Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

His heart hurt in a strange new way.

Felt too tight, like it was bound and everything in him screamed to take his knife to the knotted tissue and whatever iron band had wrapped around it. Release it. Take away the hurt. Take away this pain. Lu didn’t like it, not at all.

It came from letting the girl go. He knew this. When she left, she’d go directly to the police and tell them all about the young Asian man, early 20s, surprisingly muscled and wiry, maybe 130 pounds. 150? He usually wore a T-shirt. A dirty denim jacket when things got cold. Jeans and sneakers. Oh, yes, and he had a knife—long, shiny, very clean and very sharp knife. He murdered his father with that knife. He drives a semi. His name is Lu. He’s killed several other girls. When you find him, it should be the death penalty all the way, please. He hit me in the head with a wrench. It hurt so terribly, so terribly that I threw up, over and over and over. It’s a miracle I got away.

He’d be dead before the po