Page 31 of They Are Mine

I just need him here.

With me. Always.

And then… I can move on.

The man at the gym will be next.

But first? I need to make sure Noah has nowhere else to go.

#

The next day, I know Noah goes to work at 8:30 a.m. He’s always on time.

I pack my bag, gloves, hoodie, a change of clothes, all the things I might need, and drive to his apartment.

I park a few blocks away and walk.

There are so many options.

A small fire? A gas leak? Flooding?

I’ve thought about them all.

But something nastier? Something total?

That’s better.

I know his neighbors’ schedules, I know everything.

I make my way to his apartment. The sliding glass door makes it easy. They are always the easiest way in. Most people are lax about making sure the bars that lock them in place are secure. Noah is no different.

Inside, it smells like him.

Warm. Clean. Comforting.

I breathe it in.

Then?

I destroy it.

It’s so easy.

I start with his closet. Clothes slashed, shirts torn, shoes ruined. I’ll help him replace it all.

Then, the living room. Sofa cushions ripped open, stuffing everywhere.

I tip over a lamp. Shatter it.

The bookshelf? Gutted. Pages torn from his favorite novels, spines snapped.

The bedroom?

The bed.

I take my knife, drag it across the mattress, slowly.

Precise. Deep.

---