“Dude, where the fuck are you?”

Huffing, I slammed my hand down on the kitchen counter, wishing like hell I could throw my cell against the wall and never talk to anyone again. “On my way,” I growled.

Cliff sighed. “What’s taking so long?”

If he only knew. It was a bad day for me. Hell, every fucking day was worse than the last. It didn’t help that my father liked to call and remind me of my failure every goddamn week. “I’ll be there in a minute,” I snapped.

“Dude, hurry up. Emma’s been asking about you. I think tonight’s gonna be your night, if you get out of your shitty mood.”

I hung up the phone and took a deep breath, my fists clenched tight to keep my hands from shaking. Sometimes I wished my friends knew about my past, so I wouldn’t have to come up with bullshit excuses every time I got pissed. Cliff was my friend and we started up a band a couple of years ago, but he didn’t know about my real life; neither did Emma.

When I picked up and moved from Charleston to attend college in the North Carolina Mountains, I’d left everything behind. None of the students recognized me, or put together the pieces of who I actually was. It was nice for a while, but I was living a lie. I fought the urges inside of me every single day.

Hurrying out of my apartment, I took the stairs two at a time. The smell of weed wafted past my nose. I’d give anything to smoke a blunt and forget life for a while, but it wouldn’t help. I could be stoned off my ass, or in bed with random college chicks, and still not be able to forget.

The night air was so cold I pulled my hoodie over my head and started on my way through the parking lot to one of the back street shortcuts. Snow had begun to fall and by the end of the night, the ground would be covered. Since I planned on getting drunk and going home with Emma, I didn’t see the need in driving my truck.

Emma Turner was one of the only girls on campus I hadn’t tried to fuck. She was more to me than just some friend, or singer in my band. However, tonight I didn’t give a shit. If she wanted me, I was damn well going to make sure she got it. To hell with the consequences.

The wind whipped by my ear, howling so hard it sounded like a scream. The street wasn’t lit, but that didn’t bother me. I liked it that way. The bar was only a quarter of a mile away, so I hoped the silence would help my mood. The last thing I wanted was to be a dick to Emma when she didn’t deserve it.

Another muffled sound caught my attention and I stopped. There were school apartments to my right, music blaring from one of the many parties going on. However, this sound had come from my left, the direction of the woods. I heard it again and my body froze. It was a woman’s scream. Only someone within close distance would’ve heard it.

What made my blood boil were the sounds that followed. It was as if everything inside of me snapped. The urges I’d fought for so long surfaced—there was no going back. Taking off into the woods, I was nearly blinded by my rage. The sounds grew louder and it sickened me to the core.

Everything was dark, but it wasn’t enough to hide what was going on. The girl’s face was pushed into the ground to muffle her screams while the fucker undid his pants, her skirt lifted and underwear ripped. She fought as hard as she could, but she was no match for his size.

I needed him to suffer . . . but even more than that, I wanted him dead. Without a word, I closed the distance and grabbed him around the neck. Hauling him up, I slammed him against a tree. It felt good to hear his howls of pain.

“What the fuck?” he spat, reeking of beer.

Squeezing his neck, I bashed him against the tree, his eyes growing wide in terror. “Feel like a man now?” I growled. “It’s not so fun when you’re helpless, is it?”

He gasped for air. “She . . . wanted . . . it.”

Teeth clenched, I squeezed harder. “You’re a pathetic son of a bitch. Let me guess, she wanted it as badly as you want this.” I dropped him down, long enough to grab his chin and the back of his head. Snapping his neck, I watched him collapse lifeless to the ground.

The moment stilled my breath. I hadn’t known what it would feel like to kill someone, to know it was me who took their life. Out of all the emotions I could have guessed I’d experience, pure elation wouldn’t have been one of them. The high that buzzed through my body felt like nothing I’d ever experienced before. There was no remorse, no guilt for what I’d done. He deserved to die, like the countless other men out there who preyed on innocent women.

The girl’s whimpers brought me back. With my hood over my head, I turned to face her. Knowing I was backlit by the moon, she couldn’t see my face through her tears and the dark. Her shirt was torn and she scrambled to lower her skirt.

“You’re safe now,” I said, helping her up by the hand. Her whole body shook and she fell into my arms, her cries echoing in my ear. I had to get away. “You need to get help. Run to the apartments and call 911. Now!”

I let her go and she took off out of the woods toward the apartments, while I raced back to mine. There was only one thing I could do. Once I was in my apartment, I grabbed the phone out of my pocket and found my father’s number. He picked up by the end of the first ring.

“What’s wrong, son?”

I leaned against the door, knowing my life was about to get exponentially more fucked up. “I’m ready. Just tell me what I have to do.”