Chapter 13: Idle Threats

Anya had no idea what time it was when she arrived back at the station. All she knew was she wasn't the least bit tired. There would be plenty of time for sleep when the case was solved. Right now, that husky was going to answer her questions and tell her how he stumbled onto the plot to kill Brent Caldwell.

“Corázon, my office. Now."

Anya tensed when the captain called her name. She had hoped to get a few minutes alone with David before facing the ax, but Captain Stone had other plans.

She nodded to George, signaling for him continue without her and went into the captain's office. As she fought the feeling that was a child being called into the principal's office, she felt the eyes of her fellow detectives on the back of her head.

Captain Joseph Stone was a badger who barely stood higher than five feet, and covered in thinning black fur. His body was thin as well, his slightly baggy clothing an obvious sign he was losing weight as well as his fur. It made him look like a child playing dress-up. Even still, he was force to be reckoned with. In his glory days, he was fierce. He still held the record for the most collars in a single month. Most rookie cops still aspired to be like he was. Nowadays, his appearance didn't exactly scream, hero cop, but there wasn't anyone wearing a badge that didn't respect him.

There wasn't anything about the office that made it stand out, but that somehow added to the strong feeling of authority the place gave off. The lack of personal decorations gave the impression that the job came first before anything else. Anya stood at the captain's desk and listened with dread as the door was closed behind her.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?" Captain Stone asked his voice calm yet firm like a scolding parent. “What part of stay away from David Somerson did you not understand?"

“I'm sorry, Cap, but he's a valuable witness in a triple homicide that just took place," Anya replied in what she hoped was a brave voice. “And also, I haven't been anywhere near David since you gave the order. We only spoke over the phone, and he called me. Admittedly, I should've given you a heads up when he called in that tip, but I felt there was no time for an explanation."

“Now's not the time for being a wise-ass," Captain Stone growled. “You're good at your job, but that doesn't give you free reign to play fast and loose with the rules. I already have the Chief of D's breathing down my neck because word has gotten around your little ghost theory."

Anya chewed the inside of her cheek and remained silent. She never claimed ghosts were involved, but now was not the time to talk back. She would be lucky if she was allowed to keep her badge.

“I was even nice enough to give you a chance to pursue your little theory to make sure things moved smoothly," Stone continued. “Instead, a murderer might walk, we're the laughing stock of the entire department, and my authority is being called into question." He stepped forward, his eyes dark and menacing. The tips of his ears just reached to the bottom of Anya's chin, but she still felt nervous. “You disobeyed a direct order, disappeared all day, had a stakeout without clearing it with me, and at the end of the day you have three victims, no suspects, no leads, and your only witness is already the prime suspect for two other murders."

“With all due respect, Captain. We don't have anything tying David to Lori Price or Samson Thomas," Anya said, bracing herself for the backlash of her defiance. But this needed to be said. “And if David hadn't called in that tip, it would've been days if not weeks before those bodies were discovered. We already confirmed on scene that Miriam Sloane was likely killed before we arrived. Brent Caldwell was dead the moment he went inside; there's no way we could've known."

The Captain stared at her, the look in his eyes indicating he was looking for a hole in her explanation. His thin fur bristled as he let out a tired sigh. “Anya, that is the only reason you're not facing another suspension. But this is your last chance. You strike out on this, and I'll be taking your shield. Now go solve your case."

Anya nodded before quickly leaving, the Captain's threat leaving her thoughts the moment she crossed the threshold. All she cared about was solving the case. Her career didn't matter. Only stopping the murders mattered, and she didn't care how far she had to do it. If tanking her career was the only way to solve this case, then so be it.

One way or another, David was going to give her something useful before he left this building.

She found George standing outside the interrogation room, watching the husky through the window. David's head was down, so she couldn't see his face. But the way his tail twitched and how he tapped his fingers on the table gave away his anxiety.

“What's going on? Did he lawyer up?" Anya asked.

“No. He said he wants to talk to you. Alone," George replied, his growling voice deeper than usual. “He's been quiet ever since."

“I guess I'd better get started then. You should talk to his friend, Stephanie. See what you can get out of her."

She entered the interrogation room, gently closing the door behind her. David's ears still perked up and he lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot, his fur looked worse than ever, his clothes were wrinkled and disheveled as if he had gotten dressed in a hurry.

“Brent's dead isn't he?" he asked, his voice dry and cracked.

“Yeah, he is." She moved her chair closer to David's and sat down. “Now how about you tell me how you knew he was going to die?"

David swallowed, and his eyes widened. “I… can't."

Anya sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder, fighting against the urge to give it a hard squeeze. He doesn't look like very stable. I'll have to be gentle if I'm going to get anything useful out of him.  

“David, don't start that. You told me over the phone you would explain everything. If you know something, it's okay to say so. Are you afraid of what's going to happen if you tell? We can protect you."

“You'll think I'm crazy."

“I once had a suspect who told me his goldfish convinced him to commit murder. I doubt you could do worse than that."

A small smile appeared on David's face, but it quickly faded. “Okay, for the last few weeks I've been on a website called Chatline. I talked to some guy—or who I assume is a guy—named Eric. He's the one behind it."

Anya's brow rose. All this time, it was David using this Eric person to commit the murders? It seemed unlikely It answered a lot of questions, but something still felt off. “So, you told Eric you wanted to hurt Brent?"

David shook his head. “I just said Brent was bothering me. I never said I hated him or that I wanted anything to happen to him."

“So how do you know Eric is behind it?"

“He said he was surprised nothing had happened to Brent for setting me up at work," David said. “This isn't the first time Eric killed someone. There's at least twelve people that I know of."

Anya felt all the air rush out of her lungs. “Hold on. Did you just say Eric has killed at least twelve other people?"

David's ears dropped and he stared at the table. “I-I found out that there at least 12 other people I know who've died in the last year including Oliver. There could be more—I don't know."

Anya stood up and approached the gated window. She had to take several deep breaths to keep her composure. This was worse than she thought. There were a few holes in his story, but assuming David was telling the truth, it meant there was a serial killer running loose. She had expected something, but never this. Her mind swarmed with questions: How did David know any of this? Did Eric confess? How did Eric choose his victims? Why hasn't he been on anyone's radar until now?

She took one last deep breath then went back to David, speaking as gently as possible. “David, I need you to think really hard before you answer this next question. Are you certain that Eric is the one responsible?"

“He never outright said it, but I know it was him."

“That's not good enough. What you're suggesting is serious, so I'm gonna need more to go on than, 'I just know.' "

David looked down at the table. Anya noticed he was clenching his fists in his lap. “I-I know because I told Eric that people were bothering me. So far, the only people who've gotten hurt are the ones I complained about online. He didn't go after Brent or Oliver until I talked about them and gave him the green light."

“Are you saying that you ordered hits on people?"

David shook his head again. “I never once said I wanted anyone dead," he said, his voice breaking. “But that doesn't change that I told Eric about these people. I put them on his radar."

“David, Brent Caldwell was killed by the husband whose wife he had an affair with. We've had a team going over every inch of the house all night, and we found no evidence of a third party. Unless you're saying you helped him do it, I don't see how that's your fault."

David snatched his head up and turned to Anya with wide eyes. “Wait. Brent was killed by… by"—he swallowed and gripped the edges of the table.—“a human, right? Large guy, most likely overweight?"

Anya's brow rose. When she suggested David played a role in Brent's death, she wasn't serious. “Yeah," she said slowly.

“And his wife. She's a redhead? Looks a little younger than she actually is and a bit immature?"

