Chapter 21

Trigger warning: This part contains explicit descriptions of murder, rape and/or torture, which may be disturbing or triggering for some readers.

October 18th

It shouldn’t have happened the way it did. She should’ve been the thirteenth. Lucky number thirteen.

What a joke.

Turns out she’s the one with all the luck.

Looking back on it now, I can see all the things that went wrong. All the mistakes that were made. Stupid mistakes.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Someone of my intelligence—and by now, experience—just doesn’t make stupid mistakes like the ones that were made with this girl. Which means that the fault lay elsewhere. Forces that were out of my control, things that I couldn’t have planned for or foreseen…

Like I said, it shouldn’t have turned out the way it did.

Her name was Tina.

She didn’t offer up this information. I saw it on the keychain she carried with her. It was green, with a glittery outline. It matched her eyes. Well, her contacts, really, because Tina was black, her skin a gorgeous shade of mocha. So her actual eyes were probably brown. I planned to find out after scooping them out.

Tina was pretty. Model-pretty. It was actually the first thing I noticed about her, after the waving of her arms of course.

I’d been on my way home from the gym, having had a particularly long day of classes and choosing to work out my aggressions on the treadmill. I wore an old blue hoodie, pulled up over my hair, which had curled up with sweat. My glasses were off, because they’d kept fogging up from the heat radiating off my skin.

I was the opposite of put-together when I saw her. Scruffy looking. Not one that someone would trust based off of looks alone. I knew this when I saw her waving her arms from the side of the road up ahead.

That’s why I’d decided not to stop—I wanted to get home and take a shower, eat something, get some rest. I was tired and irritable, and the last thing I wanted to do was deal with some chick.

But when she saw that I wasn’t slowing down, the bitch walked out into the middle of the street, forcing me to either swerve, hit her, or stop. For a second, I contemplated running her down…it would serve her right for purposely putting herself in the way of my car. But hit-and-runs were messy and much more difficult to cover up. Evidence was always left behind. On the body. On the car. On the road.

Running her over would’ve been reckless.

If she wanted me to stop, then fine. I’d stop.

Pressing down on the breaks, I’d managed to slow without skidding, and came to a stop beside her. By this point, she’d moved out of the road and dropped her arms.

“Everything okay?” I’d asked through the passenger side window.

I was smiling, but inside I was annoyed.

She sauntered over to my car, taking her sweet time, now that she’d gotten my attention.

“Blew a tire and my car went off into the ditch over there,” she’d said, pointing behind her. Her kinky curls fell into her face as she turned back in my direction. Lifting her hand to her forehead, she attempted, but failed, to hold them out of her eyes.

“Any chance you know how to change a tire?” she’d asked, one hand on her hip.

It should’ve been a question, but it wasn’t really. The way she’d said it, was more like I was triple A and she considered it my job to help her. Bitch had no idea how this world worked.

“Sorry, not much of a mechanic,” I’d answered.

Tina frowned. She’d been expecting me to help her. Probably assumed that because I was a man, that I’d naturally know how to fix things. The fact that I did indeed know how to change a tire wasn’t the point. The point was that in today’s age of the modern female, shouldn’t she know how to change one herself? I wasn’t going to be her lapdog.

Besides, changing her tire wouldn’t do anything for me…

“Well, do you have a cell that I can use to call someone?” she’d asked, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

“You don’t have a cell?” I’d asked. “I thought that was a prerequisite for young people nowadays.”

She rolled her eyes at me. I saw her do it, even in the dark.

“I’m older than I look,” she’d said, like she was often mistaken for being a kid and it was a source of frustration for her. Knowing this, I had to guess that she was twenty-three, maybe twenty-four, since she looked about eighteen. “And my phone just ran out of battery.”

“Same with mine,” I’d said. “Looks like we should both invest in a car charger, huh?”

She was losing patience now, but I wasn’t going to make it easier on her. She’d already gone out of her way to ruin my night, so I was going to ruin hers.

Finally she’d said the magic words.

“Can you at least give me a ride or something?” she’d asked, like I was somehow inconveniencing her.

