Page 44 of The Moments You Miss
“Good. Let’s go.” Both of our demeanors shut down, changing so quickly as we head to his car in preparation for what’s to come. This is what I’ve trained for— I’m ready. Twisting my red hair back, my eyes cooling to shards of ice as I look at Cameron. I’m not a victim, I’m not a scared little girl. Not anymore.
Now, I am a weapon.
The drive to the spot to ditch the car is quiet, both of us in our own heads, preparing and nothing else. He parks and pulls out his balaclava, and hands me one as well. Cam gets out of the car,moving to my side to open the door for me, and offers me his leather gloved hand.
The night swallows us whole as we step outside. Our boots quiet against the sidewalk as we walk towards the garage of the man we’re going to take care of tonight. Our pace quickens as we make our way towards the end of the small street, our bodies a simple shadow in the night.
The garage looms ahead, a crooked skeleton against the gray sky.
He’s inside.
Waiting.
Though he doesn’t know it yet.
Cameron gestures, two quick flicks of his fingers, and I follow without hesitation. My pulse thrums in my throat, not with fear but with focus. Every breath, every heartbeat, every step steels me even more. We sneak through the broken doorway, careful not to disturb the shards of glass scattered like glitter across the floor.
That’s when the stench of the garage hits me.Rot. Oil. Something worse beneath it all.
Cameron’s shoulder brushes mine, grounding me, and together we slip into the shadows.
That’s when this all becomes real because there he is. It’s funny we spent so much time preparing for this—a flashback to the hot summers in Daddy’s garage.Well, that’s an unwelcome memory that I quickly shake off; my past has no right to fucking come back and torment me right now. I focus back into themoment, Cameron’s emerald orbs trained on me for a moment.
My eyes lock on the man in front of us, he’s honestly fucking huge, so much bigger than he was in the pictures. He sits on a rusty chair, greasy hands on a tool tightening something on an old car. This man has no idea that these are the last moments of his pathetic life.
I stand there, just watching him breathe. My eyes flick over to Cameron, a quiet question sitting in his eyes.You or me?His gaze never leaving mine, a smirk in the shadows sits across his lips visible through his mask.
My smile echoes his, a dark sinister part of me ready to make a change.Us.
I make the first move, and the knife is already in my hand as I close the distance.
He doesn’t even realize I’m there until my blade kisses the skin at his throat. He jerks, startled, but it’s too late—Cameron’s behind him in an instant, shoving him back down into the chair with a rough hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t scream,” I whisper against his ear, the blade pressing deeper. “Or you’ll die before we have our fun.”
The prick freezes. The scent of fear pours off him in waves, thick enough to choke on. I glance at Cameron. He nods once, and the real work begins.
I let the tip of my knife dance along his jawline, slow, playful, cruel. I want him to feel all of it, I want him toknowwhat’s coming. “You remember Jenna Lewis?” I murmur, barely above a breath.
The man’s body stiffens under my blade. I can’t help but let a smile escape knowing that this is a good thing now, he does fucking remember. With what this piece of shit has done to other women, what he did to Jenna, he honestly fucking deserves so much worse than what Cameron and I are goingto do to him.
Cameron crouches beside him, unfolding a worn photograph— the kind the news forgot a long time ago. A girl with too-wide eyes and a smile that never stood a chance.
“You buried her alive,” Cameron says, voice low and lethal. “Now you get to feel what she felt.” David tries to struggle, he tries to fight back, but Cameron pins him like it’s nothing. Like he’s swatting a fly. Holyfuckis that hot.
I press the flat of my blade against his cheek, watching the tears form at the corners of his eyes. “You’re not getting out of this,” I whisper. “No begging. No mercy.”
I slice.
Not deep.
Just enough to bleed.
His scream is muffled by Cameron’s hand, and I feel the rush of it hit me like a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. I meet Cameron’s eyes over our victim’s trembling head. He’s smiling— smiling like a man who has everything he’s ever wanted right in front of him. And maybe he does. Maybewe both do.
Because this? This is where we belong. Covered in blood. Breathing violence like it’s oxygen. Feeling alive in a way that no soft, safe life could or would ever offer.
Together.