Anya thought back to the journal entry they found in Richard Sloane's pocket. Immature wasn't too bad an assumption to make about Miriam. “David, how do you know that?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly. Her palms felt sweaty. She wiped them on the back of her jeans while David looked down at his feet as if the answers were written on his sneakers. She wondered if the sweat and the shaking in her voice was from fear or frustration. Granted, frustration never made her palms sweat, but something in her screamed she wasn't going to like what David said next.

David finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… can't. You won't believe me."

“David, what did I tell you? No matter what you have to say, I've heard worse. It's okay. You can tell me."

He swallowed and faced her, looking like a child who was about to admit to breaking something. “I-I saw it… in a dream."

It took everything Anya had to keep from hitting him. Turned out she was wrong after all: he did do worse. Even if she believed him, what was she supposed to do with that? She couldn't investigate a dream, and no judge would allow a dream testimony in court.

When she didn't respond, David said, “I said you would think I was crazy."

“Well, what the hell did you expect? I can't investigate a dream. Now, tell me what really happened."

“I already told you what happened."

“David, this 'dream' story isn't gonna fly," Anya said, her voice rising.

“I can prove it. The woman died first. Her husband found her in the bedroom and stabbed her to death with a pair of scissors. Brent came in a little while later. The man tried to ambush him. Stabbed him in the side, but Brent got away. He chased Brent into the kitchen where he killed him.

“I saw it—all of it—through the eyes of the woman's husband. Now before you say I was there, I was in Carol's apartment, sleeping. Then I was arrested for something I didn't even do, so I spent the afternoon in the police station. There's no way I could've been there."

He stood up, his fur standing on end. “I can't explain why I dreamt about it, but Eric did something. I can't explain how. All he said was that Brent was going to get what was coming to him. That's all I know."

Anya just stared at him. She couldn't think of anything to say. True or not, he believed what he was saying. He was standing by his story no matter how crazy it sounded. Part of her wanted to have the husky committed to a psychiatric ward, but small part of her knew he wasn't lying. If he wanted to throw them off, he would have a much better story, and how else could she explain it?

A knock on the door snatched Anya back into reality. She left the room without saying anything. Captain Stone was standing in the other room, wearing an expression as if he just ate spoiled meat.

“Did I just hear what I think I did?" Captain Stone asked. “This guy not only thinks he's some kind of psychic, but also claiming some random user on the internet is killing people?"

Anya hung her head, her cheeks burning with shame. “Captain, I had no idea—"

“I know you didn't," Stone replied, his voice surprisingly calm. “This guy is clearly off his meds. I'll make some calls and verify his alibi while you see if George got anything useful out of his 'girlfriend.' "

“Captain, he's not lying," Anya said. “If he wanted to lie, he would've come up with a much stronger alibi, or at least one that isn't so easy to disprove."

Stone's brow rose. “You almost sound like you're buying into his story. We already know what happened: Stephanie Lodes killed them and told David all about it."

“But why cook up this dream then?" Anya asked, her voice rising. “There are a thousand better stories they could've cooked-up. And what about the other twelve victims? If David's right—"

“That husky is out of his damn mind!"

“—then we could be looking at a serial killer. At least let us look into the other twelve people David mentioned."

The Captain was quiet for a moment. Anya couldn't blame him. On one hand, he truly believed David was crazy, but on the other, if even a fraction of David's story was true, it meant there was a serial killer running loose.

Once word got out, it would be all over the press, and the department would be shamed for not noticing it sooner. It could easily hurt relations between the police force and the public which was already fragile.

But Anya didn't care. There was no way to avoid shame anyway. If they ignored this, they were potentially putting lives at risk. One way or another, this case needed to be solved, regardless of the consequences.

So long as there was even the possibility of another suspect, Anya had no intention of using David as a scapegoat.

Captain Stone must had noticed it because he sighed and said, “Fine. Go talk to the girlfriend. I'll get someone else to look into this other twelve victims business."

It wasn't exactly what Anya wanted, but at least Stone was taking it seriously. She would take that as a win. She nodded and headed for the room where George was talking to the other suspect.

When Anya arrived outside the window of the second interrogation room where George was questioning Stephanie Lodes, she was a little surprised to find the cinnamon-furred rabbit leaning against the far wall, arms folded across her chest, staring out of the window. George was standing as well, leaning on the table and staring daggers at her.

She's either confident she won't get caught, or she doesn't give a damn, Anya thought. Instead of going inside, she chose to listen in on their conversation on the intercom.

“Look, Stephanie, we already know your boyfriend, David, was involved," George said. “Just tell us what you know, and I can talk to the D.A. on your behalf."

Stephanie gave a short, hollow laugh. “I have a cousin who's a cop. I'm not stupid; you'll say something, but we both know you don't have the final say."

Anya couldn't help but smile. This one wasn't half as stupid as she believed.

“You're right, but since your cousin's a cop that means you also know that confessing now will mean fewer years on your sentence," George argued.

Stephanie turned away from the window, her ears raised. “Years? Years for what?"

“For the murder of three people—one of which is your old boss."

The confidence drained from Stephanie's face. “H-Hold on. Brent's dead, and you think I killed him? No. I had nothing to do with that. And what other two people are you talking about? I haven't killed anybody!"

“Oh, now you're going to pretend you don't know? Stephanie, we know you didn't like Brent; you don't need to hide it. We also know you and David followed him." George moved closer to Stephanie and lowered his voice, but Anya could still hear every word. “Look, I know what its like working for a boss you can't stand. Sometimes, our emotions get the better of us, and we say things we don't mean. You didn't want your boss dead. It was an accident. You just wanted something to teach him a lesson, right? After the way he treated David, treated you, it's not wrong that you wanted payback. But when you got there, things didn't go as planned. When you saw him again, you just couldn't hold back the anger."

Stephanie's ears fell and she began shaking her head. She stared at George in disbelief. Anya wasn't sure what to make of the rabbit's reaction. It looked like George was wearing her down. Despite the low rumble in his voice, her partner could be quite persuasive.

“You're wrong," Stephanie whispered.

“Then tell me what happened," George said. “It's okay if it was an accident. You weren't trying to kill Brent, but David took things too far. Then you had to silence Miriam because she was a witness. There was nothing you could do. I'm certain the DA will cut you a deal if you agree to testify against David."

George had said the wrong thing. Anya could see it in Stephanie's eyes. The rabbit no longer looked scared or confused.

“David didn't kill anyone, and neither did I," she said flatly.

Anya tapped on the glass before George could ask another question. Her partner looked very annoyed to be interrupted, but he quickly met Anya in the other room.

“What's going on?" he asked.

“She won't talk now," Anya replied with a tired sigh. “The moment you mentioned turning on David, she got her confidence back."

“I still think I can get through to her."

“C'mon, partner, she sees you as the enemy, and you know it. Let me talk to her. Maybe I can get through to her."

George mulled over the answer before saying, “Fine. She's all yours."

Anya went inside the interrogation room. Stephanie had moved to the chair by the table. She glanced up with a dark look when Anya entered the room. The rabbit seemed disappointed upon seeing someone else. “So now we're playing 'good cop, bad cop?' "

“We're not playing anything," Anya said. She dropped into the other chair and folded her arms across her chest. “I have a long list of victims and no patience for games. So, how'd you know about the affair?"

Stephanie pointed at her long ears. “I pick up a lot of things I wish I didn't. I overheard him talking on the phone."

“So you're saying that not a lot of people knew about it?"

“I don't know what anyone else knew. If they did, they didn't speak on it. Brent was the kind of boss we made a point of not pissing off."

Anya pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, here's what I don't understand: You and David are friends. You had the perfect leverage, but you didn't use it to protect David from your boss. Why?"

