My first memories of killing Katie—the fantasies, rather—had to be while we were in high school. Duran Duran and Prince and Boy George were on every radio station. They were playful and simple ideas at first, like spilling water on the floor at the grocery store where we worked part time so she would slip on it or fiddling with the brakes on her car. Truth is, I don’t know the first thing about fiddling with brakes. Back then, before the Internet had Google or YouTube, we couldn’t look up easy step-by-step instructions.
I daydreamed a lot during high school. But I didn’t have the usual schoolgirl crushes. Instead of drawing little hearts on the covers of my notebook, I drew some rather sophisticated and elaborate designs for how to kill Katie. I felt like Wile E. Coyote planning a trap for the Road Runner—I loved that cartoon. And the more gruesome the plot, and the more intricate the design, the more turned on I’d get. But it was a different kind of spark, and not at all like the fluttery kind you get while staring at a cute boy. I’ll admit though, the two went together great, like peanut butter and chocolate. And who doesn’t like a little peanut butter with their chocolate?
I struggled, though. Especially after I’d finished each Killing Katie design. What I’d drawn wasn’t exactly something that I could tack up onto our fridge with a pineapple-shaped magnet, announcing: “Hey, Mom, look what I did!” Mostly, the euphoric high I felt peaked like a sensual relief, and then I’d come crashing down. My days after were filled with sadness. It was during those days that I wished I were more like the other girls. It was those days that I’d consider a murder—just one—in order to protect the rest of the world from who I truly was.
But like an autumn rain, my gray days always passed. I tried to fit in. I’d listen to the other girls—the ones I’d call my friends—go on and on about their plans for a dance or an upcoming Friday night at the roller rink. I’d contribute a few words too—just enough to maintain some semblance of normalcy. The girls never suspected that I was different, but Katie picked up on it sometimes. I’d blame my distance and blue moods on a girlish crush, carefully picking one of a dozen cute guys who were already spoken for.
I’d never acted on any of the Killing Katie designs; I chose instead to pack them away in my secret box. I rolled up my blueprints tightly and safely tucked them next to a smaller collection of teen-girl memorabilia. Katie is still the closest person to me, and while I’ve never acted on my fantasies, I’ve never escaped the dreaminess of them. For some reason, the itch to do something about them has been getting stronger and stronger, almost urgent.
I jumped when Steve wrapped his arms around my middle—he never had gone back to sleep. I’d gotten so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t even heard him come downstairs. He held me tight, and I leaned into his warm embrace. He kissed the back of my neck and then pressed against me. And at once, I could feel just how happy he wanted his birthday morning to be. The earlier spur of excitement awakened. I moaned a sexy tone that I knew turned him on, and as if on cue his hand wandered up my side, touching playfully before landing on my breast. Another moan slipped from my lips, and I felt my nipple harden beneath his fingers. A moment later, the stove’s burners were off, and I was on my knees humming “Happy Birthday.” We made our way to the couch. I came with him, dreaming of murder nearly the entire time. Like I said, some things just go great together—like peanut butter and chocolate.
Want to read more of the Killing Katie story?
Pick up Killing Katie, and don’t forget to tell me what you think about it or to sign up for my newsletter.
Table of Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Also By
Subscribe to my Newsletter
End of Gray Skies
Gray Skies
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Blinded By Sight
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Union
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
Thank You
About Me
Excerpt from Killing Katie
End of Gray Skies: An Apocalyptic Thriller Page 32
