Page 1 of Capturing Ava
Part One
Ihaveaperfectlife.
A life that most would kill for.
I worked hard for this,
Little did I know the girl who used to hunt,
would be the one getting hunted.
~Ava
1
THEJOB
THE GHOST
The photograph in my hands causes a crease to form at my brow. I knew this girl. She had betrayed me a long time ago, and I had just let her get away. It was akin to poetic justice. Her life was in the palm of my hands. I clench the photograph in my hand. And I was going to crush it.
Ava Valentina.
Even the thought of her name leaves a foul taste in my mouth. Although I had let her go, the memory of that pesky little vixen lingered in my mind for ten years. Then, chance came knocking when someone recognized her in my town.
She should have stayed out of sight, because now she is within my reach.
Escaping won’t be so easy for her this time.
Karma was on its way, bringing with it everything little Ava deserved.
I have a clear view of Ava in her kitchen from the woodland trees. She was making this too easy for me. The picturesque dwelling she had chosen had given me the perfect spot to watch her.
I had thought it would have been much harder, but she was making this too easy. I glance at her face, still as stunning as before, but what was I hoping for? Wasn’t that what had caught my attention in the beginning?
The flowing of her long golden hair accompanies each movement her body makes. She throws back another beer and laughs with her guests. The sway of her hips ignites an unwarranted desire within me.
Everything about Ava drew you in. Her scent. Her smile. When she smiled, her dimples would create a striking contrast against her creamy complexion. Not one of those fake smiles, but a genuine one that lights up your face and makes your eyes dance. Speaking of her eyes, goddamn, she had the most majestic, iciest blue eyes I’d ever seen. So much depth, so many secrets.
The thought of those captivating eyes and tempting mouth causes my jaw to clench. She disappears into the night, taking my bank balance with her. She not only drained my balls that night, but also drained my account.
I was in for a shock when I woke up the next morning and discovered she had disappeared. The image of her body etched itself into my mind. I didn’t know how she got under my skin, but she did.
That night, I wasn’t even supposed to be out. I always enjoyed a drink and a good fuck after a kill.
“Now, how did you ever think you could escape me?” I taunt tonight’s unwilling victim.
Victor Rossi, a bastard by nature. Finding him was a breeze, but seeing what he was up to, well, that just made my blood boil. Victor was notorious for trafficking women, women. This girl, who couldn’t have been over fourteen, was at this terrible den when I got there.
It filled the air with the stench of blood, sweat, and sex. I would have embraced the scent, one of my three favorite things in life. However, when I see her bruised and bloody body on the floor, I am filled with nothing but repulsion.
He waves his cock above her motionless body, swaying his hips as he sprays piss over her slight frame. Anger flows through me like madness through the disturbed.
As he enjoys his moment of bliss, he remains oblivious to my silent approach from behind. I feel his body tense up as my hand grips the back of his neck. “I knew you were a bastard, Rossi, but kids?” Against his neck, I let out a fierce snarl.
He remains silent. Fortunately, I would prefer not to have to remove his tongue earlier than intended. The sounds of torture and death would create a melodic serenade.
“Now, what will we do with you?” I mock.
