I returned to the office and sat behind the computer screen dreading the fact Holly-Mae's story needed a whole lot of editing. I couldn't put half of the stuff she disclosed into the article. I sigh and leaned back in the chair. Holly was a strong woman. What she experienced was enough to drive anybody insane. She mentioned on more than one occasion as I sat in her very lively and colorful living room how blessed she was to be able to recount her story to me.

To avoid having to edit the story I check my e-mail... Only to find it's blown up with pictures of my sis overseas. Mackayla was glowing, looking so happy posing with her husband. She and I could almost pass for twins. We had the same honey-brown upturned eyes and full lips. My cheekbones were a bit more prominent than hers. She was much shorter and thinner than me. Mackayla always envied my curves and my advice to her was 'eat more'. I use to feel bad about our relationship, but realized if I really wanted change I would make the effort. Once upon a time, we were close. Our parents freak accident was so... I don't even wanna think about it. If I do, I'll begin to hate Mackayla for what she did- like leave me to handle all the arrangements for our parent's burial. She didn't even show up to the funeral. Anyways, that's long in the past. My head should be on the present.

"My wife is having an affair..." Percy frowned as he stepped into my office, closing the door behind him.

"I-uh-I'm sorry to hear that-

"...With cheesecake and she's making mad-passionate love to it. The broad even sent me a pic." He just called his wife a broad. "Anyways"-he waved a hand-"how did it go?"

"Good," I lied. Hearing her story made me sick to my stomach especially the details.

"Excellent," he replied, clasping his hands. "This is definitely going to skyrocket our sells."

"Mhmm."

Percy gave me a discerning stare. "Mona, if you don't want to talk to me I get it. But please, I'm saying this as your friend not your boss, talk to someone."

****************

7:00 p.m.

I unlocked the door to my apartment and breathe in the smell of pine cleaner, bleach, and other cleaning solutions.

What the…?! I didn’t clean today.

“Welcome home, Mona,” Death Trap said. His voice was deep and… never mind. I froze in the doorway as if I was a deer caught in headlights. He stood in the middle of my living room with arms folded across his chest and legs splayed, dressed in all black. That black linen shirt clung to his lean and muscled body, tucked into black slacks. I had to avert my gaze from that muscular body because…

Anyways, I looked around to find my apartment was so clean the furniture gleamed in the lights. It was practically cleaner than when I cleaned it. The pictures on the mantle above my fireplace were dusted and placed neatly. My hardwood floor was sparkling and the cream colored rugs were spotless.

I’m ranting on about clean furniture because I didn’t want to address six foot-plus of masculinity and muscle standing a few feet away. Damn it, did the neighbors see him. It wouldn’t even matter. They didn’t know this was the masked serial killer.

He started moving around my living room all stalky like a black panther.  My eyes couldn’t avoid acknowledging the way his body moved. There was no denying this man was so sure of himself, confident. If he had been any other man it would have been amajor turn on, but this was Death Trap, a masked serial killer. I needed to remind myself of that. But shit, why did he have to be so damn fine?

Life just isn’t fair.

“Come on in, Mona. I don’t bite,” he smiled, revealing beautiful white teeth, “unless you want me too, but I prefer to use my tongue.” He chuckled softly at his own joke and then moved to the fireplace. The flames cackled.

He reached for the photograph of me clad in a bikini on the beach, smiling big for the camera. “I like this picture of you.” My ex took that photo. I practically burned all the others of him and me together.

“So beautiful.” Why is he looking at me like that? Chin down, giving a look beneath his brows. It was predatory- like he wanted to eatme. I got something for him to eat… The dust when I run like hell… in a minute though.

“You know I first saw you on that morning news show,” he begun.

“Uh-huh,” I replied, easing my way back out of the door.

“And for the first time, in a longtime,” he continued. “I felt something and it wasn’t even homicidal.” Now, why did he have to say that? What could this killer possibly feel for me that wasn’t homicidal?

“I’m a man and you’re a very beautiful woman, Mona. You intrigue me.” I found I just spoke my thoughts aloud and he answered. His diamond eyes were intense as he moved closer in that stalking-predator way. The smell of his aftershave and body wash wafts into my nose.

He looks at his silver Rolex wrist watch.

“I will not be able to see you tomorrow night, got things to do.” His surprisingly sexy full lips spread into a charming devious smile. “But the day after, I’m free. I’ll see you then… say around seven.”

To punctuate his words, he kissed me and it was frighteningly like nothing I have ever felt before. Afterwards, I touched my lips, a little confused by the feeling. “The day after tomorrow, seven o clock,” he reminded me and kissed me again. I nearly said “OK”. I gazed up at him. Was he feeling it too? “Mmm, I can't get enough of those lips. I should stop. I'm so tempted to take you right here. I'll see you later, sweet thing. Wear something sexy.” With that said, he just left.

I watched his retreating back longer than I should have. It was a fine backside. He stalked down my driveway, turned, and caught me staring. He wet his bottom lip and gave a lazy sexy smile as he got into his car and drove off.

Jesus help me.