Anya saw the look in Stephanie's eyes as she mulled over her answer. It was clear Stephanie had asked herself the same question and felt guilty for not standing up for him.

After a few minutes of silence, Stephanie spoke again, “I didn't want to get David in any more trouble."

“Why would David get in trouble?"

“We all knew about the case. I didn't want to do anything that could be used against David. Blackmail is illegal. If I started threatening Brent and word got out, they could blame David for it. I didn't want to risk that."

“Or maybe that's the lie you tell yourself," Anya said calmly.

Stephanie frowned. “You got a better explanation?"

“You had doubts about whether David was guilty or not. When you found leverage to use against your boss, you kept it to yourself and kept your head down in case you needed it."

Stephanie's ears fell and she turned away. Anya took that as a sign she was on the right track. She actually felt sorry for David. “I'm gonna be straight with you Stephanie. I don't think you killed Brent. Even if you informed Richard of the affair, that wouldn't make you an accomplice unless you knew he would kill her."

“If you don't think I killed anyone, then why am I here?" Stephanie asked.

“Does the name Eric mean anything to you?"

Stephanie tilted her head in confusion. “Who?"

“Eric," Anya repeated. “Do you know anyone by that name? Maybe someone who uses that name as an alias or a nickname?"

Stephanie slowly shook her head. “No, I don't know anyone by that name. What does he have to with this?"

“I can't discuss that. Just please let me know if you hear anything involving someone with that name." She rose from her seat and went over to the door. “Stephanie Lodes, you're free to go."

Stephanie didn't hesitate to hurry out of the room. George stared at Anya in shock as she led the rabbit out of the station. Anya braced herself for the backlash when she went back to her desk.

George was waiting by her desk and began bombarding her with questions before she could sit down. “Anya, what the hell was that? Why did you let her go? How do you know she had nothing to do with this? Who is Eric?"

Anya put her face in her hands and sighed. She was playing a dangerous game letting Stephanie go like that, but she knew the rabbit wasn't involved. She was certain George knew it as well.

“First, Stephanie had no reason to kill Brent," Anya said. “She could've killed his career at any time; she didn't need to resort to murder."

“Maybe the murder was an accident. If she told about the affair, but had no idea of the outcome—"

“Second," Anya interjected quickly. “David told me about the murder. He described the crime scene right down to where the bodies were found, but there was no way he could've been there to see it. You saw the way Stephanie reacted when you told her Brent was dead. Either she had no idea or she's the greatest actor I've ever seen."

George opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again. He then opened his mouth a second time, but again fell silent. Finally, he sank into the chair behind his desk and looked at Anya confused.

“I don't understand. You said David couldn't have been there, but he knew what the crime scene looked like?" George asked.

“I don't believe it, and I heard it out of his mouth."

“So this Eric person is the one doing the murders? What about Luther Creed? Are we still looking at him as a suspect?"

Anya had to think on an answer. On one hand, she didn't completely believe David's story. On the other, she had nothing proving David was wrong. “Let's keep him on the list of suspects for now. This man paid someone to fabricate photos, and I think he either killed Samson or knew he was dead already just to make David look guilty. You don't put in that kind of effort unless you've made it your life's mission to see them burn."

“Makes sense. Honestly, that everything points back to David makes me skeptical," George said. “It's a little odd that we have yet to tie him to a single crime scene. Either someone's fucking with us or this guy's a criminal genius and he's fucking with us. Either way, I'm sick of being toyed with."

“So what do you suggest we do, George?"

“Turn him loose," Captain Stone said. Both of them were startled by his sudden appearance.

Anya spun to protest, but seeing the look on the Captain's face caused her to fall silent. He looked pale beneath his black fur, and his eyes no longer carried the grizzled look they were known for.

She didn't need to ask to understand why he was so rattled. The only explanation was he just confirmed David's alibi.

“I just got orders," Stone said, his voice heavy as if tired and disappointed. “First, cut the husky loose. Next, you are to stay away from him."

“But Captain—" Anya began.

“I said, you are to stay away. Finally, the Price case is off-limits. Until we get this mess sorted out, we can't afford to ruin any more cases."

Anya silently nodded in agreement while planning how she was going to disobey the captain's order. Lori Price's name came up for last three victims and she was certain that was no coincidence. She was done ignoring the obvious because of orders. She could pay the consequences later.

She volunteered to tell David he was free to go.

****

David didn't know what to think when he saw Anya again. He knew the truth was stretch, and his blurting out the explanation instead of finding a better way to phrase it didn't help matters. Why? Why the hell did I think telling her I was some kind of psychic was going to end well? he wondered.

If she was judging him, it didn't show in her face, but he was relieved when she told him to write down the names of the other people Eric supposedly killed. Afterwards she told him he was free to leave. He hurried outside as fast as he could, avoiding any eye-contact with everyone he passed.

He needed to get home as quickly as possible. Eric would know by now that the cops had picked him up, and he needed to be prepared for what he was going to say next. His plan to trap Eric failed in the worst way possible. He couldn't afford to give that psycho any more names. But if he did that, Eric would be upset. He needed to plan for that, but how? Right now, Eric had the upper hand. The cops weren't even a hundred percent certain he was involved.

It felt as if a lump had been lodged in David's throat. There was no other way. Until he found a way to convince the police Eric was a threat, there was no other way except to play friendly. If Eric went underground, there would be no catching him, and he could resurface at any time, anywhere, and no one would ever know until it was too late.  

“Hey, David!"

He lifted his head to find Stephanie standing on the sidewalk outside the station, waving him over.

He wanted to be happy to see her, but with everything going on, he doubted he would ever feel happy again. “H-Hi. It's good to see you. I was a little worried they didn't let you go."

“They told me they didn't think I had anything to do with Brent's murder, and cut me loose," she replied, shrugging. “I'm glad to see you made it out. They seemed bent on pinning the whole thing on you."

No, I killed him, he told himself. I was there. I felt the scissors in my hand, I felt their warm blood on me, I—

His stomach churned and the thoughts vanished from his mind. Brent died exactly how dreamt it, but how? What was happening to him? Was he losing his mind?

David forced a smile and said, “Hey, you want to get something to eat?"

“Of course. I remember seeing a bakery on the way here. We could check it out."

They started walking down the street with her leading the way. David dragged his feet, hoping to stall for as long as possible. Stephanie was at risk being around him. Eric was stalking him, Luther was determined to make his life a living hell, the police were likely watching him, and on top of that, he felt he was losing his sanity. It was a miracle she had gone this long without being affected.  

He swallowed and dug his nails into his palm. He needed to do this, but she had to stay away because she wanted to. He'd rather be alone, knowing she was safe than risk putting her risk so he would have someone to talk to. “So, what did you tell the police?" he asked coldly.

Stephanie raised a brow at him. “Um, nothing. What could I possibly have told them? I know you didn't do anything wrong."

“Just making sure. You used to have a big mouth back at work."

“I'm gonna chalk that one up to being woken up in the middle of the night by the cops," she said. It was clear she was fighting her irritation.

David fought the twisting feeling in his gut. “Did you know Brent was setting me up? Last time, you said you didn't know what his problem was, but something happens and you're prime suspect number two."

Stephanie stopped walking and faced him. “A-Are you trying to blame me for this?"

Seeing the pain in her face made him want to take back everything he just said. Instead he gritted his teeth and said, “Well, someone had to tell the cops about the fight between Brent and me."

“So, we're just ignoring everyone else we've worked with who've spent the last couple of months bad-mouthing you?"

