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He rubbed his gloved hand over his crotch as that familiar urgency hummed through him. It happened whenever he thought of her. Lately, it seemed that was much too often. Crouching behind a cluster of bushes, he breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw the woman's kitchen light finally turn off. The icy wind whipping up over the ocean bit through his coat with no mercy, but tonight was the night he'd been waiting for.
The old lady's boyfriend didn't come over on Thursdays and this might be his only chance. After so many years of waiting, everything was finally falling into place. Stupid woman rarely ever set her house alarm and he knew tonight would be no different.
He propped his bat against the side of the house and slid the key into the back door. The sound of the door opening and closing wasn't audible above the crashing of the waves nearby.
Overhead, he could hear water running. No doubt the old woman was getting ready for bed. Smiling, he took off his jacket and draped it across the kitchen table. Taking his time, he crossed the tile floor and walked up the stairs. The carpet runner muted his movements.
Soon, he'd see horror etched on her wrinkly face. Right before he struck her, she'd scream. Maybe beg for her life. If he let her live that long.
No. He inwardly cursed himself. This had to be clean. Look like an accident. Killing this bitch was the only way to ensure he got what he wanted. That she would return to Hudson Bay. And he wanted her guard down when she got here. At least at first. Then the game playing would begin.
The floor creaked underneath him as he reached the top stair. As he did, the old woman's door opened and light flooded the hallway. Moving quickly, he ducked into the closest guestroom.
His heart pounded wildly against his ribcage as her footsteps moved closer, but his hands were steady. This was it. Gripping the bat tighter in his hands, he readied himself. If he fucked this up, he might not get another chance.
When her shadow passed by the door, he stepped out. "Hello, Debra. So nice to see you again." Even to himself he sounded feral. Inhuman.
She swiveled toward him. Her emerald green eyes—so similar to Lilly's—widened with recognition and fear. He drank in her terror. She opened her mouth to scream but he wouldn't give her the chance.
Without pause, he swung his bat.
Hard.
The cracking of her skull reverberated off the walls of the quiet beach cottage. A second, louder thud shook him straight to his bones as her head hit the railing. Her old, frail body tumbled until it sprawled at the bottom of the stairs. Surprisingly, the blood was minimal. A small, cherry-red rivulet snaked around her head. His gut tightened as the fresh air turned it into a dark crimson. The familiar rush of power nearly overwhelmed him.
The fear of getting caught told him to leave, but he couldn't help himself. Need burned low in his belly. His erection pressed painfully against the zipper of his pants. All the windows were drawn and he was upstairs. No one could see him.
He quickly unzipped his pants, but kept his leather gloves on as he fisted himself. Staring at Debra's lifeless eyes, he stroked himself.
Lilly's face swam before him. The feel of the smooth leather was pleasurable, but he was counting down the minutes until he buried himself in Lilly. He'd been waiting too long to get her beneath him and the time was finally right.
