror, all he would see wasAnimal Houseon wheels.

A rush of excitement went through me as I followed him. I was off work, and instead of going out to bars, I was chasing a sexy guy who might even be a secret agent! There was no way Jules could call me boring after this. Okay, so he probably wasn’t a secret agent. But at least I could pretend he was for now.

I crawled behind him from light to light, and he never noticed me. I supposed that this might be a good career for an average-looking girl with an average-looking figure. Men never noticed me: I would make a great undercover cop. I made a mental note to ask the career counselor about it.

Soon, he turned off of the main street and headed out of town. I lagged behind; there weren’t any intersections on this road. He kept driving, and more than once I thought that I was crazy to keep following him.

---