“Oh, I expect it from them, but youu were brought down to the station. They wouldn't do that unless they thought they could flip you."

“And we're both standing out here, so what does that tell you?" Stephanie cried.

He knew exactly what it told him. She didn't talk, so they were cut loose because the cops had no reason to hold either of them.

“It tells me that I shouldn't be so quick to trust you," David yelled back. Something was different. Suddenly, his voice sounded foreign to him, and it felt like his mouth was moving on its own. The words leaving his mouth were lies, but they felt genuine as if his distrust toward Stephanie was real. “One minute, we can't be friends. The next, you suddenly feel sorry for me and want to be friends again. Now you want to hang out, no strings attached."

Okay, you made your point, now shut the hell up, he thought. The look on Stephanie's face made his chest hurt.

His mouth kept moving anyway. “Don't try to deny it. You suddenly took an interest in my relationship with Lori, probing me to talk about it. I wasn't supposed to notice that or did you think coming on to me was supposed to distract me? If flirting didn't work all the time we've known each other, what the hell made you think I would want you now?"

Stephanie punched him in the jaw. He grunted and staggered backward, clutching his wounded muzzle. He faced her, fearing she would continue her assault, but she still stood there, fists clenched at her side. Several people had stopped on the sidewalk or even slowed down in their cars to watch. He knew he should be angry she had hit him, but there was no denying he asked for it.

“I guess, I see how it—"

She rushed torward him and he fell silent. He didn't try to run or defend himself. He would take whatever punishment she would dish out.

Instead of feeling the sharp sting of another punch, he felt her arms wrap gently around him. Several muffled groans could be heard from the bystanders, disappointed in the anti-climactic ending. His arms hung limp at his sides as he stared straight ahead.

“What are you—?"

“Shut up. I can't believe you. You're being blamed for another murder and everything is falling apart around you, but you still think you need to look out for me. What is wrong with you?"

David couldn't even pretend to be angry with her anymore. He sighed and returned the hug. “If you knew that then why did you hit me?"

“I did that because you were acting like a dick. But this"—she punched him in the arm—“is because you thought acting like a dick would work."

David rubbed his sore arm. “Sorry, Steph. I'm sorry about all of this. I didn't want you getting dragged into this, but you needed to hate me in order for it to work."

Stephanie placed a hand on his shoulder. “David, even when I decided we couldn't hang out anymore, I was still being dragged into this. That's why I asked if we could be friends again. I don't think anyone cares if we're actually together or not. They're still talking about us. Besides, I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

David placed his hand on hers and squeezed. He wanted to thank her for her help. He wanted to tell her how happy he was to hear her say that she waned to stand by him.

But he couldn't. Between Eric and Luther anyone connected to him was a target—a pawn—in a sick game. He couldn't allow anything to happen to Stephanie, not now. But even wanting to push her away, there was no denying her logic. He had no idea who Richard and Miriam Sloane were before today and they were dragged into it. There was no such thing as safe. At least this way, he could keep an eye on Stephanie, keep her safe.

The same way you kept Brent safe from Eric? his mind asked.

He ignored the thought. This was different. Eric wouldn't dare touch Stephanie.

“So who's Eric?" Stephanie asked.

David's stomach dropped. "W-What…did you say?"

“I said, who is Eric? That Detective mentioned he had something to do with you and Brent. I don't know anyone by that name. Is he a friend of yours?"

“He's no friend of mine," David growled.

Stephanie's ears fell. “Sorry. I just figured you knew who that was."

David growled and spun on her, seizing her by the shoulders. “You stay away from him, understand? If you get any strange messages online or on your phone, just delete them, okay?"

Stephanie stare back with wide eyes and didn't answer. David growled and shook her.

“I said, do you understand?!"

Stephanie quickly nodded, resembling a large, furry bobblehead. Her response satisfied David and he let her go.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just…I don't know who Eric is, I just know he's dangerous."

“N-No, I got it. I'll be careful. Just remember to take your own advice. I don't think this guy is your friend. If Eric did kill Brent, I don't think he did it for your benefit."

David already knew that. He still hadn't figured out what Eric's game was,, but he had a feeling he wasn't the one benefiting in the end. “I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, L-Stephanie."

His tail ducked between his legs as he fought to keep his shame from showing in his face. Did he really just almost call Stephanie, Lori? Hopefully Stephanie didn't catch the slip.

The uncomfortable silence between them, and the way she refused to make eye contact said she did. David's stomach did a full somersault as he racked his mind for a way to fix things. Should he apologize? Stephanie hadn't mentioned it, so would be better to ignore it?

Stephanie smiled politely, her ears flat against her back.  “Y-You're probably busy and tired and want to get home and sleep. I'll see you later."

David nodded and began the long trip back to his apartment. The entire trip home he tried to focus on something—anything—other than how he hurt Stephanie after he stopped trying to.

****

Once David made it back to his apartment, he thought the guilt would've passed, or he would've found some way to make peace with today's events, but he had been wrong.

No matter how hard David tried to explain otherwise, his action had gotten three more people killed. That made five people in total three of which had nothing to do with his situation. The thought made him sick to his stomach. When he thought about getting back at those who made his life a nightmare, he hadn't expected a body count.

Well, that's what happens when you don't take matters into your own hands. If you had taken care of it yourself, only the ones who truly deserved it would pay, a voice in the back of his mind said. It didn't feel like the typical ramblings of his conscience. It felt more like it was being whispered into his ear by someone else.  

He pushed the voice out of his mind and shuffled into the bedroom. Exhaustion had finally caught up with him, and his thoughts were thankfully focusing on getting some sleep. He was afraid of closing his eyes again after the last nightmare, but he doubted his body gave a damn. His legs steered him to the bedroom on their own, and his arms began the process of removing his clothes. The moment his body hit the mattress, his eyes closed.

At that moment, his phone beeped indicating he'd received a text. Believing it to be Rob finally calling him back, he sat up, fished his phone out of his jeans, and read the message. The message wasn't from Rob; it was from Eric:

Cheer up, buddy.

David fought the urge to hurl the phone into the wall. “Cheer up?" Did Eric just get a kick out of screwing with him? His entire was falling apart, he was at the mercy of a psycho, and the only futures he had to look forward to were either rotting in a cell or getting people killed. What did he possibly have to be happy for? He thought about texting Eric that question, but his sensible side stopped him. There was no telling what it took to set this guy off. He rolled over and sighed when the phone beeped with another message:

I got something to cheer you up. Go to the restaurant where you and Steph made up.

David tilted his head in confusion. Why was Eric sending him to that restaurant? He took a deep breath and began getting dressed. There wasn't any time to speculate. Eric didn't give him a time line and he didn't want to know what the consequences were for lateness. The only upside was thinking about whatever it was Eric wanted him to do distracted him from his other feelings.

****

When David got to the restaurant, the host recognized him immediately. “Hey, how's it going? You know, you are just in time. A table for two just opened up. Not many people can call in a reservation at the last second and find a slot just opened up. You have got to be the luckiest guy I've ever met. I'm guessing that luck came in handy with that hot rabbit from before, huh?"

David chuckled nervously. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I'm the good luck charm. If you can call being stalked by a nutjob while having your life torn apart 'lucky,' " he added under his breath. It worried him who Eric arranged for him to meet. The host said a table for two. Who was the other person? What if Eric had somehow called Stephanie and convinced her to meet him?

I swear, if this twisted bastard is trying to drag Stephanie into this, I'll kill him, David thought darkly.

The host didn't hear his comment and led him to a booth by the window. David hesitated for a moment when he recognized it as the same booth where he and Stephanie sat.

