I guess as far as I can think back, I had a tendency to watch. I couldn't say much. Couldn't participate. I wasn't welcome. This was my way of knowing the world.
I guess this night is how Johnny will learn about sex. Fuck. And this is why planning is fucking important. Vesper made me act on impulse with that whole proposal charade. Johnny's room doesn't have a lock. I only had so much rope. Carter was the threat, or at least so I thought. It turns out the closest I have ever been to everything falling apart was from the will of a disabled little boy.
I don't relish scaring kids. Besides, with his issues he wouldn't be going far even if he did wake. His little useless fingers can't work locks. But I made a massive error. I have never heard him make a sound. I thought he was completely mute.
I considered letting Vesper put Johnny back into his room until he started making this god-awful repetitive whining chant. Like an excited donkey. The little fucker was getting so loud that I was going to have to bail or silence him. The shit hit a new level of chaos when the fucking Prince of Sacramento decided he was going to try and save Vesper. It was too late for him to save the day anyway. I'd already been inside of her. But I didn't come. Fuck. Shit.
Every time I hit a house, I strive for perfection. I am always learning from my mistakes, adjusting for the next one. If I fuck up big time, I feel compelled to go out right away and make up for it. It makes me more frustrated so that I become more brutal in order to ensure compliance. I don't like when things don't go the way I planned. Ironically, while this was not the night I planned to enter, I had almost reached utter perfection. The complete fantasy coming to life. Where I completely infiltrate their lives in every facet. Not just getting into the home, eating their food, taking their things, taking away their power. But becoming the man of the house, taking the woman and making her come all over my cock like her man doesn't even exist.
Vesper creamed up my fingers and cock. I didn't even need lube. Despite her protests, I could feel her pussy swelling around me, her body getting taut. I could hear her moans were genuine, even though she was stifling them. We were right there. Right fucking there. And then the kid came in. And everything went to shit—fast.
I wouldn’t have hurt the kid. It's not like he could ID me or take me down. But, I would have killed her fiancé if he got out. I can't risk getting caught. His life is not worth my freedom.
Fortunately for me, it is worth hers.
The thought never crossed my mind to take her until she asked—begged. I don't do that. The destruction stays where I lay it. Nothing comes back with me that doesn't have to. That's how I have managed to do this for so long and completely outwit the cops. Hell, there's so many prowlers in this part of Cali, they're just starting to figure out which hits are mine. I've even got a media name now.
But this girl. I want more. I can't leave without finishing what we started. And then maybe, just maybe, I won't have to worry about what's next.
But this isn't in any plan. I haven't prepared for this. I never take risks. I run from them. I quit when things turn sideways. There's always another house. Another family. Another day. But there's not another Vesper. Just like she incited me earlier tonight, I act on impulse.
“Get up,” I say, pulling her to her feet. She's wobbly; an emotional mess. This boy has her in pieces. Maybe she truly does love him in a way I thought didn't exist. Or maybe she just thinks she's going to die.
I drag them both in the main bedroom and lock the door.
“He stays here,” I say.
Keeping one arm on Vesper, I slide out the window, then I pull her out, closing the window behind me so the kid can't even attempt to follow. I tuck into the hydrangeas and pull her down with me.
“If you scream, I'll stab you in the heart and leave you to die. They won't find me. But I will find your family. And I will kill them all. Understand?”
She nods her head. I stand up and look around. Carter's thudding against the bedroom door barely registers out in the yard. No one has heard anything. I pull her up and cover her mouth, digging the knife into her side, pressing it against her ribs so she understands I mean what I say.
Normally, I could easily hop the fences or use a stolen bike to get back to the canal, which is only three streets away, but she's a hell of a burden. This is why it's easier to go where the targets are instead of trying to move them from one location to another.
We shimmy sideways so I can lead her to the tall wooden fence that separates her house from her neighbor's, quietly lifting the squeaky latch so that we're in the neighbor's yard. We duck again behind some bushes. That's when she decides to go back on her deal. She knows her neighbors well (I've seen her chat them up on many occasions) and trusts they'll come save her. She thought she could draw me away from the guys, and then scream for help when she was closer to another house.