Page 16 of Stalker

Including when I’d cut a man from ear to ear for abusing a kid on a playground. I’d still been a teenager and hadn’t known either one of the two people involved. Right and wrong had already been muddled, yet I knew a grown man should never abuse anyone, let alone a kid who was half his size and one third his weight.

I’d made my appearance known, which had prompted the asshole to cease his horrible behavior.

Then I’d followed him, learning where he and the little boy lived. Later, when I’d found him alone, I’d made certain he would never hurt anyone again.

It hadn’t been the first time I’d killed and it certainly hadn’t been the last. But it had been the most satisfying kill of all. Maybe because I’d managed to free someone from the crippling prison much like the kind I’d been forced into.

One after the other.

Running not only helped keep me in shape; it also allowed me to clear my mind of such reprehensible thoughts. It was an effort to keep me living a normal life. Whatever that meant. At least the beast inside was quiet for now. Although that was subject to change at any moment.

I could easily be labeled a deranged individual, a sociopath who shouldn’t be allowed to live in society, but I could control myself. I’d proven that time and time again. Only I had to admit I was getting itchy. Two things calmed the beast.

Bloodshed and sex.

And right now, I wasn’t in the mood for female company even if the last taste of a woman had been extremely powerful and satisfying. I smiled as I turned down another path, finally glancing at my watch that kept track of my heartrate and how many miles I’d traveled. Six already today. At least four more and I’d feel better.

I took another turn so I could run by the river when I heard a sound. A cry. Not just any cry, but one coming from a woman. I knew shrieks of joy from stimulation brought on by almost every emotion. That wasn’t what I was hearing. The woman was in trouble and if I knew how bystanders acted, they wouldn’t lift a finger to help her.

My legs pumped as I moved closer, scanning the area with twenty-twenty vision.

A hooded man was actively assaulting a young woman, who I could tell by her attire had also been out jogging. I reacted, not thinking about anything but giving the motherfucker a dose of his own medicine. While I didn’t carry a weapon with me when performing my normal exercise routine, I didn’t need a gun or knife to handle a situation. My hands were enough.

With the perpetrator managing to pin her to the ground, his hand now over her mouth, he began trying to tie her wrists with thick rope. She was half in, half out of the water.

She continued struggling, managing to free one arm. I watched as she issued a solid punch. Anger boiled within me the same way it did for her attacker. When he pulled out a gun, pressing the barrel against her cheek, I threw myself at him.

With ease, I knocked him off, snatching the weapon from his hand.

“Run!” I told the woman just as I leveled a brutal punch to the man’s gut. As he tumbled backward, I noticed the mask he was wearing. The scumbag was wearing a clown mask, the ghoulish features seemingly dripping with blood.

The victim screamed hysterically as she stumbled away from the riverbank, the commotion enough I sensed she was drawing a crowd.

As the asshole came at me, attempting to pummel my face, I ducked, punching him three times under the jaw before lifting his body several feet off the ground. The rush of adrenaline was boosted by the victim’s continued screams.

I tossed him to the ground, instantly wrenching one arm while he managed to grab a knife from his pocket with the other.

“You should learn women deserve to be treated like queens.” The moment he took a swing, managing to slice my arm, I returned the favor and snapped his in half. There was nothing more powerful that to crush a man’s bones or to hear the sound the moment justice was paid.

But I wasn’t finished.

Neither was he.

While he exclaimed in pain, he was strong enough to jerk forward. He slashed the knife again, but I caught his wrist. As soon as I started to bend it backwards, deep male voices caught my attention.

“Drop the weapon!”

I had a firm hold and allowed myself to turn my head. The two police officers pointing their weapons at both of us were attempting to stop the fun.

A growl rose from my throat and it took all I had to stop my actions.

“Not that one!” the victim yelled as she rushed forward, her eyes full of terror. “He saved me.”

There was nothing more I hated than to be stopped before I finished a job. Snarling, I retuned my attention to the perpetrator, realizing I’d managed to shift the direction of the blade. Now the point was a mere two inches from his neck. His pulse was rapid, exposing his fear. If I’d had thirty additional seconds, I could have ended the prick’s life.

“Put the weapon down, sir. We’ll handle this.”

Exhaling, I yanked the weapon from his hand, relieving the pressure before tossing it aside. After ripping the mask from his face, I offered a wide smile, making certain what I had to say only he heard. “I’m not done with you yet, freak. When you least expect it, I will strike.”

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