Seeing my name emblazoned on the front of newspapers isn’t as scary as I once assumed it would be. I like being famous. Well, my old self anyway. I’m someone new now.

I watch as she moves around her new house, room to room, tinkering and clearing up the mess her greying, old man boyfriend leaves behind. I’ve learned his schedules. The man is as meticulous as me when it comes to his routine, so I know exactly when he will and won’t be home. Just like tonight. I know he’s working late at the office. All this time, and Four Fathers is still picking up the pieces from the loss of their fearless leader.

I’ve bided my time and come back for her.

She was always waiting for me.

It’ll make it all the much sweeter.

I slip the syringe from my sock and slide out of the coat closet. Quickly, I move against the far wall and wait for her to return to the kitchen. I’ve thought about nothing else the entire seven months I’ve kept my distance. Building a new life far away from this old one. I’ve changed my appearance and wonder if she’ll recognize me straight away.

This drug I’ve brought here just for her takes hours to actually kill. I will have so much time with her to make up for the wait I’ve made us both suffer through. The old man won’t come home until late, and by then, it’ll be too late for him to save her.

Her feet shuffle toward where I’m waiting, and as soon as she’s close enough, I step out, reaching for her and injecting her in the small freckle on her lower neck. Her eyes widen, and she looks scared as she sways on her feet.

“It’s okay, Lucy,” I say, comforting her. She’s no doubt been fed hate from Trevor about me. Killing Eric, his best friend, was bound to cause some friction, but Lucy should know what we have.

A few unsavory words won’t change the solid bond between us.

Her body tumbles as the paralytic consumes her. I quickly grab her so she doesn’t hurt herself with the fall. I lift her and carry her up to the room they share, placing her on the bed. I’ve fantasized about fucking her for longer than any of my other girls.

What we have is special and timeless.

I couldn’t move on.

No one else caught my eye, and things felt unfinished. Lucy is mine. I needed to come back for her, claim her. I take my time stripping her, exposing her skin. Tears well in her bright eyes, and I kiss them away, relishing the burst of salty goodness exploding over my tongue. I know it’s elation in her tears. She’s been waiting as long as I have for this day.

My hands stroke over her body, reacquainting myself with her.

I missed you so much, lovely Lucy.

I’ve waited so long for you.

Pushing her legs apart, I see her cunt is seeping with need, and I sigh. This moment is beyond anything I could have imagined. Leaning down, I swipe my tongue over her slit, dipping through her folds and devouring her.

A phone shrills through the house, and I pause. The answering machine picks up after six rings. It beeps, and Nixon’s voice speaks.

“Hey, Lucy. Rowan has gone into labor and wants you here.”

Beep. Nothing.

My hand shakes, and I find myself taking a step away from the bed.

I knew Rowan had survived her gun shot. It was superficial; hit her hip bone and lodged itself into the joint. She walks with a slight limp, but nothing life changing.

I assumed the baby shit she was spewing was her mind losing the plot after everything she witnessed that night.

But she is having a baby.

My baby is having a baby.

The memories of me cutting her from her mother and hearing her first cry almost has my knees buckling.

My baby, having a baby. I made so many mistakes that led to the place we’re at now. I thought all hope for ever feeling for Rowan, what I once had, vanished that night, but this overwhelming need to go to her has me abandoning Lucy.

“I’m sorry. I need to go,” I inform her, my lips still wet from her sweet cunt. She and I just weren’t meant to be, it would seem. After all this longing and waiting, she will die hopeless and alone.

I’m sorry, Lucy.

I rush from the property and jump in the car I’m using while in town. I put a hat on when I reach the hospital and bring up the layout on the app I downloaded onto my phone. It’s amazing what you can do with apps. There’s a fucking app for everything these days, making life for wanted criminals easier to go undetected.

I avoid all the busy parts of the hospital and locate the laundry room.

“Sir, you can’t be in here,” a woman tells me, shaking her head and pointing to the door. I don’t have time to come up with something witty to win her over. Instead, I rush her, gripping her head in my palms and twisting violently until her neck pops with a snap.

I toss her over my shoulder and drop her in one of the large carts full of soiled fabrics.

Locking the door, I strip from my clothes and stuff them in the trash, locating a surgeon’s outfit to fit me. I dress the part, and slip from the room. Keeping my eyes down and surgical mask in place, I stay out of the way of other doctors until I’m where I need to be.

I slip behind the desk of the labor ward and look up the patients on the computer.

“Do you need help, Doctor?” a young woman in scrubs asks.

“No.” I don’t look up at her. Instead, I carry on searching until I find Rowan.

Delivered.

I jump up and move to the nursery.

My heart is in my throat. I thought this feeling had left me forever, but the anticipation is overwhelming. I reach the newborn room and look through the glass at all the new life, fresh and wrapped in blankets. Cries echo in the air. Then, I see her.

The name tag. “Wheeler.”

All the emotion I felt for Rowan hits me once more.

Mine.