by Nicole Thorn
Your Heart Is Mine
By
Nicole Thorn
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by
any means without written permission of the author.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are
either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Your Heart Is Mine
Copyright © 2020 Nicole Thorn
CHAPTER ONE:
A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out
Isaiah
It’d been nearly twelve weeks since last I’d killed someone. My skin started to crawl, and nothing I did could make me sit still. The caffeine probably didn’t help.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” one of the other deputies said, having to put down his coffee. He spoke with his partner, who tossed a newspaper onto his desk. The other man, Mills, tried to get a handle on his stomach. “I don’t get how people like that can function.”
“He’s a serial killer, Beck. A freak of nature.” Rude. “They ain’t functioning.” He raked his fingers through his thinning hair before taking a bite of his microwave burrito.
Beck shivered. “I just don’t know about this job sometimes. I’m starting to need pills to sleep…” He went on, but I tuned him out.
The men gawked at today’s issue of the paper. Why they’d blow a couple of bucks on it rather than log on to the internet, I didn’t know. Nor did I care. Pages one through three of the paper focused on the menace that had been terrorizing Cruor County for the past three months. A new body showed up early this morning. The serial killer — whom everyone had decided was a man — had a habit of throwing his victims up for display. Sloppy, if you asked me, but whatever floated your boat. Personally, I never hunted in town. It made messes I didn’t especially enjoy dealing with. I wondered if this person/animal/mineral had the same idea.
The real eerie part was that the victims didn’t have all their body parts. People theorized, backed up with some damning evidence, that he ate the people he took. So at least they hadn’t totally gone to waste. Go green or go home. So, in short, some guy got peckish and the town had a problem on their hands.
We’d been on the case since we found a pattern. He always chose women, ages fifteen to forty, and just this side of curvy. I knew, because I had been the one in charge of making the calls once the bodies had been identified. I got that job because my coworkers thought I’d be best at it. Something about me being a cold, heartless bastard. They weren’t wrong, so I did it. I knew the game and I knew how to play it. I knew what faces to make and when to make my voice a little shaky. I knew when to hand over a box of tissues and swear we’d catch the son of a bitch.
I didn’t personally work on that case, but we had all been encouraged to help when we could. The station focused mainly on this case, since Willow Grove didn’t have much crime. We got some teenagers partying too hard and some quick bust-ups, but no one worried about being able to go home to their families. Those of us with families.
“Barker,” Sheriff Draper said as he approached my desk. He scratched his head and probably lost three of his remaining four gray hairs. “You’re up on Tuesday.”
I tried not to glare evilly enough to make him piss himself. People didn’t seem to react kindly to death stares nowadays. “No, thank you.”
He sighed and leaned forward, resting his hands and his gut on my desk. “You have no choice. Until this guy is caught, or the parents let up, you have to do it.”
I blinked and waited ten full seconds to answer. “Nervous about the election?”
“Always.” He sighed, tapping his fingers on his bulky sides. “Is that a yes?”
We had a careful relationship. He knew I didn’t play well with others, and I knew that he liked to day drink on the job. He didn’t put me in situations I didn’t need to be in and, in return, I didn’t tattle about the bottles he liked to keep in his desk.
“You said I have to. Don’t you want the illusion of me obeying you?”
His brown eyes darted around, making sure no one paid attention to us. “Good thinking. Be there by eight.”
When he moved away, I fixed the book he’d knocked off kilter. “Yes, I am aware.”
He walked away, feeling proud of himself.
So I had one more day before hell came. Or, more accurately, I would go to that hell.
We lived in a town full of wealthy people with nothing better to do than blow their money and helicopter-parent their children. That resulted in the deputies having to take turns watching over the high school. It wouldn’t be all bad. I knew how to get free candy from the machine.
The parents just wanted us to make sure no one murdered the students. Perfect job for me, obviously. Though I never harmed children. Either way, I had to spend the day playing security guard.
The other deputies still bitched when I had to punch out. I breezed past them and out to my car because I had better things to do. Like fall asleep at the wheel, or eat a whole cake by myself. Anything beat this conversation.
I was lucky enough to be so unliked that my desk sat in the far corner of the room with a wall five feet behind me. They never bothered me and I didn’t bother them. We’d come to an understanding, though; I still got invited to the frequent barbeques the deputies had. I went to those. I enjoyed free cheeseburgers. Plus, everyone liked my dog. He made me seem human.
The rest of the room had been set up in a messy fashion. Desks had been lined up in two rows, and the Sheriff took the office to the right of our desks. A large window should’ve allowed us to see in, but he kept it covered most of the time, despite an ‘open door’ policy. He only had his door opened when he left to eat.
I walked past all of the desks and the chatting officers, hoping to get out before anyone could talk to me. I could only fake it for so long before I snapped, and why test that today? Not when I could see over the edge of the tightrope I walked.
