Chapter Eight
He’d clutched them tightly in his palm, not wanting to
lose any on the way home. He bunched a few together and raised them to his
nose, sniffing them. He rolled them between his fingers. Goosebumps popped up
on his arms as he remembered how he’d pulled her taut, then slid the blade of
his knife across her, releasing his treasures. He sniffed them one more time
before dropping them. Black pubic hair fluttered without a sound, littering the
bottom of the box. Another souvenir to add to his growing collection. He
labeled it, opened his medicine cabinet, and set it on the shelf with the
others. He looked at himself in the mirror.
Blowing a kiss, he said, “Soon, Greyson, soon.”
****
A reporter and cameraman darted past Greyson as she was
talking to Paul. Erin Green wa
