Later that night, as I follow Mark Sheer down a nearly empty side street, I can’t help but smile to myself.

I heard her at first. It was a soft whimpering, almost a moaning, and I didn’t know what she was doing. I went into my office and checked the monitor. The room I keep her in is bugged for both audio and video, and while I don’t spend all my time watching it, I do keep it running just in case she tries something stupid. I was thankful for that precaution as I sat down in my chair and stared at the screen, at first not sure what I was seeing, but quickly figuring it out as she opened her legs.

Amelia was getting herself off barely a minute after I had left her. She was panting, moaning, her fingers working fast. My cock was instantly hard as I watched her get closer, closer, her breath coming fast. And then she moaned my fucking name, which drove me absolutely insane. It was all I could do to keep myself from going down there and getting her off all over again.

I knew she wanted me, but the depths of it took me off guard. I expected it to be a slow build, but she’s clearly progressing faster than I could have dreamed. She really is my dirty fucking girl, and soon she’s going to realize it.

But even more exciting to me was what happened when I brought her dinner. I decided not to let her know that I watched her touching herself, just to see how she would act, and she surprised me all over again.

She was curious about my process. She wanted to know how I kill and how I choose those that I kill, not because she’s disgusted by me, but because she agrees with me.

The thought sends chills up my spine. Ahead, Mark turns left onto another street and I hurry to follow him, feeling good, very good.

I’m not sure where this is going, but for the first time in my life, I don’t feel the need to control everything. I want to see what she wants, what she thinks, and how she goes forward. I want to break her, but I don’t want to destroy her.

I turn the corner and I watch as Mark hurries down the block. He pauses at an intersection, looks both ways along a one-way street, and then hurries along. I follow at a respectful distance, keeping an eye on him but not getting too close. Mark seems agitated for some reason, and I can’t figure out why.

He left his house about the time I took my position in the park and started walking fast. I had to hurry to keep up and almost lost him at one point, but found him standing in front of a newsstand buying a paper and a coffee, something he almost never does. Especially not in the evening.

He’s wearing slacks, dress shoes, and a large dark coat. I can’t tell what’s underneath it. I’m in my usual follow outfit, very non-descript and boring, which is what I want from it. He’s walking quickly away again and I have to pick up my pace to keep up.

I watch him toss his coffee away, and note that it seems like he didn’t drink a single sip of it. The paper he keeps tucked under one arm, which seems curious to me. He probably already read today’s paper, so why buy another one?

He crosses the street suddenly without a crosswalk and I have to hurry to follow him again, darting between cars. He slows down at an intersection then looks back over his shoulder.

I turn to my left and study a shop window, my heart hammering in my chest. For a second, I could have sworn that he looked right at me. Maybe I was too busy daydreaming about Amelia and I was just imagining it, but I could have sworn he stared at me like he recognized me.

I glance back toward him and he’s gone. I curse as I hurry up to the intersection and turn left. He’s standing right there, leaning up against a built, and my heart practically skip a beat as I walk past him.

He stares at me the whole way. Once I’m past, he pushes up off the wall and takes a few steps toward me.

“Hey!” he calls out.

I don’t turn back. I don’t slow down. I just keep walking, eyes on the sidewalk.

“You in the hat!” he yells. “I keep seeing you. Why are you following me?”

I’m fucking made. In all my time doing this, I’ve never been made before. I can’t believe it. I start to run as fast as I can, not bothering to pretend. I can’t ever follow him again, and will have to rely on Ryan and his people more now.

I hear Mark come after me, but I lose him easily as I move onto a more crowded block. He continues calling after me, but I just keep going, ignoring him, until I can finally double back toward my car.

Fucking piece of shit. I fucked up big time back there. I was made by some lowlife pedophile, and I have no clue how.

But that’s a lie. I know how, I just don’t want to admit it to myself. I’ve been sloppy lately.

Because of Amelia.

I can’t get her out of my head. Even tonight I was thinking about her touching herself, about her questions, about everything. Normally I’m focused entirely on my victim, but Amelia changed that.

Now, I’m a fucking mess, and I nearly screwed myself. I’m going to have to be extra careful with Mark Sheer now, because he’s going to be paranoid as fuck.

I just set myself back days at best.

Anger wells up inside of me. I fucked up and I can’t blame Amelia. I keep telling her how careful I am, and yet I got caught doing a simple tail.

As I get into my car and head back home, I know what I’m going to do when I get there.

I need to get her out of my head. I need to do something drastic, because I can’t afford any more mistakes.

I’m going to punish Amelia for distracting me with her tight little pussy. I’ll be able to think clearly once I’ve finally had her.

She’s been a dirty, bad girl, and I’m going to take my anger out on her.

And she’s going to fucking like it.