Airel: The Discovering (Airel Saga Book Two)

Chapter VII

Boise, Idaho—Present Day

STAN THE MAN GIGGLED like a little girl, cleared his throat, and adjusted his sunglasses. “I am a fan of your little plan, Stan the Man,” he said cheerily. He repeated it again and again. It was a stupid little rhyme, but he needed it. He wanted it. He was the man, especially with his latest prize knocking around in the trunk. He had the world by the tail.

It had been enjoyable, his time with Lopez. The detective had been so very trusting, after all; it made the irony so very delicious. He actually thought that I would let him go after he told me what I wanted to know. That boggled what was left of his mind.

“Let me out, you pervert.” The voice in the trunk was angry, sure. But there was fear there … and innocence, too. Stan loved innocence, loved to misuse it, turn it back on itself.

The detective had been last—the enjoyment of that moment would live on in infamy with Stan. He had gorged himself on blood lust, on his poetic desire to manipulate and target the innocent. He preferred to kill first those who did not deserve to die, preferably with someone watching—someone whose pain would drive them mad before he finally showed them to the edge of the grave and turned them loose within it.

Stan giggled again. That’s just what happened to Lopez. He had been so very helpful. And Stan the Man was sated now. His mind was at peace, and all was right with the world. And all was going right as well. The address that he had taken from the detective, the Mexican bandito, was just as good as gold. He had made his score, all right.

The voice came from the trunk again. “You know what I’m gonna do when I get out of here ...” It thrashed in the trunk like a drowning kitten; all screeches and howls, nothing more. The louder she screamed, the better he felt. “I’ll tell everyone; the police, my school, the news, my mom—they’ll be very interested in a middle-aged pervert who kidnapped a high school student.”

Silence. She was thinking it over. Stan drove on.

“You think you’re going to get away with this? You’re crazy.”

Stan was smug, and he smirked. He spoke calmly, soothingly. “Yell all you want, Kim. Where you’re going, no one will ever hear you.” He spoke in a sing-song voice. “Screaming will only get you a slower and much more painful death.”

That shut her up. Stupid kid.