Chapter 37

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HIS HEART WAS BEATING FASTER THAN ADVISABLE. This was the moment he had waited for. All the years and all the planning would not be wasted. They would come to their fruition today. See what all the papers would say about him now. And he'd walk away from all of it. He had a back-up plan. He knocked on the front door, and not long later the door opened. "Hello Evelyn."

He motioned forward. Evelyn moved backward into the house, letting him come in. He closed the door behind them.

"What are you doing here? It's the middle of the afternoon. And why are you calling me Evelyn?" Her words dissipated to silence. She must have noticed there was something different about his eyes. Her mouth opened.

He grabbed her and put his hand over her mouth. "I wouldn't think of it." She tried to maneuver so she could get a grip on his hand with her teeth, but it lay too flat over her mouth.

She struggled to speak, but all he heard was mumbled words. And the satisfaction that came with that. She would listen to him.

"I'm going to let you go. I want you to sit on the couch and shut up. Not one word." He spoke so closely into her ear she could probably feel his spittle. She nodded.

He let go, and she screamed. He cuffed her across the face. "Mother, disappointing." He shook his head. "Look what you made me do. Now, your beautiful face is marred." He fought off the sinister smirk he had growing inside from knowing the happiness, the joy, and the elation, that would come in the final moment.

Tears streamed down her face as she held a hand to her cheek, trying to soothe the burning skin. "Why are you doing this?" Her voice cracked.

She was distressed and he couldn't feel any better—such a beautiful, contrasting irony. It only took her unhappiness, her grief, her fear, to make him whole, to make him happy.

"Well, you brought this upon yourself." He sat down on the coffee table in front of the sofa she was sitting on, leaned in toward her.

"You're scaring me."

"I'm scaring you? Wow, and I'm not trying." His words were dry, riddled with sarcasm. "Life is about justice, and today I will create my own."

She bit on her bottom lip, her chin quivering like a fish fillet frying in oil. "I would say I'm sorry..." She stopped speaking. More tears poured down her face.

He didn't say a word, nor could he allow hers to sink in. He had to fight for the courage to remain strong in front of her. She could never know he was flaking apart inside, his emotions tearing at him. But it was too late to turn back now. He had come here with a purpose, and he would follow through.

Her voice was so low, he barely heard her words through his thoughts. "Why?" He refused to look at her, but could tell she was crying again.

A single tear slid down his cheek, but he was quick to wipe it with the back of his hand. He was relieved to see she had cupped her and hadn't seen his sign of weakness.

She sat mere feet away from him. He moved in closer still.

He was near enough that she reached a hand out to caress his cheek. The affectionate gesture only served to enrage him. He took her hand and flung it off him. "Don't touch me. You have no damn right to touch me!" He pulled up on her hair, forcing her from the couch.

"Leave. No one has to know about this. Ethan..."

Hearing his name from her lips transformed his anger into serenity. He knew he was positioning himself to go through with it. The other murders had elicited the same reaction, a calm sensation that slowed his heartbeat.

The flash came up in her eyes, her mouth opened to scream as she started into a run.

He pursued her, grabbed her by the back of her t-shirt, and pulled back on her so hard she fell to the floor. He mounted himself over her, her legs pinned under his body. Her arms punched, pulled, and pushed on him trying to free herself—to no avail. He wouldn't budge. He'd waited too long for this. Looking down on her, he felt nothing. Nothing but revenge. Adrenaline rushed though him, and he experienced the euphoria that came with it. She would finally pay for telling him how things would be, for directing his life like a puppet on a string.

Suddenly, for seemingly no reason at all, she lost the fight in her. Her arms became motionless over her head where he pinned them. The crying paused. He followed the direction of her eyes. She had noticed the tie he wore.

"You killed those girls..."

He smirked. He felt so much pride at this moment. The papers exposed his killing method after the Asian. Now his work was recognizable. He said nothing as he yanked the tie from his neck.

"Why...why did you do it?"

"A mother doesn't need to know everything."

Her arms fought against him again. He had to find a way to restrain her arms so he could get the job done. He saw no other way. His eyes fell to her welted cheek. He released one of her hands and went to punch her. It had been an unexpected response to the Asian raising her mace sprayer, but it had proven effective. As his fist was in motion, she spit out words that would haunt him. "I loved you." But it was too late to stop the movement of his arm. The blow caused her eyes to roll backward, and her head fell to the side.

He pulled her arms down and maneuvered them beneath him as he positioned himself over the upper part of her torso. He wrapped the tie around her neck. As he did, he felt a stab of heartbreak. Her last words ricocheting in his mind, I loved you. Why now, why had it taken so long to tell him that? He choked back the urge to cry.

This murder was becoming more personal to him than he had ever anticipated. The others had been easier kills by comparison. He had built himself up, convincing himself that she deserved this fate. His eyes settled on his unconscious mother.

He could leave. He could walk out of there, disappear, and leave everything behind. No one ever had to know...no one ever had to know. That sounded ludicrous. Of course people would know. She wouldn't keep her mouth shut. She was a proud woman, and she'd see him fall.

He tightened the tie and pulled it tighter. She came to like the Asian had. Those moments flashed back through his mind. Her eyes bulged, pleading with him. His mother's arms tried to move under him but were powerless. He pulled tighter, feeling her body tense up underneath him, and then the arms stopped moving.

MADISON COULDN'T GET THE CAR to the address fast enough, even with the lights flashing. They never garnered the same attention in an undercover car. Back-up was to meet up with them at the house.

"We're going to get him." Her cell phone rang and she answered. "Knight..." She hung up and screeched the car into a full U-Turn.

Terry was mumbling and grabbed for the front dash. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Shit, shit, shit!" She hit her palms on the steering wheel before glancing at her partner. "We're too late."

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