The True Story Of Jeff The Killer Novels & Stories

Jefferson said, and spat on the floor. “He won’t find you. Your car has no tracking system, your phone’s at the motel. He’ll reach that dead end and even if he knows where I live, which I’m sure he does, he won’t get to me. I went to prison an innocent man, but I left there a murderer. I killed seven men in prison, got myself the name ‘Wrath’ on the inside. You think you know me, but you don’t. You sitting in that chair … that’s what I do now. I kill men like you for money and I’m really fucking good at it. You turned me into this.” “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Kill me if that’s what you have planned,” Jefferson said.

“Who did this to you? To Bridgette?” I took a nice deep breath. Told myself to be steady enough to share the horrifying encounter. Truth. “Zarion, my Grandmama…” I managed to say, my voice trembling with grief. His face contorted with shock and anger as he urged me to continue. Sensing the gravity of the situation, he kissed my hand. A sign for me to take everything slowly. “What about your grandmother?” Struggling to hold back my tears that just let its presence known in front of Zarion, I whispered, “My grandmother's dead. They killed her. Valerie and Aneliesse Cavitt confirmed it. Hestia confirmed it.”

“ A zillionaire? I asked myself. I got out of the bed and run to my mom in the kitchen. She was chopping some broccoli. “ Mom, have you seen the new trend? I asked. “ No, I was busy making breakfast for myself” she replied not even looking up to me. “ Mom, Jeff is a zillionaire? She said. “ Jeff? Who is Jeff? She asked. “ Dad’s previous driver, the one we had set up for Kaira” I whisper.