Her Last Day (Jessie Cole #1)(24)

He’d killed a cow and a dog, hoping the act of killing a living creature would help him release his never-ending frustration and hatred for life and people. Unfortunately the urge to harm others only grew from there, especially when he’d realized a lot of his hostility stemmed from Sue Sterling’s visit.

It hadn’t been too late. She could have saved him.

She’d seen.

She’d known.

And yet she’d done nothing.

The first human he’d killed was a homeless man. It had all happened in a blur. He’d snuck up behind the old man, leaned over his shoulder, and stabbed him in the chest. It was over in the blink of an eye. So he’d ripped out his heart in hopes that he would feel something more.

But it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop.

His next victim had been a hooker. She’d told him to call her Sugar. And that was what he’d done.

Without any prompting, she’d stripped off her clothes. She couldn’t understand why he didn’t jump her bones—then she’d seen the knife in his hand. That was when she’d panicked. Sugar had started talking real fast, every word tumbling over the next. Her eyes had become overly bright, and she began to shake, even peed right where she stood. Peed like a horse. He should know, since he’d grown up on a farm.

Sugar didn’t run. Instead she froze in terror.

And he was fascinated.

For the first time in his life, he understood what fear did to people, and what his father must have felt every time he tortured him or his mother. Being in control of another human being gave him a high he’d never experienced before.

He was the Wizard of Oz, a force to be reckoned with.

He was all-powerful.

He had told her not to worry, calling her Sugar as he tied her to a tree. And he’d listened to her ramble on about all the reasons he should let her go as he used his knife to sharpen a couple of sticks that would be used to poke and prod.

Every time he’d given her hope by telling her he’d let her go when he was finished with her, she would relax. He’d told her to do all sorts of things, like dance and sing, and poke herself in the eye. She had done anything and everything he asked her to do, and his pulse quickened every time she obeyed.

But not in a sexual way. He didn’t feel those kinds of things. Never had. He had no desire to touch a woman, let alone another human being. What he’d always wanted was to feel something other than anger. And for the first time in his life, he did.

Sugar had grown tired of his games, so he’d untied her. He knew she’d run, but he’d never expected her to be so fast after everything she’d been through. It hadn’t been easy catching up to her. When he’d had her on the ground again, she’d kicked and clawed, bit down hard on his wrist. He still had the scar. She was a fighter, but she was no match for him. He’d easily taken control again, tied her to the tree, and began to remove her heart, slowly and methodically, while she screamed and spit fire. That time he’d been able to watch the pulsing, pounding organ as he felt his own heart beat within. It was magical.

Sugar was special. The one who made him recognize that control was power, and power was everything.

He’d found his passion.

So he’d moved back home and showed his father who was boss. Then he’d forced him to sell most of the farmland so that they would own the house, the barn, and ten acres of land, free and clear, allowing him to work from home and do what he loved best.

Natalie reached up and removed two cups and saucers from the cupboard, pulling him out of his reverie. A few minutes later, the lights went out, and he could no longer see Natalie through the kitchen window.

They would drink their tea while they read in bed.

He’d hidden in their house before. Spent more than one night huddled inside the attic, listening to them through the vents. He’d been watching Mike and Natalie for so long, he felt as if he knew them.

He shimmied down the trunk and jumped to the ground, then stood still, overcome with excitement. In a few hours, it would be time to introduce himself to Natalie Bailey.





FOURTEEN

Jessie awoke to the sound of a barking dog.

Even then it took her a moment to remember Higgins.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Olivia’s cat, Cecil, sitting on the dresser straight ahead, staring at her with his one gold-speckled eye. “How did you get in here?”

Cecil meowed.

She threw off the covers, climbed out of bed, and walked into the main room, where she could see Olivia in the kitchen making a bag lunch for school.

“Good morning,” she said to Olivia as she watched the dog use his three good legs to scoot across the wood floor. Cecil had followed her from the bedroom. His long tail brushed across her calf before he jumped on top of the couch and stared the dog down. Higgins was too focused on Olivia to notice.

“Morning,” Olivia said. “I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up.”

“You should have woke me.”

“Bella is picking me up. And I knew you needed sleep after spending the night in jail.”

“Thanks,” Jessie said with a roll of her eyes, knowing she would never live it down.

Olivia scrunched up her nose. “I never asked you about being in jail. Was it horrible?”

“It smelled like body odor and bleach. I’ll leave it at that.” Jessie scratched her head as she focused her attention on the dog. “Is Higgins hungry?”