David's thoughts grew darker as he sat down. This was their spot; it meant something to him. Now Eric was going to dirty it. No matter what happened, it would stick in the back of David's mind that Eric brought him here.

The teenager who served him last time appeared and handed him a menu. David knew it wasn't the kid's fault, but he wanted to smack the smile off his face. When asked if he wanted anything, he said he would wait until his “friend" arrived before ordering, but did order a glass of water. The teen smiled again and said he would be right back. David watched the window and constantly glanced at his phone until the waiter came back with the water.

There were no new messages from Eric since David came in. He thought about texting him why he was there, but the idea of talking to that psycho made him nauseous. The thought of walking out also crossed his mind and he squashed the idea immediately. He looked down at his phone for what felt like the hundredth time, and there were still no new messages. He sighed and glanced around the restaurant.

So far no one else in the restaurant gave him so much as a glance. Glancing at his phone again, he saw that only one minute had passed. He sighed again and put his face in his hands.

This was a mistake. He shouldn't be here, and he shouldn't be doing this. It was like being forced to choose between the lesser of two evils. If he ignored Eric, he would get angry, but doing what Eric said didn't feel much better. He couldn't even escape into his own thoughts in the meantime. If he didn't focus on Eric, his thoughts drifted to Brent and Otto and how he got them killed. Thinking of them made his stomach turn.

The only bright spot was knowing that eventually Eric would get caught, and this nightmare would end. “Just a little bit longer," he mumbled under his breath. “I already let the Detective know about him. It's only a matter of time before they catch on to him, then I—"

“Sorry I'm late," said a voice that made David cringe, “But this place was harder to find than I thought."

That voice—it can't be, he thought. No, Eric wouldn't bring HER here of all places. He wouldn't.

David lowered his hands to a vixen with bright red fur sitting in the seat across from him. She had a narrow, pointy muzzle that almost resembled a small cone sitting on her face. Two pointed, black-tipped ears stuck out through lustrous auburn hair that fell to her shoulders. She licked her lips almost as if a hearty meal had been placed in front of her. She wore a business casual blouse with the top three buttons undone, exposing a fair amount of white-furred cleavage. All of it somehow added to the predatory presence she gave off sitting there with a smile on her face. Her smile felt like it was meant to disarm rather than calm, and her eyes probed for weaknesses to exploit.

He was too shocked at the sight of the vixen to react. This was who Eric wanted him to meet? Alex Fields, the reporter who spent more than half her time trashing him on TV? The one who picked apart every aspect of his life and twisted it to make him look like a psychopath? But why? Eric knew he had just been questioned by the police, so why invite the last person who should know that?

His phone vibrated and he looked down to see another message from Eric.

Stay cool. She's being watched.

He frowned at the phone then at the vixen. “Stay cool?" Who was Eric kidding? He was sitting across from the one of the three people most responsible for making his life hell and he was supposed to “stay cool?"

Alex's smile widened, showing off her perfectly white fangs, making David's scowl deepen. Every one of her teeth resembled those of a shark's, her smile seeming more predatory than friendly. She ran her manicured nails over the leather handbag she sat on the table. Each nail had been filed to a point that extended just beyond the her fingertips resembling a set of half-retracted claws. “Giving me the silent treatment, huh?" she said sweetly. “C'mon, Davey, I had to scope the place first. After all, when you sent that e-mail saying you wanted an interview, I was doubtful. I mean, an exclusive will do wonders for my ratings, but I know I'm not on your list of favorite people. Girl can't be too careful. I can't afford to end up as one of your victims."

David's ears rose. He never sent an e-mail. So Eric had not only been stalking him, but hacked his e-mails as well and possibly been in contact with other people. David wondered who else Eric made contact with.

What bothered David more was Alex agreeing to it. Did that mean she didn't actually believe he was a murdering psycho? The look in her watchful, green eyes said “No" and her comment about not wanting to be a victim sounded like she was joking. It made David wonder why was she so against him if she didn't buy into her story. Was it simply the attention? The sheer pleasure of it? Did someone pay her off? Just what was promised to her to make decide to hate him so? The questions started rotating in his mind, each one jumping on top of the other until he wanted to bang his head on the table to make them stop.

The teenager appeared to take their order, and David was grateful to have something else to think about. The young waiter looked back and forth between Alex and David with a shocked expression on his pimpled face. He mumbled something David couldn't understand, but he did notice the words “lucky bastard" came up several times.

The teenager's voice quivered, and he flashed Alex a friendly smile as he said, “Hey, there, welcome to Kevin's." He looked at David and the smile vanished as if it never existed. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained as if he were in a great deal of pain. “What will you two be having?"

“I'm good, thanks," David replied. He shot a dark glare at Alex. “I suddenly lost my appetite."

Alex smiled and buried her face in the menu. “As you're buying, I think I'll have that new chicken sandwich everyone's been talking about, and a glass of water." She put the menu down and leaned forward, further exposing her ample bosom. “Normally, I would order something stronger, but since I am on the job, I'll have to pass. You can drink though. I find that some people are more honest after they've knocked back a few. It'll help ease some of the tension."

The teenager nodded but didn't move. He was too busy staring at Alex's chest to realize the conversation was over. David noticed that the other men in the restaurant had also taken notice of the vixen. Judging from the looks on their faces, none of them were happy to see that she wasn't dining alone, and the looks on the dates some of them brought with them, said they were happy she was.

If it wasn't for the intense loathing for the fox sitting across from him, David would've found it funny. Either they had no idea how evil she was, or they were too busy thinking with another part of their bodies to care. You poor bastards have no idea that she's doing it on purpose. It's part of her plan to keep you distracted while she has the upper hand. 

And it was working. David didn't feel the slightest bit attracted to her, but he couldn't get a good read on the vixen. Her eyes, her tone, her body language, everything about her seemed neutral even when he knew otherwise. The best he could tell was she wanted to exploit him for her personal gain, but couldn't at all see how she felt about it. It was maddening not knowing her feelings toward him and impossible to know how to approach her.

Not that it really mattered. He didn't like her and he had no intention of keeping that a secret. The problem was not blowing up and making a scene in a public restaurant.

Noticing the teenager still hadn't moved yet, David decided to speed things along. “Hey, kid, shouldn't you be filling our orders?"

The teenager snapped out of his trance and looked at David as if just realizing he was in the room. “R-right. I-I'll be right back."

Alex moved the purse from the table to her lap and began rummaging through it. “Now, that's out of the way. We can begin talking about the interview." She placed a small voice recorder on the table. She also removed a small notebook and pen. Noticing David's raised brow, she chuckled. “It's a little archaic in this day and age, but I prefer to use things aren't likely to crash when I need them most. Now back to you. I take it you want to tell your side of the story and let others see you in a different light? Hoping to draw even a little sympathy in the hopes a judge will take it easy on you?"

David's phone vibrated again. It was another message from Eric.

Convince her to go back to your place.

David's brow rose. How the hell did Eric expect him to pull that off? Alex wasn't stupid. She wouldn't go back to his apartment and certainly not alone. Couldn't Eric at least have told him the plan instead sending him in blind? Of course if he had known he was meeting Alex Fields in the restaurant where he and Stephanie once hung out, he would never have agreed to it, stalker or no.

He swallowed and forced the thoughts out of his mind. Now was not the time for “what-ifs" and “maybes." He needed to focus on figuring out what to say to Alex without tipping her off that he hadn't the slightest idea what they were doing there. The last thing she needed was something else to use against him. He could already imagine her next story about how he was losing what little sanity he had left. “That's why I contacted you," he said with a lot of effort. To keep his displeasure from showing in his face, he wrung his tail under the table. The pain was a welcome distraction from the intense hatred. “You're gonna bad-mouth me anyway, so I may as well make sure you have your facts straight."