“Of course,” I’d said easily. “It would be my pleasure.”

Tina muttered something under her breath that I couldn’t quite make out, but I was sure she was complaining even though I was trying to help.

I was really going to enjoy killing her.

I unlocked the passenger door and Tina got in, her purse and keys in hand. She looked over at me, probably seeing my face for the first time. Enough of it was shaded by the hoodie that she wouldn’t really get a good look at me though.

“Buckle up,” I’d said cheerfully. “Safety first.”

With a sigh, she’d complied, pulling the belt across her body and stuffing it underneath her breasts.

“You want me to drop you off at home?” I’d asked. “Give me your address and I can put it into my GPS.”

She glanced sideways at me. “Uh, that’s alright. You can just take me to the next gas station.”

I pulled back out onto the road, noting that it was relatively empty for that time of night.

“Ahhh, I get it,” I’d said, nodding. “You don’t want to tell me where you live. Smart. You shouldn’t give your info out to strangers, anyway.”

“No offense,” she’d said, shrugging, still not totally letting me in, but relaxing just a little in her seat. “I just don’t know you.”

“No offense taken,” I’d said.

We drove in silence for a stretch and I turned on the radio to make things more comfortable.

“You coming from the gym?” I’d asked her, noting that she was dressed in black spandex and running shoes.

She was looking out her window, reading the signs as they flew by. Her keys jangled as she fiddled with them in her hand. That’s when I’d seen the Tina keychain.

“Yeah,” she’d said. “Kickboxing class with my girls.”

“Uh-oh!” I’d said jokingly. “Should I be worried? Are you going to kick my ass?”

She turned in my direction and looked me up and down. Then she smiled confidently. “I don’t know…are you going to give me a reason to kick your ass?”

Tina was trying to sound tough now. Make it clear that she wasn’t going to take any shit from me. Not that she was scared of me in the ways that she should’ve been. But she was trying to let me know that I shouldn’t make any moves on her.

“I sure hope not,” I’d said, my eyes locked on the road. “But I gotta be honest, I like a girl with a little fight in her. It’s sexy. “

“I’ve got a boyfriend, you know,” she’d said then, like she was suddenly bored with our conversation. It probably wasn’t even true. And if it was—well, it didn’t matter. Not like I wanted to date her or anything.

This was all just a bunch of nonsense conversation meant to make her feel at ease. Like she was still in control. Keep her from realizing what was about to happen.

It was a game. And she didn’t know the rules.

“Fair enough,” I’d said. “I’m sort of seeing someone myself.”

“Well isn’t she a lucky girl,” Tina had said sarcastically.

Now I was a little offended by that, since Tina wasn’t exactly out of my league. I’d dated girls just as pretty, if not prettier, than her. Her comment made me want to shove something sharp into her gut. Maybe cut out her tongue, too, so she’d finally shut the fuck up.

“I’m the lucky one,” I’d said quickly, thinking of Emmy.

Then I pulled out my cell and began to text as I drove.

Tina glanced down at my hand and then did a double-take.

“Wait—I thought you said that your cell died,” she’d said, sounding pissed again.

“Oh. I guess there was enough juice left in it after all,” I’d said, finishing up my message and sending it.

Tina moved slightly away from me, her arm now touching the door.

I love this part. When a girl first realizes that something might be wrong. It always kick-started this tug-of-war inside of her; she thinks maybe her imagination is just running away from her and doesn’t want to be seen as a silly little girl who went hysterical over nothing. So she does nothing. She ignores the obvious signs, her own body’s intuition, in favor of looking silly.

Still, the fear remains. She becomes like a deer caught in the headlights, knowing she’s in danger, but unable to do anything about it.

And I love to hunt.

Tina was more jittery than most though, and as she pushed the release button on her seatbelt, I reached over and grabbed the nylon material, pulling it up and wrapping it around her neck in one quick motion.

Then I pulled it tight.

She fought against it. Tried to hit me and kicked her legs around the car. But her kickboxing classes hadn’t prepared her for me.

Once she was unconscious, I turned the car toward the mountains.