The first year of mine was spent mourning for my family and suffering from all the trauma. I cried until there was nothing but sand left to fall from my eyes. I curled into a ball and show
ered three times a day, never feeling clean.
The second year was spent being angry and seeking outlets. I took on kickboxing first. By the third year, I’d moved on to various other forms of mixed martial arts. Several black belts are mine now.
I never want to be anyone else’s victim.
The fourth year was spent getting stronger, dealing with all my fears, and learning to stand on my own without all the sleepless nights.
The fifth year was the first time I could withstand any physical contact. I learned to grow. I learned not to flinch away when someone barely touched me. I learned to be as normal as I could be.
The sixth year was when I could finally handle intimacy without wanting to kill the person touching me. It was the year I decided I was no longer their victim. It was the year I took back control over my life and embraced my future before it was destroyed completely.
The seventh year was when I decided to get revenge. The planning began.
The eighth year was when I started locating them all. I learned all there was to know about them.
The ninth year was spent hacking the case files from my father’s trial, learning all the police had, searching for the truth instead of the lies.
The tenth year… The tenth year is when I decided to start killing one a month.
Jake convinced me to be cautious. I’d hate to be caught before I can finish.
My life will happen in between kills. I can have both. Because I doubt I’ll make it out of this alive.
Denise decides to text Tyler back, breaking me out of my reverie, and it’s a picture of her in a lace nightie. Unreal. If this is how you’re supposed to date, then I really am out of my depth. I’m not spending thirty minutes slipping into something like that just for a picture.
My phone buzzes as Tyler and Denise send dirty texts to each other. Those dirty texts will find their way to his wife if needed. She sure as hell can’t be home when I collect his debt.
My actual phone rings, and I reach over and grab it absently, still reading the latest sick text from Tyler. How does Denise find this sexy?
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me,” Jake says, clicking away in the background. He’s always at the computer, lining everything up for me. Best partner ever.
“What’re you doing?” I ask, curious.
“Just finished writing Olivia her check, and now I’m working on our website.”
“Are you reading this?” I ask him, wrinkling my nose when Denise describes a blowjob in detail for him.
“Unfortunately. What are you doing tonight? I was thinking we’d grab a bite and watch surveillance together. I’ve already gotten his entry code. You’re getting better angles with the cameras with each install.”
Idly, I lift my gaze to the monitor, watching as Tyler starts lowering his boxers. Yeah, no. I don’t need to see that.
Cutting my eyes away, I answer, “I learn more with each one. His wife is gone a lot on business. There’s a conference two days before the planned kill day. She’ll be gone all weekend. I can strike then. He’s a two and done deal.”
“Don’t get cocky and strike too soon. When you lose your caution, mistakes happen, and you’ll get arrested.”
“True. There’s a conference the weekend after. I can always prolong the date as well.”
“That’s better than moving it up, but it’s best to stick to a consistent schedule if possible. That way you don’t lose focus.”
Snorting derisively, I roll my eyes. “No worries on that. My focus can’t be derailed.”
Their taunts no longer haunt me at night. Now I dream peacefully to the sounds of their screams.
Which I realize is probably psychotic, but I wasn’t born this way. They turned me into this. Karma wasn’t finding them. Neither was justice. Destiny seemed content with leaving them on their perfect little paths of love, peace, and blissfulness.