Alex flashed another smile, showing off her pointed fangs again, and leaned on her elbow, her bushy tail swaying next to her. “I like your attitude. Almost makes me wish I hadn't aired that exposé on your mother. You are right, though. People will talk no matter what I say, so someone should put the truth out there. But what do you get out of this, hmm? I doubt I was your first choice, or your second. So why are you coming to me? I would've thought your attorney would advise against something like this. After all, explaining yourself to the public only makes you look guilty."

“Well, that's exactly it. People listen to you, so I know if you say it, they'll take notice." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “My attorney doesn't know I'm doing this. Plus, what I have to say, you'll want to hear it. It's something not even the police know."

Alex's ears rose and her tail stopped moving. She had taken the bait. Now it was just a matter of reeling her in. “Really? It sounds like you really have something that'll make a headline." Her voice became cold and harsh as she said, “So stop playing coy, David. Why are you telling me this?"

David didn't have an answer. He was bluffing anyway. He wouldn't tell her the weather if she asked. Only now she called his bluff, so he had to make up something.

A sudden thought crossed his mind. What if he put Alex on Eric's trail? Eric knew David couldn't stand the vixen, so there was less of a chance she was being watched. It also wouldn't raise any flags for Alex to be looking at the people he was connected to.

Then when I'm done with her, she can be dealt with like the others. “I have an accomplice," he whispered.

That got Alex's attention. Her bright green eyes widened and her smile grew so big it looked like it would split her head open. “You don't say. That is something that has my interest. Do tell."

David looked around the restaurant. No one was looking at them or even showing any signs they were listening in. They had given up gawking at what they could never have, but he still felt uncomfortable talking about this around so many people.

“It's a little…crowded in here. Maybe we should talk somewhere more private like your place?" he asked slyly, even throwing a quick glance at her cleavage for good measure.

This time a playful smile adorned Alex's muzzle. “David, if I didn't know any better. I'd say you wanted something more than just an interview. And don't think I haven't noticed you eyeing the girls. It has to have been a while since you last handled your…urges. I won't lie: you are cute, but I don't mix business with pleasure."

Good because I wouldn't fuck you with someone else's dick, he thought darkly. On the outside he chuckled and said, “Well, that's a shame, but I did call you out here for an interview. I guess that'll have to do. But I still won't say anything with so many people around."

“Well, your place isn't far from here," Alex offered. “We can handle the interview there."

David couldn't stop his brow from rising. It wasn't surprising Alex knew where he lived, but it was surprising that she offered to go to his place. She was up to something. Anyone could tell he was setting her up, and she was allowing it for a reason. There was the possibility Alex didn't trust him and figured this was a ploy to find out where she lived, or maybe she was crazy enough to offer herself as bait to catch David in the act of something terrible and get the exclusive she wanted. The last theory felt like a reach. Surely, Alex wasn't willing to go that far to boost her ratings.

There was no way around it. If he tried too hard to change locations, both Eric and Alex would suspect something. He would just have to find a way to word everything so Eric wouldn't catch on.

David forced a smile and said, “Works for me. Let's go."

“But what about the food I ordered?"

“Do you want the interview or not?" David growled.

Alex smiled deviously at his outburst. “You must be itching to get this off your chest. Okay, I'll get it to go."

****

It took everything David had to keep calm as he led Alex Fields into his apartment. He hated the idea of having her in his place. It felt like having he was betraying something as if her presence somehow defiled the place. This was his place, where he and Lori shared so many memories. Alex didn't care about any of that she wanted to take those memories and twist and defile them to suit her needs.

She sat down on the couch, smiling when its springs groaned beneath her weight. “I bet this thing has some wild stories to tell, huh?" She looked at the TV and her smile dropped and her tail stiffened. “Looks like your TV has seen some action, too."

“That was just an accident by a friend who couldn't hold his liquor," David replied casually. It brought him some small pleasure knowing she was the reason his TV was broken, and it bothered her seeing it.

The phone vibrated again. It was another message from Eric.

Start talking.

Now David was convinced Eric was messing with him. Start talking about what? He didn't want to talk to Alex in the first place.

“Ah!"

He looked over his shoulder just in time to see Alex pull something out of her ear. Most likely whatever earpiece she was using to communicate with her unseen bodyguards. “You okay?" he asked.

Alex quickly straightened up and folded her hands in her lap. Her tail was pointed straight at the ceiling. For the first time, David saw fear in her face. It was subtle, but no doubt there. Control of the situation was being taken from her, and she knew it. “No—I mean, yes, nothing's wrong." She fetched the small notepad, pen, from her small voice recorder from her purse, turned on the voice recorder, and placed it on the table. “Let's start this interview."

Seeing her nervous made him want to smile. She had ruined so many lives, invited so many people onto her show only to throw their darkest secrets up in their faces and watch them squirm on camera. Now it was her turn. Time to see how well she could handle being under pressure. “How much did he offer you?"

Alex's ears fell back, and she tilted her head with a genuine innocent expression on her face. “What are you talking about?"

“Don't play dumb. I'm talking about Luther Creed. How much did he offer you to sell out?"

“Is this what you called me out here for?" she asked. She gave a short laugh that was more of a bark. “C'mon, David. I have no idea who this 'Luther Creed' is, and he certainly didn't offer me any money." It was clear in her voice she was lying. That slight shaking timbre that danced on the edges of her words was something David knew all too well. People had lied to his face several times over in the last year.

David leaned against the wall, fighting to keep his tail still. “You've never heard of him? That's strange. He's the guy who fucked my girlfriend and is going around telling everyone they were engaged, but you claim you have never heard of him?"

Alex's expression turned sour as she moved to turn off the voice recorder, her tail twitching in irritation. A smile slowly crept across David's muzzle. She was too late to realize she just cornered herself. Either she admitted she was paid off by Luther, or she admitted to being a biased, incompetent reporter. And the icing on top was knowing she just recorded it on tape.

He moved closer to her, the confidence building within him. It was similar to the same feeling he felt in his dream. It felt good seeing her cornered like this. Watching her squirm made him giddy with excitement.

This is getting a liiiittle creepy, he thought. Should I be enjoying it this much?

Bothered or not, he didn't want to stop. “What, you want to talk off the record now? That's fine. You know what I don't understand? How can you do anything for him? That bastard hates anthros—and makes no attempts to hide it."

He dropped onto the sofa, his smile growing even wider and more sinister. “Was it worth it? You do realize that once word gets out that you helped a racist frame one of your own that your career is totally fucked? That's assuming the fraudulent reports and accepting bribes doesn't do it first."

Alex's face remained calm, but her fur began to stand on end. Her eyes burned with an intense hatred. “You're bluffing," she said calmly. “You're not the first one to threaten me, David. Honestly, you should work on your delivery because I'm not impressed."

Now it was David's turn to laugh, but it was humorless. “I'll give you one thing: you can hide your fear well. Or are you so convinced you're cold and heartless that you think it makes no difference? Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?"

Alex continued to stare daggers at him and said nothing.

David tilted his head as a thought crossed his mind. “Back at the restaurant, you said you wanted to be cautious, but you willingly followed me to my apartment, alone. Why?"

She briefly looked away, shifting her weight on the sofa as her tail twitched. She still said nothing.

“C'mon. It's not much of an interview if we don't talk. Wait…you didn't agree to this so you could seduce me, did you?"

