Page 12 of Little Ballerina

It was like a physical need. Like his body was literally crying out for her.

What was it about her that did that to him? He wasn't sure he really knew the answer to that question. He just knew that he craved her. He thought about her every morning when he climbed out of bed. He thought about her frequently throughout the day. He thought about her when he climbed into bed each night. And she often filled his dreams.

He had to have her.

Hewouldhave her.

Anything else was simply unacceptable.

He was pretty confident that his plan was foolproof. He knew Naomi. He knew what she was like, and she would not allow other people to die in her place. She would come to him. He didn’t doubt it. Her family might try and stop her, may even succeed in the short term, but she would come.

The anticipation was killing him.

To be in the same room as her again. To be able to look at her, listen to her, touch her. He had waited so long. But soon it would be over. Soon she would be back here.

She’d be angry. Furious. She would hate him for killing people to get to her.

The waitress had been a good first choice. Someone who Naomi knew, who she interacted with regularly, who she would be upset to see murdered, but not someone who was too close to her. He didn’t want to make her too angry too quickly. He wanted her, but he also wanted to enjoy the chase. He wanted to enjoy tormenting her. Make sure she knew that he was in control of her life, and the lives of those around her.

Guilt.

That was how he would destroy her.

Guilt would eat her alive. Tearing away at every little piece of her until she had no choice but to give up and come to him.

He’d been watching her for a long time now. He knew her routines. He knew everyone in her circle of friends. He knew just where to jab at her to cause her the most amount of pain.

He knew what he was doing.

He had a plan, and he wouldn’t to deviate from it.

He was completely impassioned with the notion of killing so-called innocent people just to get to Naomi. Theoretically, nothing was stopping him from just grabbing her. Going to her home in the middle of the night or ambushing her as she went about her day-to-day life. The only reason he hadn’t done it was that he wasn't entirely sure that Naomi wouldn’t just shoot him on the spot. She was smart and strong and paid attention to detail. Pouncing on her wouldn’t have been easy, so he had decided to play it safe and lure her into his web.

That innocent people would die was no big deal. He didn’t believe they deserved death, nor did he particularly feel like they didn’t. He didn’t really feel anything about it at all. Killing Nicole Carmichael hadn’t made him feel a thing. It was simply a task to complete in order to achieve his goal, and he had approached it as such. He approached the task as thoroughly as he approached any other. Preparing beforehand, figuring out the most effective way of achieving it, and working through each step. He had decided the alley was the perfect location, found the best way in and out was through the empty building backing onto it, made sure to leave no trace of himself behind, and ensure no one had cause to look at him twice. He certainly didn’t want to double back and take out a pesky witness who saw too much.

His focus was Naomi.

And he knew who was next on his list.

He would keep circling in, getting closer and closer to her until she had no choice but to surrender.

Surrender and come walking straight into his waiting arms.

And once he had her, he wasneverletting her go.

She would be his forever.

* * * * *

8:23 P.M.

Naomi woke slowly, feeling groggy and disoriented.

Where was she?

Something had startled her awake.

No, someonehad startled her awake.