Page 198 of Brainwashed
Move over Son of Sam!
Seriously… Someoneactuallywrote that in the New York Times. That whoever was committing these heinous acts wasa thousand times more depraved than David Berkowitz could ever be.
I was walking on air. Shimmering, like I’d been dipped in diamonds. Sure, I’d known who I was for the better part of four years at that point. I’d been actively killing since I was eighteen, chopping up bodies, carving their faces. I knewinsidethat I was The Carver… But you don’t give yourself a nickname, like that hack Berkowitz.
You sit back and let the New York Times pick it for you.
Finally, I was being recognized! At long last—and at only the tender age of twenty-two—I’d made a name for myself. Made an impression.
I wasn’t invisible… I was astar.
And in all honesty, in that moment, while I scoured that newspaper article so thoroughly I couldn’t even blink, I had to actively stop myself from running over to the police station and turning myself in.
It was a brief, knee-jerk sort of reaction, which vanished after only a few seconds. But still… My first thought was,I want them to know who’s doing this.
I wanted credit. I wanted my name,Felix Darcey, to be linked to this badass nickname,The Carver.
But a lustful distraction stole me when I sawhim.
Henry Liu… He was walking out of the coffee shop I’d just come from, also holding a coffee and a paper. He wasn’t really paying attention to anything around him, because he was too busy reading that headline. The one aboutme.
My eyes lingered on him while my pulse thrummed in my neck, fingers gripping the items in my hands a little too tightly. He was very attractive, dark-haired, sharp angles. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt which showed off his immaculate biceps, fitted enough to tease even more glorious muscle underneath.
It was summer, but I remember that day wasn’t stifling. Just warm enough that I felt like I could melt with this gorgeous man. And that was when I realized I could never turn myself in. I couldneverallow myself to be caught.
I needed killing far too much.
My victims were a part of me. I wasn’t so arrogant to think I could be famous without them… No, no. Withoutthem, I wouldn’t beThe Carver.
So I decided I would like to spend the afternoon following Henry Liu. Because after the rage I’d taken out on Lee Turnov—who was, in fact, a pedophilic child abuser—and the stress I’d gone through getting him posed on that goddamn tree all by myself, I had to figure I was due for a few more months of relaxation.
I was due for someone sweet and beautiful, like Cameron, whom I could fawn over in the bath. I was ready for my next victim.
And apparently, he was ready for me. Because the universe sent him walking directly into me.
“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry.” Henry had fumbled after bumping into me on the sidewalk. He checked his coffee, then my shirt frantically. “I didn’t spill on you, did I??”
My lips curved into a pleasant smile. He was so kind, and he smelledfantastic. “Just a little, but it’s no harm.” I gave him a quick up-and-down, before murmuring, “I’m Felix.”
His look of concern faded off as he appraised my face, a grin of interest covering his lips as well. “I’m Henry.”
In the back of my mind, I knew this meet-cute style prologue wasn’t a great idea. I never picked guys up in broad daylight, especially with so many witnesses around. The streets of Brooklyn Heights were bustling with people on this gorgeous Sunday afternoon, which wasn’t ideal.
But then I was also riding high on my newfound nickname. I was cocky, viewing myself on an elite list of sick humans somehow deemedcelebritiesin this twisted country.
And unfortunately, the part I seemed to be forgetting in that moment was that every single one of those guys had beencaught.
But all that took a backseat in my mind as I inched closer to Henry, glancing down at the paper in his hand. “It’s crazy, right? What this guy has been doing…”
Henry’s dark lashes fluttered as he nodded at me, releasing a flustered sigh. “I know! I was just reading about it… I mean, that Rockefeller Center thing was disturbing.”
Elation fizzled in my gut. “So sick. And it was everywhere formonths.”
“It was,” Henry agreed, though I sensed a little more morbid fascination than disgust in his tone and features. “You couldn’t turn on the TV without seeing them hoisting that body down from the tree…”
I ground my teeth together to keep myself from grinning. “Hopefully they catch him soon.”
“Yea.” Henry nodded along. “I know. I’d like to be able to walk around at night without looking over my shoulder every two seconds.”