 Alex tensed at his response. The cracks were forming in her defenses and she clung to what little control she felt she still had. Whatever her plans were after coming here, they had fallen apart. David suspected the only thing keeping her there was a stubborn pride that refused to admit he had gotten the better of her.

It didn't matter what she said. Her silence said enough. “Wow. I was just shooting in the dark on that one. That is beyond low. He must be paying you royally to want to go this far to make a headline. I know I should be insulted, but I actually feel a little sorry for you. You have no respect for yourself to put your life on the line like this." He sat on his knees and leaned forward like a teenager eager for a piece of gossip. “Lemme guess: You had a terrible childhood. Your parents didn't give you enough attention, or maybe a little too much attention?"

“This isn't about me," Alex growled. Her manicured nails scratched the handbag leaving deep scars on its leather surface. “I'm here to interview you, not the other way around."

“But you haven't asked any questions yet," David said innocently. “Or are you just thinking of a way to skip past the bullshit questions and get to the real reason you're here? I'm flattered and all, but I won't lie: I don't like easy females."

“You know what? I think we're done here," Alex replied venomously. She packed up her things and headed for the door. “I didn't come here to be insulted."

Before David knew what was happening, he was on his feet and following her to the door. He told himself to stop before he did something crazy, but his body was no longer under his control. The moment Alex pulled the door open, his hand shot past her, forcing it closed again.

“I didn't tell you could leave, Ms. Fields."

Alex glared over her shoulder. “I have an entire camera crew waiting in a van outside. If you do anything to hurt me—"

“No one's coming to save you," David said calmly. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. He knew he could take his time and torture her as much as he wanted without fear of being interrupted. The thought excited him. “And if I wanted to hurt you, I would have. You're here because you're going to do whatever I tell you. Now, go sit your ass down."

Alex continued to glare at him as if trying to mentally force him to take his hand off the door. David stared back with the same calm expression. He had no idea why he wanted to keep Alex there when he wanted nothing more than for her to leave. He just knew he couldn't let her slip away just yet. This interview wasn't over until he said it was.

Little by little, he could see her courage drain from her, the fury in her eyes slowly being replaced by fear. He had no idea what was going through her mind, what she saw as she looked at him. Whatever it was, it was working, so he didn't care. She seemed to be getting it—the position she found herself in. Alex slowly steeped around him and moved back to the sofa, her green eyes fixed on him and wide with fear the entire way. Twice she stumbled from not watching where she was going, but she refused to look away and found her way back by touch alone.

David couldn't hold back the urge to smile anymore, and he didn't want to. It was wrong—he knew that, but putting the pressure on this vixen who had done nothing but slander his name felt too good. It was like when he slipped those photos into Otto's apartment. He felt in-control again of his life again.

No, this feeling was different. It was more like the dream. How much he enjoyed stabbing the woman on the bed, how good it felt feel Brent's flesh give way when he jammed the scissors into the fennec's side.

David shook the thoughts from his mind. I didn't enjoy that, he thought. That was just a dream, nothing more. I didn't do anything.

“So what  you want from me?" Alex asked, her voice quivering slightly. “I assume you don't actually want an interview."

David turned his attention back to the vixen and all of his fears vanished like popping a bubble. “You never answered my question. How much are you being paid to bad-mouth me?" he asked coldly.

“A lot," Alex said quickly. “So I assume you want me to stop in exchange for your silence?"

“You are smart. And here I thought you were on TV because of your looks."

Alex frowned at him. Her hands tightened on the handbag indicating she knew better than to voice her displeasure. “You do understand that if I suddenly stop talking about you, people will get suspicious."

“Not my problem."

“It will be if I mention that you threatened me and put me up to it."

A ripple swept through David's body. It wasn't quite rage, but more like a strange calmness that concealed the fury he felt. Almost as if it were being compressed and waiting for the right moment to unleash it. “You don't seem to fully understand the situation, so I'll spell it out for you: I wasn't bluffing about that accomplice. Almost everyone who has crossed me is dead. You're on the list. If you stop making me your new favorite person, maybe I'll give you a pass."

Alex's brow and her hackles rose. “Excuse me?"

“You heard me."

She smirked, but David could see it was a lie. Her tail was too stiff to be natural and there was no denying the fear in those green eyes of hers. “Well, at least that threat carried some weight, I'll give you that. Still not impressed though, and I don't believe you."

He approached her. Every step he saw her courage waver, and she sank further into the sofa which slowly groaned under the increasing pressure. Her tail flew into her lap and shook, she held her purse in front of her like a shield. Her final act of defiance had failed.

He leaned in close until he could he see reflection in her eyes. “What makes you think I would call you over here to make that up?"

“L-Look, D-David. We can work something out. What if—"

“This isn't a negotiation." his voice was flat and cold. “You do as I say or you become the next headline. From now on, David Somerson is no longer your concern."

She swallowed and nodded, her eyes glassy and wide.

“Say it."

She sank further into the sofa and held the purse over her mouth. “I-I can't. David, you know it's not that simple. If I suddenly take your side, people will ask questions. My show could lose its funding. I can't risk my career—"

That did it. Something in her words triggered something within him. It felt like a dam had broken and his body was flooding with rage. He could feel every strand of fur sticking out from his body, hear the blood pounding in his ears, his tail curling as far as it would go. He seized her by the ear and hauled her to her feet. She opened her mouth to scream, but all she could manage was a strangled cry.

Okay, this is going a little too far, don't you think? his mind asked.

He ignored his conscience. It was wrong. He hadn't even begun to cross a line yet. Alex had no idea what it felt like to have her entire life pried into and exposed for someone else's amusement. Every ex-friend and co-worker she interviewed, every moment shared with Lori she exposed, every childhood memory she picked apart and twisted made him feel as if he were being violated. It caused a pain that dug deep within his core and festered. Until she knew that kind of pain, there was no such thing as too far.

He pulled her face close to his and shook her with every word. “Excuse me? You're worried about your fucking career?! After what you did to me, after what you came here planning to do, you actually have the audacity to tell me you're worried about your fucking reputation?!"

Alex didn't struggle. She went limp and began sobbing. It was pitiful sound that made David's ears hurt. Pitiful as the sound was, there was no sympathy for her. “I'm sorry. David, I am so, so sorry."

He snarled and hurled her back onto the sofa. “Sorry? You're sorry?! You worthless, evil, conniving—You're not sorry! You ruined my life! Because of you, I'll never live in peace again! YOU DON'T GET TO BE SORRY!"

That's enough. This needs to stop. What's gotten into you?

He still ignored the voice in his head. What had gotten into him was he was only a few feet from one of the people he hated most in the world. That she was still breathing was proof he still had self-control.

But his body still didn't feel like his own. He was like sitting in a car while someone else drove. All he could do was sit back and watch the scenery. Not like he cared much who was in control. So long as Alex was being crushed underfoot, nothing else mattered.

Alex curled into a ball on the sofa, squeezing her purse for dear life. More tears streamed down her face, her sobs became even louder, and her entire body shook with fear. She pleaded for David to forgive her, or at least that's what he assumed she was saying. It was impossible to understand her blubbering.

Not that it mattered. There would be no forgiveness. Alex helped spread Luther's lies and even added a few of her own. She exposed every aspect of David's personal life on TV for her own amusement and a payout. She didn't even know him, but she came to his apartment ready to take things further, to frame him just to boost her ratings. 

Dark images began to dance before David's eyes. He wanted to cause her unbearable pain, make her screams transform until piercing shrieks that shook the windows, dye that red coat of fur a darker shade with her blood.

Why should they just be thoughts? he wondered. Why can't I make them real? I'm actually getting tired of fantasizing about I what to do instead of just doing it.

