Page 65 of Unhinged Kallie

“Just tell me what you want,” she said.

I slowly walked around her body, dragging the knife along her skin. It was mildly annoying to have to skip over the ties.

“I thought that was obvious.” Smiling, I pressed the knife into her quad. The scream was a little louder than I anticipated. It sounded like she was going to alert the entire neighborhood. That would never do. Leaving the knife stuck in her leg, I went to the kitchen and grabbed a roll of cling wrap.

“No, please,” Claire cried, her eyes filled with fear as I sat the box down beside her head.

“Did you think the knife was for show? That I wouldn’t really kill you? Oh, Claire. I’m so sorry. I should’ve properly introduced myself. My name is Kallie Buchanan. Now that may not mean anything to you, but you may remember…The Chameleon.” Her lower lip trembled as she shook her head no. “Well, how anti-climatic was that?” I laughed and grabbed her phone, holding it over her face before she figured out what I was doing.

The screen glowed with several unanswered messages from friends and social media, but I was after the internet and punched in the name the FBI had given my dad and Uncle Abel. Gruesome images of crime scenes filled the screen in small boxes, and my heart beat faster, staring at them. This was my legacy.

I tapped on one picture, a covered body left leaning against a tree, and I turned it so she could see. Her eyes followed as I scrolled through the photos and stopped to read the headlines.

Claire lifted her head, looked at her leg with the knife stuck in it, and cried harder. “I’m going to bleed out! Please take your sick pictures and go. I’ll never talk to Carter again and won’t mention tonight to anyone.”

“Claire, these aren’t sick. Each one of them is art. Artwork my dad created.” Her eyes found mine, and she went completely still. “See, now I think you’re starting to understand. Your blood and screams are all I want.”

Smirking, I put her phone down just out of her reach and pulled the cling wrap roll from the box.

“No, no, no. Ah! Help me! Some…” I punched her across the jaw, and she cried out but stopped screaming.

“I’d hold your breath for a minute.” Wrapping her head like she was a mummy, her cries became muffled. I took an extra minute to watch her struggle, enjoying every second. I should’ve done this first. It felt a little Dextery, but it really worked.

Using the knitting needles I’d brought down, I poked little nostril holes, and she sucked in a ragged breath. She was begging, I didn’t have to understand all the words to get the gist, but she sealed her fate the moment she slapped Carter across the face.

Each cut spilled more blood, and I appreciated my dad’s special table much more. Claire was still blubbering, but it was getting too dangerous to move around the table and not get blood on my boots, tracking it everywhere.

“I’m sorry, Claire, I wish I had more time to spend with you,” I said, then got low to her ear. “I want you to remember you brought this on yourself.”

Picking up the knitting needles, I poked them through the plastic in the shape of an X and lined them up with her eyes. The soft popping sound mixed with the hysterical scream as she tried to thrash around was a bigger rush than Chester. She was still alive and would be for a little while yet. I really wanted to ask her what she was thinking right now, but it was safer to clean up as best I could and head out.

I quickly carved a peacock feather into her chest, cleaned off my knife, grabbed my new nanny cam and slipped out the backdoor into the night. Smiling, I rounded the corner to the tall wooden gate and pulled it open.

“Hello, Angel.”

I let out a little scream and leaped into the air at my dad’s voice before slapping a hand over my mouth.

He pushed away from the wall and the shadows concealing him.

“I think we need to have a little chat.”

Oh shit.

Chapter Twenty-Five

CARTER

A door slammed closed, and I sat up straight, looking at the time. It was two in the morning, and all I could think was that we were being robbed, and god help them. Then I heard Kallie’s voice. I threw off the covers and ran for the hallway.

“Dad, please don’t do this,” Kallie said, and I relaxed when I realized there was no immediate threat.

“I told you this is non-negotiable.” Cain’s voice was as cold as ever while I could feel Kallie’s anger from the stairs.

“This is not fair.”

“Not fair?” What sounded like a fist landed on the counter, and I jogged down the rest of the stairs. Cain glared at Kallie, and I’d honestly never seen him this angry. “What you did was irresponsible. After our talk about the football team, I would have thought you learned your lesson, but you’re too much like Abel. You don’t think before you act.”

“I did think,” she tried to reason.