Jennifer Lynne is a homicide detective working on one of the most horrific serial killing cases New York has seen in the last decade. When she and her partner get a lead on the suspect, they catch him with his seventh victim. But things go south and...
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Three weeks ago, we arrested the most infamous serial killer this city has seen in the last decade. I awaited the day. Now, it feels like a lifetime ago.
I'm no longer the woman I was that day. I don't recognize her in the mirror. I can't feel her anymore. I could reach inside myself, flailing among my blood and guts but I won't find her. She's gone.
All that's left of me is a hollow core.
What I do feel, however, is darkness. Cold and hot at the same time like a bad bug. It comes in flashes to remind me of what is inside me. Of what is controlling me, giving me evil thoughts, and guiding my hand.
Yet I can't help but wonder if it's all an excuse. Even if a demon is in my ear, telling me to pick up the knife and stab a man thirty-three times, I'm still the one who swings my arm and plunges the blade.
I'm the one doing it.
No, the demon isn't just telling me what to do. I feel myself slowly becoming the demon, joining it, fusing with it. I'm losing myself and molding what's left of my ego into a demonic presence.
The guilt of what I've done is eating me alive. It chews on me like termites in my gut, slowly chomping their way up until there's no flesh left. It consumes me but leaves me numb. I've killed four men. Men who didn't deserve to die. But I think what hurts the most is the betrayal of it.
I've betrayed my father. Dad. I'm getting closer to becoming the person he spent his career hunting. I watched him get buried in a bad case for most of my upbringing. He chased a ruthless killer for over twenty years. As the number of victims piled up, he drowned a little more. I think he lost more of himself as he stared at their photos late into the night — something I can relate to. And when his guilt became too much for him, he drank himself to death.
I told myself I would never get to that point. Ever. But some habits bleed down the family tree.
If he knew what I've done, it would kill him all over again.
I've betrayed my brother. Alexander. The kid has only ever looked up to me. He's the baby in the family, and as Dad lost himself and Mom spiraled in reaction, I became some maternal figure for Alex, even in my partying days. Clay and Nick and Mom believe he wants to become a cop because of Dad. But I know Alex wants to become a cop because of me.
If he knew what I've done, it would destroy his dreams and his respect for me.
Most of all, I've betrayed Drake. Drake. My heart aches when I think of his handsome face and his kind, dark eyes. It kills me to admit that I've always loved him. First as friends, then in a close, partner way. But it's grown into more. That night we spent together in Pennsylvania will forever be with me. As will last night. If it weren't for the murders I've committed, I would throw away the vow I made. I would tell him how I feel and tell him that I want to be with him.
