1
Julian
There are days when the urge to hurt, to kill, is too strong to be denied. Days when the thin cloak of civilization threatens to slip at the least provocation, revealing the monster inside.
Today is not one of those days.
Today I have her with me.
We’re in the car on the way to the airport. She’s sitting pressed against my side, her slim arms wrapped around me and her face buried in the crook of my neck.
Cradling her with one arm, I stroke her dark hair, delighting in its silky texture. It’s long now, reaching all the way down to her narrow waist. She hasn’t cut her hair in nineteen months.
Not since I kidnapped her for the first time.
Inhaling, I draw in her scent—light and flowery, deliciously feminine. It’s a combination of some shampoo and her unique body chemistry, an
