There was a fury mounting in me and even I was surprised at the ferocity at which it struck.

I could not understand how my infatuation with Maya had gone so disgustingly unreciprocated.

She’s a liar, I thought furiously. She pretends to be someone she’s not.

It had started so beautifully.

I skipped work to attend her yoga classes and she still paid special attention to me like I mattered but then I saw her talking to other men.

I tried to brush it off, telling myself that she was just a tease but when I started hearing the rumors, how she would give it up to anyone, I had to know if they were true.

I refused to believe it. After all, Maya was perfect. She was my angel.

It took me a day to learn her routine, her jobs and her comings and goings. She really was a creature of habit more or less and easy to track down.

I enlisted Cara who was an unsuspecting accomplice in what I was doing.

In my heart I knew it wasn’t really wrong, but I didn’t want others to misconstrue my crush for anything more than it was.

People are so judgmental these days.

All I wanted was to see Maya and make her see me too.

Cara blew everything the night we showed up at Malcolm Trainor’s house and I could feel that Maya just wasn’t happy to see me.

She couldn’t even be bothered to stay and have a drink with us even though I begged her.

She brushed me off without a second thought, leaving me feeling like a loser who had broken into her house or something.

Is she sleeping with Malcolm? I wondered. Is that why Malcolm told me I didn’t have a shot?

To make matters worse, Cara had begun hurling accusations at me, threatening to tell Maya and Malcolm that I was acting strangely if I didn’t stop it.

I hadn’t seen Cara since that night, but she was not forgotten.

After I dealt with Maya, I would tend to Cara too.

They are all such betraying bitches. Maya, Cara, Regan. They don’t deserve a man like me. They don’t deserve goodness at all.

A dozen unhealthy thoughts coursed through me after that night and I found myself consumed with vile thoughts, ideas I shouldn’t have had about the sweet-faced redhead who had stolen my heart all those months ago.

When I spent all that money on those baby roses and she couldn’t be bothered to thank me, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

She needed to pay for her rudeness, for leading me on.

We could have had something special if she had only given us a shot, but she was too busy spreading her legs for everyone else.

I knew where she lived at least and the night I had sent the roses, I went back to the farmhouse.

I waited in the shadows, wanting to ensure that I had my chance to get her alone.

I wasn’t going to do anything; I just wanted to talk to her, to make her see she was being an unreasonable whore.

In the shrubs I kept an eye on her bedroom light, waiting for it to turn on and indicate she was finally alone.

I had learned the layout of the house while Sterling and Luke were wrapped up in one another and I had feigned a trip to the bathroom.

She looked so peaceful in her bed, half curled on her side with her dark red hair fanned over her pillow that night.

It had taken every ounce of my willpower not to crawl in bed beside her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear, but I couldn’t risk getting caught.

It had been clear then that Malcolm didn’t like the competition.

But that night I would fulfill all the fantasies I had been holding onto since first laying eyes on Maya.

Regan had called it an obsession, but Regan was boring and vanilla. That was why it hadn’t lasted between us.

I may have liked Regan before she got the police involved but I feel completely different about Maya. Maya and I have a much stronger bond than Regan and I ever did.

At that moment, Maya was so close I could almost taste her.

That was what I was thinking about that night as I focused on Maya’s bedroom window, waiting for the light to flick on, for her to give me the signal to join her as I knew she wanted me to do.

Soon, sweet angel, I thought, shifting my weight from one foot to the other in anticipation. Soon we will be together.

Instead I received a slap in the face when the shiny BMW raced up the drive and squealed to a stop outside the house.

I recognized the man who had come to pick up my angel from the yoga studio the night I was building up the courage to ask her out.

Maya met him at the door and I saw that she kept looking in my direction but pretended not to see me.

She was putting on a show for me! She knew I was there, watching and she didn’t care!

She ushered him inside and I felt as if my head was going to explode at the disrespect she was showing.

My hand clenched around the baseball bat I had brought.

I can’t remember why I brought it. Probably for protection against Malcolm. Obviously, I was not going to hurt Maya.

I loved her.

But my vision went blurry as hurt and anger bubbled through me.

I wasn’t in control of myself anymore as I came to terms with the fact that Maya was a whore.

There was no denying it now, no saving our relationship.

I stepped forward but as I did, Luke and Sterling sauntered from the front door arm-in-arm.

Inexplicably, I wanted to attack them for being so in love and so oblivious to how cruel the world could be.

Your love isn’t real either! I wanted to scream. You two are fooling each other!

Yet I hung back and did not move until they got into their own car and drove away.

I strode forward then, bat in hand and without another thought, I crashed into the blonde man’s car.

Every hurt feeling, every iota of betrayal I felt, I administered into the vehicle until it seemed to be nothing but a pile of glass.

But it still wasn’t enough, and I scrounged around, looking for something to set it on fire.

All I could find was a can of red spray paint and as I held it in my hand, I wondered why he should be the only one to suffer.

It was all Maya’s fault after all.

She was the whore.

So I spelt my feelings actively on the farmhouse wall and after I stood back to look at the garish crimson words, I was suddenly consumed by regret.

And guilt.

I knew I didn’t have much time before I was caught literally red handed with the can of spray paint and batt in my hand.

I flew off down the country road to where I had parked my car, off the visible line of the local traffic.

By the time I got home to Minnesott Beach, I was much calmer.

It had been cathartic after all.

Maya deserved it.

Her boyfriend deserved it.

I was just balancing the scales and there was no way they could pin it on me.

When the police arrived, I was once again shocked that Maya could turn on me like that.

How dare she accuse me? I thought furiously. She loves me, and this is how she treats me?

I, of course, pleaded ignorance to the police and they went away with little evidence except the suspicions of a slut and her boyfriend.

But I was enraged.

It seemed that the insults would not stop with her.

She cheated on me.

She accused me of terrible things.

And she wouldn’t even talk to me.

Just like Regan.

They were all the same.

Someone had to stop her before she did more damage to more people.

How many men’s lives had she ruined before mine? How many more would she continue to ruin if someone didn’t stop her?

It became painfully clear that I had to end her vicious, nasty ways.

Thanks to Malcolm’s information about her sister, I had learned that Maya was a triplet. It had not taken much research to learn about all three of the Viera triplets; the school teacher, the lawyer and Maya, the calculating bitch.

It was their birthday on the upcoming weekend and it seemed fitting to me that Maya face her misdeeds that day before her family.

She should explain to them all what a disappointment she has been. Her sisters will be so grateful I have outed such a disgrace in their bloodline, I thought gleefully, recalling how lovely were the faces of Vyolet and Yvette Viera from the pictures I had seen online.

Neither one looks exactly like Maya but that’s probably a good thing. I wouldn’t want a constant reminder of her around.

I sat back on my sofa and smiled to myself, picking up my hunting knife.

This Sunday, Maya would be exposed for the liar that she was.

And next year, the Viera twins would be celebrating their twenty-seventh birthday without having a wretched smear on their good name.

I was excited to be doing the family such a service but sad too because I still loved Maya of course.

Still, it had to be done.