Sneak peek!  

{From Chapter 3]

A decent sort of fellow would call an ambulance.  But he wasn't decent.  And it was better if she died anyway.

His pet was still on the bed where he'd dumped her. Her breathing was raspy.  Blood covered the pillow and crusted her nose.  Bruises marred her face like an outbreak of mold.  She stared at the ceiling to avoid looking at him.

"I wouldn't have been so hard on you if you hadn't screwed everything up," he growled.  "Do you know how hard I worked on you? You think what I do is easy?"

They never appreciated how much he put into stalking them.  They never saw his side of it.  Women always complained that men never paid enough attention to them.  Well, he did.  And still they complained. 

"Everything was going along just perfectly.  And then you had to go and spoil it.  You proved yourself unworthy of my honor."

Instead of revealing himself in a spectacular way, he'd allowed rage to consume him. And he had to admit it had felt good. Before the shame of not being able to control it set in, it had felt very good.

This wasn't the first time things had gone wrong.  His first pet disappeared before he'd finished with her.  His second pet's bully of a brother had complicated matters, but he still got great satisfaction knowing that, as she spoon fed her brother and wiped his ass, she thought of him.  Yes, she thought of him every day.  The third…well, the gun had ended things prematurely.  A shame, that.

He looked down at her and felt no stirring.  The drug of her had worn off.  He'd never had such a sweet opportunity to withdraw from the woman who had occupied his mind and body so thoroughly.  To purge her from every cell in his body.  The obsession was a drug addiction.

The ringing phone jarred him from his thoughts: a woman's voice on the machine in another room.  Then silence.  He had to finish cleaning up.  One hair could place him there, irrefutable evidence. 

He slid the bloody length of chain into a plastic bag and placed it into his duffel.  The baggie containing the soggy condoms were already inside.  Then he pulled out his portable vacuum.  Her eyes twitched at the sound of the machine as it ran over the carpet.  He tossed a blanket over her, dismissing the act as an afterthought.

Already the feeling of restlessness and emptiness settled into his bones.  He was only happy when he had a purpose, an obsession to fuel his one other pleasure: his art.  In that sense, his real life fueled his fantasies. And sometimes his fantasies fueled his real life, too.  Next time he would make sure it ended on his terms.

Just as he finished cleaning, he heard someone knock on the door.  A woman called out.

He peered out the peek-a-boo hole Dana had recently installed.  Because of him, no doubt.  He imagined her asking the sales clerk about the different models…thinking of him.

The porch light illuminated the woman.  The sister.  He'd seen her around when his pet had tried to convince her that she had a stalker.  The sister had corralled his pet to the police station.  Obviously not to file charges.  He smiled, imagining again how it would have sounded as she detailed his supposed menace.

The sister looked uptight as she brushed her shoulder-length curls from her face, only to have them bounce right back again.  Usually she looked professional and put together. She reminded him of a doll a neighbor girl had when he was a kid.  The doll's name was Suzy, though he didn't remember the girl's name.  She was always brushing the doll's brown curls and pretending to have conversations with it.  It was such a cute dolly.  Wouldn't he like to hold it?

He'd ripped off Suzy's head with his teeth. The girl's screams echoed pleasantly in his head.

The woman knocked again.  He liked watching her, even with the distorted view.  She was short, like her sister, but petite instead of stocky, with a heart-shaped face and Cupid's bow mouth.  He had never targeted sisters before.  Usually he moved on to a new area and a completely unrelated woman.  It could be interesting, going after the sister who has to deal with the mess he's left behind.  And this sister was feistier.  He usually chose the weak, but it was time for a challenge.  He even admired her, for standing by her sister when what she was hearing must have sounded insane.  So for her devotion, she would be rewarded.

With him.

His groin tightened at the prospect.  The cute-as-a-dolly lady started going through her purse as though looking for something.  A key?  Couldn't take the chance.  He grabbed his bag and wedged himself into the coat closet near the front door.

The door opened and, through the wooden slats, he saw her take a cautious step inside. 

"Dana?  It's Maggie.  I'm coming in."

She locked the front door before flooding the living room with light.  Her dolly face creased with worry.  She looked at the two wine glasses on the coffee table and tilted her head quizzically.

He smiled.  She had locked the door thinking to keep him out.  If she only knew that he was less than three feet away.  He could reach out and grab her.  Could smell her lilac soap.  He would leave it up to fate.  If she didn't discover him, he would make her his next pet.  And if she opened the door to hang up her sweater coat…

He had to keep himself from letting out his low, rumbling chuckle.  Oh, come on, dolly.  Come on.  Open the door.