I stepped out into the brisk air and took a deep breath. It was just past nine, and I loved end of winter weather in Southern California. Blue enjoyed running around in the backyard.
Being from Kansas, I had to get used to the weather. Normally, I’d be dealing with snow right about now.
“Isaiah,” someone said, taking my attention. I saw a woman approaching, another deputy. They tried making her my partner, but I didn’t play well with others. She took that to mean that she needed to make me like her. She skidded to a halt in front of me.
“Barbie.” I sighed. “Can I help you?”
Her blonde hair bounced in its ponytail. The woman seemed too happy and chipper to be alive. “I was just saying hi. Are you headed home?”
“Yup. Gotta feed the dog.”
She smiled and it made the corner of her eyes crinkle. She was young, but not quite as young as me. She had just barely turned twenty-three before getting hired at the station. She should have been off doing something else. Something better for a person like her. Not violent. I’d been like this since I was fifteen, which left me pushing my seventh year with this delicate balance.
She and I would never have worke
d as partners, even if I had been open to it. Everything about her felt light and happy, and I couldn’t mesh with that. She liked talking and humming. I liked sitting alone and thinking about how much longer I could get away with being alone. I wouldn’t have killed her, but I would have at least made her cry. As fun as that would have been, it wouldn’t have been worth the talking to I would have gotten.
“Have a good night,” she said with real cheer. She skipped past me, so I didn’t say it back.
I went to my police issue cruiser.
I drove through the sleepy town, not bothering to pick myself up any dinner. I did, however, consider driving a couple of towns over and taking care of that itch. If I did, I would get no sleep tonight. It could wait another day or two, I supposed. I would feed the fix and everything would be peaceful for a little while. I took a life, feeding the monster, and then I could be human for a bit. Not that I especially cared to be human. It just made me feel a little better.
But I had a dog to feed.
When I got home, the puppy greeted me with yips of excitement. When I knelt down, he sat and panted at me, waiting patiently. I patted his head and he rubbed up against my hand.
“Hungry, Blue?”
He yipped again.
He was a Blue Heeler Australian Cattle-Dog mix, so says the woman who sold him to me, and he currently could fit in my coat pocket. His body looked mostly white, but with black fur under it. His paws were tan and attached to stumpy legs. The whitish/blackish pattern covered his face as well. He had a black splotch on his right eye. A little tan sliver went over his left eye. He had an issue with his ears. I didn’t know for sure, but I assumed it came from laziness. One always folded over, and the other only stuck halfway up. I thought he liked screwing with me, because sometimes they switched off. Put it to an animal to pull one over on someone like me.
I stalked off to the kitchen, poured out some food for Blue, and filled a little bowl of water. He wandered right up to it, and I went to the bedroom to change.
I lived in a fairly small house, away from others. I didn’t mind the size, since only me and the puppy lived there. I had three bedrooms, two of which I never used, two bathrooms, a decent kitchen, and living room. I had all I needed.
After I changed into my pajama bottoms, I let Blue out into the backyard before bed. He ran around for a good ten minutes before finally going to the bathroom, but he was a good puppy. He never ate my things, so I let him get away with a lot.
I brushed my teeth. I saw the ticking clock on my face when I looked in the mirror. My clear blue eyes started to look wild. I looked weary, on edge. I ran my fingers through my dark blond hair, trying to think of the future. Soon. It would happen soon, and I would be all right again.
I laid in my bed, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to come. The sound of little feet pacing my bed drew my attention. I looked over, and the moonlight through my window lit on Blue. He circled my bed, looking for a way to easily jump up. He would try, and fail, falling on his face. You’d think he would’ve learned by now.
“Come here, you tiny monster.”
The puppy jumped like he had been zapped, and then he ran to me. I scooped him up off the ground and dropped him on the end of my bed. The second I laid on my side, he waddled up to me. He tucked himself up under my chin and trapped me. I could hear his frantic breaths calm down as he fell asleep and started snoring.
Dammit.
CHAPTER TWO:
The Road Less Traveled Would Have Been a Better Choice
Rocelyn
“You’re going to do great. Make lots of friends.” My mother smiled at me, wishing me luck when I didn’t think it would do much good. Just another half-assed attempt at comfort. I’d believe it more if she hadn’t been on her phone the whole time she spoke with me. “I have to get going. You have a ride?”
“My car…” I said. She had the maid go with me to buy it. Say what you would, but Connie could haggle with the best of them. I got a pretty little black BMW as a ‘please don’t complain about moving again’ present. The bribe before that had been a laptop; before that, a puppy. They made me give her away when she ate one of Mom’s shoes. The list went on and on, but I couldn’t remember all the gifts. They meant nothing to the people giving them to me, so I didn’t care about them. Except for the puppy. I’d really loved that puppy.
