How I Could Just Kill a Man
Matt needed this.
Needed to feel the pavement under his boots and the tightening of his leather gloves as his hands clench into fists. Needed the feeling of his dark, light-weight jumpsuit covering him, keeping him hidden as he lurks in the shadows, tracking his prey.
It feels good to be in his element again.
Especially after the torrent of unfamiliar feelings exchanged between him and the tiny devil that now always occupies his mind. Things have been going really well with Bri-- almost too well. Of course, they still fought all the fucking time and Matt wanted to strangle her more times than not, but it usually led to the best sex he’s ever had and he couldn’t get enough of her.
They were still rolling with the no labels agreement, but they were both in a comfortable arrangement that seemed to be working so far. The pair still had their individual jobs and responsibilities to attend to, but any free time they had was spent with each other-- days were spent at Bri’s apartment, nights at Matt’s though only because he didn’t have a headboard that knocked annoyingly against the thin walls, and on the weekends they went to the club together. He noticed the questioning looks on Jack’s face, but neither of them was ready to say out loud what this was. It’s a good thing that Jack tends to mind his own business and isn’t one to push.
To be honest, though, there was a part of Matt that was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Right now, his biggest fear is that Bri would somehow find out his secret-- that she would see the beast barely contained beneath the surface and go fucking running the second that it rears its ugly head. This is exactly why he needs to take advantage of tonight; while she is away on some short promotional tour for the band and wouldn’t be back in his bed for at least another day.
It’s been weeks since Matt had acquired a new target. Weeks since he has felt someone go limp under his hands or his garrote. He was starting to feel itchy in his own skin, the need to watch someone’s last breath escape their lips bubbling underneath.
Yeah, he definitely needed this release.
The man he had been waiting for exits the bar with his arm wrapped around a dark-haired woman and it looked like he was trying to keep her stable as she stumbled on her heels. He couldn’t help but notice that the guy appeared to be walking just fine. The man taking someone home wasn’t ideal for Matt’s agenda, but he was going to have to make it work. A little horse tranquilizer out of his kill-pack would go a long way in making sure the petite thing didn’t wake up while Matt took care of her date. She would wake up alone with a hangover, thinking that she had just drunk too much the previous night and that her booty call simply left while she was sleeping. Fairly easy tracks to cover.
Matt’s heavy boots move forward with light steps, making very little sound under his weight as he follows the couple from a distance. Several blocks later, Matt’s steps slow when the dark-haired woman grabs her date’s hand and drags him into the nearby alleyway, disappearing under the dark cover.
Fucking great, it looks like they’re making a little detour down Tonsil Hockey Lane. This was going to cut into his time frame, Matt realizes as he checks his watch, noting that he only has about five hours until the sun rises. Not a lot of time to dispose of a body, but he could make it work if these horny assholes would just go back to one of their apartments and fuck already. Not wanting to lose his target, Matt quickly, but subtly, makes his way to the mouth of the alley, peering around the brick of the building to see the man towering over the woman’s small frame, hiding her behind his height, while he peppered kisses across her neck.
Leaning against the wall, Matt rests his head against the brick, so as not to be seen--he would just have to wait it out right here for the couple to finish dry-humping and exit the alley on their own. With nothing to do to pass the time, Matt can’t help but be reminded of the dark circles blooming across his own neck from his feisty little kitty’s fangs and he thinks about her pouty pink lips drifting over his skin. Suddenly, he finds himself missing Bri, a slight twinge shooting through his chest at her absence. He wondered what she was doing right now and if she missed him just as much.
Fuck, stop it, he berates his wandering mind, You’re on a job. Focus.
Peering around the corner again to see if they were going to come back out or exit the other end of the narrow path, Matt realizes that the man and woman were gone.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he whispers to himself, further irritation at them surfacing.
Rounding the brick corner, he shuffles toward the other side of the dumpster where he had last seen the couple. When he reaches the end of the steel container, Matt stops in tracks at the sight of the large man lying unconscious on the pavement, the woman nowhere in sight. He squats down to check the guy’s pulse, noting that it was still beating as confusion swarms his mind.
“What the fu--” Matt barely gets out before the sharp point of a blade presses into his carotid artery, causing him to go stock-still.
“Why are you following me?” a feminine voice asks as the blade digs in lightly, breaking the skin and allowing a drop of blood to trickle down the column of his neck.
