My house is empty, quiet, and somewhat eerie, considering the case I’m working on. All the victims are a reflection of myself. Single. Alone. Physically fit. Living in a secluded area. Workaholics.
My closest neighbor is a mile down the road.
No one notices the victims missing for days on end. They all call into work. It’s a taped recording of a man’s voice, from what we can surmise, considering the words are exactly the same. None of the businesses record those calls, obviously, so we’re having to trust the person who received the call.
The last body was only found because one of his work colleagues came to find out why he didn’t come to work on the fourth day and never called in for that day.
It’s depressing to know that no one outside of work notices them missing. The same would hold true for myself.
My eyes scan my house out of habit, looking for anything out of place. Once I feel confident nothing has been disturbed, I take off my gun, set my alarm, and then I drop to the bed.
My eyes close, and I expect to see the images of dead bodies like I always do.
Instead, I’m lost in a set of haunted green eyes I’ll be seeing later.
Chapter 3
When you are courting a nice girl, an hour seems like a second. When you sit on a red-hot cinder, a second seems like an hour. That’s relativity.
—Albert Einstein
LANA
It’s after five when I start looking at my watch, wondering if I really am being stood up this time. I’m not sure what compelled me to call him, flirt with him, then agree to a date. Maybe it’s because I need to feel less like a cold monster and more like a woman.
I lived. Others died.
I lived, yet I feel dead.
Maybe I want to feel alive, considering my time may be limited. I should treasure every moment…when I’m not collecting on an overdue debt. It’s not exactly romantic to think of a guy while you’re slicing another one to pieces, but Logan was definitely on my mind during the three days I spent reaping the debt from Ben.
Not in the dark recesses of my mind that are reserved for revenge either. No. Logan was in the good parts that I thought no longer existed. He awakened a long-gone light as though not all the good inside me had been destroyed.
Just as I’m about to text him and find out if he’s okay, there’s suddenly a body sliding into the seat in front of me, and my eyes pop up to meet a set of soft blues. I could stare at those eyes all day. The rest of him measures up to those perfect eyes too.
He’s sin and pleasure wrapped in a package I’m tempted to peek at.
“So sorry,” he groans, motioning a waitress over. “There was a traffic jam. I actually had to abuse my power and hit the lights just to get through.”
My smile surprises me every time he makes me use it. “It’s fine. I was just worried,” I lie, well, sort of. I was worried about him, and I was worried I’d been stood up.
His grin is genuine and instant when he sees I’m not pissed, and the waitress shows up, ending the moment of two idiots grinning at each other.
I honestly can’t remember a time when my stomach was fluttering around. I was just a teenager when my life was shattered and the illusion of normality forever stayed out of my grasp.
This is the most human I’ve felt in so long. And it’s just a coffee drive-by on his way to work.
We both order, and the waitress walks away after giving him a quick once over and winking at me as though she approves. Not that I need her approval.
“So, what made you agree to meet me?” he asks, apparently skipping small talk. I guess that’s wise, since our time will be limited. Not to mention he interrogates for a living, so it’s only natural to start a date out that way with him.
I decide against telling him that he makes me feel like a woman instead of the monster I’ve had to become, since he’d sort of lock me up and throw away the key.
“What made you want to ask me out?” I ask him instead.
His grin spreads wider. “You’re deflecting, but I’ll bite. You’ve been in my head. Your turn,” he says, leaning up on the table with his elbows.
“You’ve been in my head too.”