Santiago sat low in his SUV, trolling the streets of downtown Louisville. He had the itch again. He’d been riding around for a couple of hours. He couldn’t believe his luck when he saw that blue-haired bitch walking down the street like a hooker on the stroll.
He stayed far enough behind her and waited until she was stupid enough to go through an alley. Dumb bitch deserves to die. That thought was quickly overridden by the frustration of realizing his SUV was too wide to fit through the narrow passage. Why did this woman have such good luck? It was like she had a guardian angel watching over her or something. She constantly walked into trouble but it never stuck. Teflon.
That meant he wouldn’t get his chance to kill her if she eluded him and made it home. That high-rise apartment’s security would see to that. Bitch must be scared of something or she wouldn’t be living like that—all safe and secure behind a damn doorman.
After a moment of despair over the loss, he willed himself to be even more determined to get what he wanted. Now she had to be the one to die. Nobody else would do. It felt personal now. It was fucking humiliating how she kept slipping through his fingers.
She sashayed through the alley, blissfully unaware of his presence. The way he saw things, she was only getting what she deserved. A girl with any sense would have stayed on lockdown. He knew Diego well enough to know there was no way he let her out of the club. The girl hadn’t been home in days so she must have snuck out. This was a one-in-a-million chance; if he didn’t get her now, he wasn’t going to. It was truly a now or never moment.
He tossed around the idea of parking and tackling her in the alley, then strong-arming her into the SUV. No, too much of a risk. The last thing I need is that bitch kicking and screaming, drawing unnecessary attention that will get my ass locked up.
If she had lived in a house it would have been so much easier. He could have just let her go to sleep and caught her unawares. But there was nothing to be done about that now. He had two blocks to catch her or she would get away again.
Fucking Teflon.
If he had to sleep outside in his car and wait to catch her in the morning—he would. That was the hardest thing about being a killer—the waiting. Controlling the urge to kill was like being a junkie with a fix dangling in front of him and having to grit his teeth and say no to it.
Patience, Santiago, patience.
Maria jammed her hands down deeper in her pockets, exasperated and beyond bored with this whole thing. She’d been walking around for over two hours and there’d been no sign of any serial killers. Figures…
She was tired, her feet hurt, and she really missed her little apartment. The thrill of being bait in the Santiago manhunt had worn off an hour ago. Now she just wanted to take her ass home and relax in a steaming hot tub of water with a glass of wine as big as her head.
Oh, enough of this bullshit. She walked briskly through the alley and around a corner to buy that bottle of wine. Two more blocks and she’d be home.
“Miss Maria, you’re back!” The liquor store owner smiled as he pulled a bottle of her favorite Merlot from the display behind him.
“You know me so well.”
“And why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite customer.” He winked at her and smiled, revealing perfectly straight teeth that just had to be dentures. Just a dirty old man who thinks he’s still got some swagger, trying to get his groove on. No harm in that.
She smiled, handing him a twenty and a ten. “Keep the change—I’m feeling benevolent.”
She didn’t see his smile or the way he appreciated the sway of her hips as she sashayed back out the door and onto the main street that would take her home. She also didn’t see Crush anywhere. Hmm. She hadn’t seen him for the last couple of blocks, not since she’d slipped into the last alley.
She chastised herself for feeling just a little disappointed. She thought she’d seen some male interest there, maybe even a little protectiveness when it came to her. Maybe it had been wishful thinking.
Maybe this guy was more covert than overt when it came to doing whatever it was bodyguards did. Oh, well. It looked like tonight she’d have to settle for a hot date with a bottle of merlot, a hot bath, and her vibrator. Again.
Great.