What is wrong with you? his mind screamed. This has gone too far. That's ENOUGH!

Suddenly, David jerked and he felt foreign in his body as if he hadn't moved in a long time. He looked at Alex cowering before him and felt sick to his stomach. Just how far would he have gone if he hadn't come to his senses? Was he really enjoying seeing her suffer? After everything that happened the last few days, could he really find enjoyment in seeing her in pain?

Unable to face her, he stared at the wall. “Get out," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alex must had still heard him because he could hear her scrambling to gather her things before hurrying out of the apartment.

He continued to stand there for what felt like hours, staring at his shadow, his body shaking, his mind wondering what had gotten into him.

Even with the guilt twisting up in him now, a small part of him still regretted letting Alex get away.

The strength abandoned his legs and he fell to his knees. The last time he gave in to those urges for vengeance, two people died. He just learned three more were gone because he chose to gamble with someone's life. As he thought about his “plan" had done to Brent Caldwell, that familiar feeling of pleasure began to well up in him like a slowly inflating balloon.

David slammed his fist into the floor, the pain driving out the pleasure. What was wrong with him? He shouldn't be enjoying any of this. He wished he could just turn his brain off. To stop thinking even if just for a moment. But there was no turning his mind off. Nothing to distract him from his thoughts. His sanity was all he had left, and it seemed that was being taken too.

Don't flatter yourself. You weren't all there to begin with. Your sanity was slipping long before Eric got into your life. He's not the one making you dream of revenge. Before he could think of any kind of response, his phone vibrated again indicating he'd received another message. He didn't want to look at it. He didn't care who was trying to contact him now; he didn't want to speak to anyone. But his arms moved on their own, pulling the cell out of his pocket and holding it in front of his face.

It was another message from Eric.

Meet me on Chatline

David didn't want to; the very idea of talking to Eric right now made him sick. It was Eric's fault that he almost lost his senses and did something he would regret later, and that he was fighting the feelings guilt permeating his body. But once again his body was not his to control, and his legs took him straight to the bedroom and dropped him in front of the computer. His arms and hands wasted no time turning on the desktop, logging into his Chatline account, and starting another conversation with Eric.

Eric's message popped up on the screen almost immediately:

Eric: So you let her go. And after I went through all that trouble setting everything up for you.

David growled and his fingers jabbed harshly at the keys as he typed his response.

CH27: What the fuck is wrong with you? I came very close to hurting her.

Eric: I was trying to cheer you up, buddy. I figured giving you Alex on a silver platter would make you happy. I know you dream about what you would do to her given the chance.

David swallowed, his tail ducking under the chair. Eric stalking him was one thing, but no one knew about the dreams he had. He never told anyone. “It was a lucky guess," he said nervously. Of course Eric could guess about the dreams. Eric knew how much he hated everyone who turned their backs on him. It only made sense that at some point, he thought of getting even. With shaking fingers, he typed:

CH27: I don't know what you're talking about.

Eric: Yeah, you do. You wanted to hurt her. You liked hearing her beg for mercy. The feelings you have go beyond hatred, and there's only one way to get through it.

David swallowed as he read the message. It felt as if a large lump had formed in his throat. He knew Eric was right. Seeing Alex covering like that felt good and all he could think of was how it wasn't enough. Just reading the message brought new imaginings of ways to punish her to mind. There wasn't a method of torture imaginative enough to satisfy the craving for vengeance.

His stomach sank as he realized his stalker seemed to understand him better than he understood himself. In a way, he owed getting his life back to Eric. The same Eric who was stalking him, the same Eric who watched his every move, and the same Eric who claimed to have some supernatural power over others. As much as he wanted Eric out of life, David feared what his life would be like once that happened. Where would he be if he hadn't found the website when he did? It took everything he had not to murder Oliver. If he had seen Alex back then, he wouldn't been able to stop himself. Eric kept him grounded, kept him sane.

Another message appeared on screen. David's eyes were drawn to it like a dim light in the middle of a dark room. He could see nothing else but the words on the screen.

Eric: Don't run from your feelings, David. Did you know she planned to run to the cops afterward and say you forced yourself on her? She was going to frame you just to boost her ratings. Someone who is that depraved doesn't deserve your mercy.

CH27: Why did you make me talk to her? Why didn't you “deal" with her like the others?

Eric: Oh no. I couldn't do that. She's special. Like Luther. They're yours. I would never take that from you.

CH27: Mine? What the hell does that mean?

Eric: You know what it means.

David's tail quivered. He knew exactly what Eric was getting at, and he knew he wasn't opposed to the idea. If there was a way he could get back at Alex without repercussions—No, he couldn't afford to think that way. That line of thinking has already gotten several people killed.

CH27: No. That's not what I want.

Eric: Don't lie to yourself.

CH27: It's not what I want!

Eric: Yes, it is. Why do you think you dream about hurting everyone who turned their back on you? Deep down, you want revenge. You want them to suffer and feel your pain. Don't run from your feelings. It's okay. Let me in.

David sat there, shaking his head, never taking his eyes off the screen. It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. He didn't want to hurt anybody. He was just angry, and in time, the anger would pass. It was only a matter of time.

Is that what you're calling what you did to Alex? Just “blowing off steam?"  he asked himself.

David fell out of his seat and onto his knees. Tears silently streamed down his face. There was no denying it. The foundations of his sanity were starting to crumble and it was only a matter of time before he finally snapped. He would never know peace. Even if he beat the murder charge, the damage done by Alex wouldn't go away. The suspicion would always hang over his head, and he would never be left alone. Alex said it herself: people would talk regardless. When Stephanie cut ties, she admitted the rumors about her and David hadn't ceased. He would never be left alone. They would continue to strip away everything that gave him joy until there was nothing left.

Am I okay with that? Is it really so wrong to fight back? To take control of my life again? The thought made him lift his head. As guilty as he felt about Otto and Brent, he didn't kill them, did he? He didn't tell anyone else to go on a murdering spree—he never even suggested it. What happened wasn't his fault. What did he do wrong? What laws did he break?

Listen to yourself. You're starting to rationalize your actions.

He shoved the thoughts away. He had been wrong before. What he had done so far was only self-defense. Those people brought it on themselves. Alex deserved what happened today. How could he deny that? What gave them the right to take his life apart like this? What did he ever do to them? He knew he was innocent, so why lay down and let others walk all over him? Why should he make it easy for them?

He climbed back into his seat. All of his feelings of hopelessness were replaced with a seething rage. There were only two options: fight back or lay down and die.

CH27: You're right. I do want them to suffer. I'm tired of whining about how fucked up my life is and doing nothing about it.

Eric: So, you're finally on board?

CH27: I am. What next?

Eric: Like I said before: just let me in.

CH27: How?

Eric: Just start typing. 

This was one of the harder chapters to write. Things are beginning to tie together now, and I have to make it as believable as possible. Alex was supposed to come into the story sooner besides a mention here and there, but given her relationship with David and the role she will soon play, it was hard to fit her in anywhere. 

I also struggled a lot trying to capture the emotional roller coaster David is currently experiencing. Shifting between guilt, sorrow, and rage isn't easy when each emotion is coming from a different source and I didn't want it to feel like he was just shifting emotions on a whim. His feelings toward Alex were really hard to capture since what he feels for her is hard to describe. The best I can say is that it goes beyond hatred. Even if I missed the mark a bit, I wanted to make sure it was understood what drove him to this point.

As I said before, there are only a few chapters left, so the pace is really picking up now. In the coming months, I might slow down on posting a bit with some changes going on in my life, but I promise I won't wait too long between postings.