I never expected that to happen. I didn’t know what I was thinking would go down, but I never imagined that she would react that way to killing Sheer.

I feel the heat of the incinerator on my face as the pedophile’s body burns to ashes. Amelia is asleep inside still, and she has been for the last ten hours. It’s almost like she got this great release and then she needed to sleep and recover for a long time.

I can’t stop picturing her plunging that knife into Sheer’s heart. Her face was neutral, like she was just taking out the garbage or something, but as soon as the blood began to pour onto the floor her expression changed. She looked like she was in church having a deep religious experience. It was incredible to watch.

And then there was after, the way she kissed me, the way she felt as I fucked her. That was a perfect moment for me. My need was satisfied and then my other hunger was sated, my hunger for her.

When I started this years ago, I never pictured letting someone else take the kill for me. The moment that I finally end the life of some scumbag is one of the greatest pleasures of my life, and to let someone else take that from me is a huge deal. But I needed to do it, both for me and for her.

She needed to know what she was capable of. Now she’s aware of what’s inside of her, and hopefully I can help her harness it. But I also needed to see that I could trust her. Now that she’s killed with me, there’s no greater bond imaginable. I know she’ll never run and she’ll always be a part of my life in some way.

I stand and watch Sheer burn away as the sun slowly rises. I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, but I do know that I finally have a mission in life. I’m going to take down that whorehouse and I’m going to take care of Amelia. I don’t know how those two things work together, but I’m excited to find out.

I walk slowly back to the main house. I take off my boots in the mudroom and walk into the kitchen. I pause, surprised to see Amelia standing at the coffeemaker. She smiles as I come near her. She looks so fucking cute and gorgeous in just a pair of her panties and one of my white button-down shirts. It’s like something from a movie, although there’s so much darkness beneath the surface between us.

“Good morning,” I say.

“Good morning.” She yawns softly. “I can’t believe I slept so much.”

“We went to bed early.”

“I know. Still.”

“You did a hard thing yesterday.”

“I guess I did.” She trails off, looking at the coffeemaker. I can’t read her expression, but when she looks back at me, she’s smiling. “What’s the deal for today?”

“Well,” I say, taking her by the hips. “First things first.” I kiss her lightly on the lips then steer her over to the kitchen table. I gently sit her down then I remove the GPS tracking device from her ankle.

She laughs as soon as it’s gone. “What, I kill one guy and now you trust me?”

“Now I trust you,” I say simply. “You’re a part of this now. You’re free.”

She blinks, clearly surprised at that. “I can leave if I want?”

“You can,” I say. “I really mean it. You’re free.”

She goes quiet for a second, looking down at her ankle. For the first time since she’s been here, there’s nothing keeping her in my house. If she gets up and runs now, she’ll get away.

And I’ll let her go. I knew I couldn’t keep her forever from the start of this. But as things progressed, I did start to think that maybe, just maybe, she’d somehow stay anyway. I don’t want her to leave, but it’s her right.

I’m not going to kill her. I’m not going to hurt her. She killed with me, proved herself, and now she’s free to go. If she wants to leave and live a normal life away from serial killing, away from death, I don’t blame her. This isn’t a life that most people would choose willingly. I’m not going to force her into it if she doesn’t want to.

She finally looks up at me with a small smile. “Well,” she says. “Coffee is ready. Want some?”

“Sure.” She walks over to the pot, grabs two mugs from the cabinet, and pours. She brings me over one and sits back down.

“What’s for breakfast?” she asks.

With that, I have to look away. I can’t help myself. I’m smiling too big and the excitement is so strong. I don’t know what it means, but at least she’s staying for breakfast. I walk over to the stove, get out some eggs and a pan, and light the burner.

I’ll cook for her as long as she wants me to. But the moment she wants to get away, I’ll let her go, too.

For now, the memory of her beautiful, innocent face as she plunged that knife into Sheer’s chest keeps me going.

The city seems less crowded than usual as I make my way down Market Street. I spot Ryan up ahead in his usual spot, wearing his usual clothes, but something feels off. He glances up at me but instead of nodding, he quickly looks away.

I approach slowly, uncertain. He likely knows that Sheer has disappeared already, and maybe he’s finally taking issue with what I do with these people.

He’s difficult to read. From the beginning, I got the sense that he didn’t much like what I did, but he also didn’t much care one way or the other so long as he kept getting paid. Some of the men I’ve worked with in the past kept helping me because they felt that what I was doing was right. Those men were always trustworthy, but they were also more dangerous. It’s hard to control a real believer.

