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38 Not if you carry me to
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2026-07-21 07:05:37Gaby was not, as a rule, someone who are used to be taken care of.
She'd been sent to boarding school at twelve, learned to make her own decisions at fifteen, and had spent the years since building a whole identity around not needing anyone. Through the slow death of a six-year relationship. Through quitting her job. She'd learned to rely on herself, because relying on other people meant giving them the power to disappoint you.
But Vincent made it difficult.
Not because h
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The Killer's Kitten 73 The Man He Was
He started the next morning.She woke to the sound of his voice in the living room—low, measured, the kind of voice he used when he was working. She stood in the doorway and watched him. He was on the phone, his back to her, one hand in his pocket. His laptop was open on the coffee table. Three phones were lined up beside it. She hadn't seen him
The Killer's Kitten 72 The Only Family He Ever Had
He started talking."I was eighteen when I left the system. No money. No place to go. I slept in a bus station for three nights." He paused. His thumb traced the edge of the photograph. "Claire found me there."Gaby waited."She worked at a community center. She was coming home late. Saw me sitting on a bench with everything I owned in a plastic bag." A pause. "She asked if I was hungry. I said no. She didn't believe me."He set the photo on the windowsill. The glass was cold against the frame."She took me in. Didn't ask questions. Didn't call the cops. Just gave me the attic room and told me I could stay until I figured things out." His jaw tightened. "I stayed a year.""What was she like," Gaby asked."Kind. Stubborn. She used to leave books on my bed. Always the same note—'No rush. But I think you'll like this one.'" He paused. "She was right every time."Gaby watched his face. The way it softened when he talked about Claire. The way it tightened when he mentioned Sophie."And Sop
The Killer's Kitten 71 Her name is Sophie
The studio was working.She'd signed two more brand deals. Her subscriber count had doubled. She was editing faster, shooting better, sleeping more. The apartment was no longer just his penthouse—it was theirs.Her camera bag had a permanent spot by the door. His Nietzsche paperback had been replaced by the novel she'd given him, and he was almost finished.They'd found a rhythm. Not the boring kind—the kind that felt earned.Coffee in the morning.Work during the day.Dinner together most nights.He still left for his security consulting job three days a week. She still filmed and edited and wrote. They still argued about the remote. He still called her Kitten. She still called him Pudding.It was good. It was real.Then his phone rang.She was on the sofa, editing on her laptop. He was in the kitchen, making tea. She heard the buzz, heard him pick it up, heard the silence that followed.She lo
The Killer's Kitten 70 A Dangerous Comment
She found it three days after she got back.She was scrolling through comments on her latest video—the one she'd filmed on the road, the one with the golden light and the empty highways. Most of them were normal. Encouraging. A few from people she recognized. One from a fan who said they'd watched it three times.Then she saw it.*Wait. Is that Vincent? The silver-haired guy in the background? I think I used to know him.*She stopped scrolling. Read it again. Then a third time.She scrolled back through the video. There—barely visible in the corner of one frame. The back of his head. The line of his shoulders. He'd been standing by the window of the hotel room, looking out at the city. She hadn't even noticed she'd caught him. She'd been filming the skyline, the light, the moment. He'd just happened to be there.She looked at the comment again. The username was anonymous. No profile picture. No other comments. Just that one line,
The Killer's Kitten 69 Three Weeks
She got the email on a Monday.A brand collaboration—the biggest one yet. A three-week content series across four cities. All expenses paid. Creative control.She read it three times before she looked up. He was at the kitchen counter, reading something on his phone.“I got a thing,” she said.He looked up. “A thing.”She turned her laptop toward him. He read the email. His expression didn’t change.“That’s a big deal,” he said.“Yeah.”“When do you leave?”“Sunday.”He set his phone down. Walked over to her. He didn’t say anything—just stood there, looking at the screen.“It’s three weeks,” she said. “Four cities.”“I know.”“You’re not going to say anything else?”He looked at her. His jaw was loose. His shoulders were down. “What do you want me to say.”“I don’t know.” She paused. “You’re not going to ask me to stay?”“No.”“Or tell me it’s too dangerous?”“Is it?”She stared at him. He wasn’t being sarcastic. He was asking.“No,” she said. “It’s a brand deal. It’s safe.”“Then I’m
The Killer's Kitten 66 The First Day
The studio was hers.She'd signed the lease on a Friday, spent the weekend cleaning, and by Monday morning, she was standing in the middle of the empty space with a box of equipment and no idea where to start.She set up her desk first. Positioned it by the window—south-facing, exactly as she'd imagined. The light was incredible. She tested her camera in the corner, adjusted the tripod, checked the angles. The space felt bigger than it had when it was empty. Fuller. Like it was already starting to become something.She didn't realize she'd been working for four hours until she heard the door open.Vincent stood in the doorway. He had a paper bag in one hand and a coffee tray in the other. He didn't step inside. Just stood at the threshold, looking at her."You didn't answer your phone," he said.She looked at her phone. Four missed messages. She'd silenced it while she was setting up."I was busy," she said.He held up th
The Killer's Kitten 05 After that night
She sat up, the blanket slipping to her waist. She stared at the back of his head. "After sex you say this?"He didn't turn around."You pull me out of a parking lot with blood on your hands, kill a men, put me in your car, spend the night in a motel with me—and the first thing you say is ‘you sho
The Killer's Kitten 04 You Should Leave
About two weeks had passed since the museum night.Neither of them reached out. He told himself he was resetting. She told herself she wasn't going to chase a man who didn't text back. Two different silences, same result.She finished her last week at work. She said goodbye to her colleague at the
The Killer's Kitten 03 Crème Brûlée
About a week after "Two Lies and One Truth."Vincent sent a message: "There's a photography exhibit. If you're free."When she came downstairs she saw his car—a black BMW, immaculately polished, parked beneath her building like a dormant beast. She got in, running her fingers over the leather stitc
The Killer's Kitten 01 The Jazz Bar
Eight months ago. Los Angeles. A jazz bar tucked into a nameless street downtown.Vincent had just finished a job. His suit sleeves still held their press lines his collar stiff, a neat bourbon on the table in front of him. He sat in the darkest corner, back to the wall. From this position he could
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