We’d moved seven times in the past fifteen years. My parents were important to the company they worked for. Important to the world, and it happened to be far, far more important to them than me. It didn’t sadden me anymore. They worked on new ways of creating green energy.
My mother already had one foot out my bedroom door. Her eyes stayed glued to her phone while she spoke. “You have a few months left in school. Be happy that you’re about to graduate. Make some friends, and maybe we can throw you a party this year for your birthday.”
She walked out without saying goodbye.
I got ready for school. I left my hair down. It hung in orange curls that leaned toward red. They fell to the middle of my back. I tested out several outfits, and I didn’t like any of them. I was short at five feet, two inches. So a lot of what I wore tended to make me look pudgy, according to my mother. My face looked round and I my curves had extra curviness to them.
I eventually chose a sweater and jeans. I couldn’t think of anything more neutral to wear. One look and all the other kids would know I had money to waste. My mother said that everyone in this town did. I didn’t care much for snobby kids, but it probably wouldn’t matter. I’d be finished with school soon, and then I’d be shipped off to culinary school. A few months. I just needed to make it a few months.
I couldn’t stall anymore after I shoved all my things into my backpack. So why couldn’t I make my feet move?
My bedroom felt safe. I spent the last week making sure it looked perfect. It was partially underground; there was a window halfway up the wall, and the ground outside a couple of feet under it. Pictures of old friends I had to say goodbye to hung around the room. My bed had been against the middle of the back wall I wished I could skip school and get away with it.
I gathered up my courage and made myself leave the house. I only had to be there seven hours. How bad could it be?
The new town had a mess of trees and woods absolutely everywhere. Even the street we lived on had trees surrounding us. Two rows of houses faced each other, but at one end, trees blocked us off. The other side led out into town.
Since I got to Willow Grove, I’d been driving around so that I could get used to the streets. I didn’t want to get lost. That nearly happened today, but then I saw two teens getting into a car outside their house. Like a creep, I followed them and they brought me right to the school.
Lucky me, I guess.
The parking lot had filled with people walking and talking and hanging out by their cars by the time I’d arrived. I already felt out of place. Everyone looked so blond and so happy. The red head with curls and a face full of freckles, not to mention the ten pounds I still needed to lose wouldn’t fit in. According to my mother, anyway.
I parked and turned the car off, looking over the schedule I had in my backpack. Figuring out the way to my classes had to be my least favorite part of new schools. I’d stare at my schedule for the first week and have panic dreams about showing up late to class, or leaving all my stuff behind for some reason.
Just a few months, I reminded myself. Not long at all. If I kept my head down, then I would be fine. I could make friends when I graduated.
With a deep breath, I got out of my car and shut the door. Everyone stood around, watching me. Some of them didn’t look interested, but others seemed fascinated with my presence.
Last time, last time. I had to remember.
I ignored the eyes on me and marched on to my first class.
****
I knew that I should have been used to having to stand in front of people I didn’t know and telling them about myself. Yet, I still turned b
eet red when I had to do it.
You survive high school, then you could survive anything.
Lunchtime rolled around and the massive cafeteria left me in awe. The big white room had half a dozen different food stations. Most people lined up at the salad station. I ignored them and went to the line that had pizza.
Halfway there, a girl smacked right into me. Neither of us fell down, but she acted like I turned her lunch over on her head. She narrowed her amber eyes at me, flipped her curly black hair, called me a bitch, and walked away.
After I got my lunch, I took it to the outside eating area at the front of the school. A couple dozen long tables had been set up out there, but a few little groups sat in the grass with lots of trees surrounding them. A middle-aged man in a deputy’s uniform watched us. Everything about him seemed tired. I’d never seen someone look so depressed while they ate gummy bears.
I heard a feminine throat clear before someone shouted, “New meat!”
Fabulous.
I wanted to ignore what would for sure be some teasing and go find a seat. I nearly reached an empty table when that voice yelled again. “Hey! You with the orange hair!”
Sighing, I looked over to find three girls under a shady tree. The girl calling out waved me over. She looked stunning. Too pretty to be talking to a girl like me. She was appeared to be a Barbie in the flesh. She had long blonde hair falling in thick waves and piercing blue eyes brought out by her perfectly tanned skin.
Her friends looked just as alarmingly beautiful. The one to her left had much darker skin,. full lips, and her hazel eyes latched onto me. She had her brown hair tied up in a ponytail and her outfit matched the tie. A white dress, shorter than she should have been allowed to wear, but somehow longer than the pink dress her friend sported.
The last girl had her light brown hair in a pixie cut that stuck out in all directions. She also had hazel eyes, but a few shades lighter than the other girl. She dressed more conservatively in a pair of green shorts and a black top with a jacket thrown over it. Of all the girls, she was a little pudgy. Nothing that she should be ashamed of, I thought.