But a person that does the work for money, they’re easier. If difficulties arise, you just give them more money. I’ve always treated Ryan very well, and I figured he’d never turn on me.

Maybe I’m wrong. I’ve been wrong before. Fuck, lately it’s felt like one wrong decision after another.

I nod as I approach and then crouch down next to him. He looks at me with a slight frown.

“Sheer is gone,” he says.

“Good,” I answer.

“Did you find the place?”

“I found it.”

He nods, looks away. “Good.”

I take a small, folded envelope from my pocket and slip it into his lap. He glances at it, leafs through it quickly, and then tucks it away.

“There’s more than normal,” he says.

“You did more work than normal.”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t bad.”

I hate this stupid fucking game we’re playing. I’ve never known him to be anything but straightforward with me.

“What’s the matter?” I finally ask him.

He looks at me. “Nothing.”

“You’re lying. We’ve been working together long enough now that you shouldn’t be afraid to speak your mind. So speak.”

He pauses then looks down at his hands. “I know what you do with them,” he says softly.

I watch him, a little surprised, but I don’t say anything. I let him speak. I get the sense that he needs to say it out loud, to say the words.

“They disappear and I don’t say a word,” he continues. “Why would I? They’re bad fucking men. This last guy, he was real bad, one of the worst. A fucking child rapist? Sick guy, man.” Ryan shakes his head.

“My problem isn’t that these guys go away. It’s that you apparently got someone new working with you.” He looks at me, a little confused. “Some young girl. Is that true?”

I’m completely taken off guard. When Ryan met Amelia, he didn’t seem bothered by her at all, but now suddenly he cares. It’s strange, and something must have happened.

“Why does that bother you now?” I ask him.

“Someone saw her, man,” he says. “Bashed the guy in the head with a brick.”

Terror pulses through me. “What?”

“Cops were all over the place yesterday,” he goes on. “Some local heard the guy yelling right up until your girl smashed him in the head with a brick.” Ryan shakes his head. “I don’t know what you have her doing, man, but that’s messed up. She seemed like a nice girl.”

I have to stand up because I feel like I might pass out. Ryan just said that the cops had been called and that someone witnessed her smash Sheer with a brick.

That means they probably saw me and the van and saw the two of us load Sheer into the back. They probably told the cops the whole fucking outrageous story, and the cops might actually be looking for me.

Fucking hell. This is bad, extremely bad. In all my time killing, this is the closest the cops have come to finding me. I’m sure that I’m in their files somewhere, some phantom guy that keeps making bad men disappear, but they’ve never gotten close to finding me before. I don’t know how much information they have, or if they even have anything useful. For all I know, the witness didn’t really make anything out and can’t identify me or the van.

“How do you know all this?” I ask him.”

“I saw the cops there. Plus, I got my ways.”

“How much do they know?”

“I can’t say.” He shrugs. “I’m not really sure. That’s all I know.”

“Look into it for me. Find out what they know.”

“All right.” He nods. “But man, what are you doing with that girl?”

“She’s . . . “ I trail off, not sure how to describe her. “She’s a part of this,” I say finally.

“Okay, man. Just, don’t become like the guys you make disappear.”

I stare at him then nod, surprised at the insight. “I won’t.”

“Fine. I’ll see what the cops know.”

“And put someone on watching that whorehouse.” I tell him the address and he writes it down on a small piece of scrap paper.

“Got it,” he says.

I stand up. “Thanks.”

He grins at me. “You keep paying me like this and I won’t be on the streets much longer.”

“Good,” I say softly, and then turn and walk away.

My mind is reeling as I head back toward my car. The cops know about Amelia, or at least to some small degree. They probably have a general description of her and they for sure know that she took Sheer away.

I have to get rid of all the clothes we wore that night. Plus I’ll have to ditch the van and get a different one. None of that is a big deal, but just the fact that I need to do it is worrying.

Good things came from last night, but I’m reminded that Amelia wasn’t ready. She still has a long way to go before I can really trust her to come out on these missions with me. I know it’s going to be disappointing for her, but I have to tell her that she can’t help with this whorehouse thing.

If I’m even going after it anymore. They could have moved locations if the cops were all over the place last night and this morning. It might have spooked them off. That would be pretty fucking bad, but I won’t tell Amelia until I confirm. I don’t need her blaming herself any more than she already will.

Troubled, I head back home to warn Amelia and to burn our clothes.