1st Degree

Chapter 2

Mesmerising

(Harley POV)

It's 2:51 and I'm around 10 minutes away from the river two towns over. This son of a bitch put up a fight when I broke in, got me right in the jaw and now I've got a busted lip and definitely gonna have a bruise in the morning.

You should see the other guy though, he does not look nearly as good as I do right now.

Oh that's right, I haven't explained what's going on yet. Well, to put your mind at ease, Mr. Henderson here is.. well, dead. He deserved it, trust me. He was touching girls at the high school. This bastard was reported to police twice before it came to me, so I reported the officer to the captain of the precinct and got him suspended without pay for failing to do his job properly, not for me but for the girls.

You sound like the biggest ass kisser right now.

Shut up.

I broke into Mr. Hendersons house half an hour ago and knocked him out cold with a baseball bat. Ok 'knocked out' is an understatement, how about bashed his head in? Yep, thats the one. I put him in a black bag and dragged him to my trunk. Mr. Henderson is a small, round, 5'6 man with Homer Simpson hair and creepy glasses. He is, sorry, was the history teacher at the high school around the corner from my work.

I work for the FBI and we have precincts set up in towns outside of the city because the police departments are understaffed. I'm here temporarily but I quite like it here. I usually come across someone that isn't really relevant -but still is as revolting as the other suspects-  and track them for a while, no one would suspect me to be the "town murderer" because it's not uncommon to search files for possible suspects in other major cases.

This isn't my first victim, but there was news that less than a dozen people have gone missing in the past 6 months. I've only killed 5 people- oh wait, make it 6. But the others were not me. I'm actually working on one of my previous cases. Only 2 of my 6 victims have been investigated for their "mysterious disappearances".

Little do they know..

Usually when I get rid of someone I make it believable to their friends and family. I take personal items, watches, cards, shoes, leave a note saying some bullshit about how they needed to get out or whatever, destroy their cell phone and laptop, burn their passport and clean the scene for any of my DNA, yada yada yada... Oh and I use their credit card to buy a ticket to some random town in a different state to really make it believable.

Obviously I cant use this excuse for every murder that I commit. So, like the 2 cases I'm investigating, I leave some murders to be investigated as a missing person since its rather suspicious that suspected criminals just keep fleeing the state.

Being an FBI detective as well as a murderer has its perks. When we track killers, we have to become the killer, like what Derek Morgan does on criminal minds. We re-enact how we believe the murder went and find holes. These little holes are where the killer didn't try hard enough to fill. These holes are little microscopic things that the rabbit didn't hide before hopping away with bloody paws. so we dig and dig until and find the rabbit. But me being the digger and the rabbit, there are no holes in the first place, there is no way anyone could trace it back to me. Ive gone over each kill in my mind, analysing and re-analysing, trying to find holes, except there are none.

Cocky much?

My partner Damien Warner and I just do easy work like track pedos and investigate weird animal cases that surprisingly -and disturbingly- pop up more often than not. Major cases do come around once in a while, like a possible homicide, kidnapping or missing person but I actually like my job.

My fingers tapping on the steering wheel to a song from my 'Nighttime Adventures' playlist. The title is code for 'Nighttime Murders' but if someone stole my phone, that would be quite the surprise. I can't function without music, I'd go insane if its quiet for too long. This is going to sound cliche, but music saved me and there are so many ways music helps me cope with the stress of being a killer/FBI agent/orphan.

Ass kisser.

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Pulling over into the trees that surround the river driving further towards the docks, its currently 3:00am and I'm dreading having to drag this guy, he's little but that doesn't mean he is light. I get to the dock and park about 5 metres, making my way to the trunk and I start dragging the bag from my trunk when I spot something 3 metres away.

It looks like... a girl?

No dumbass it's a deer

What is she doing here? Now?

She is dragging a massive black bag on the dock and dumping it into the river, she pushes it off and watches it sink, her hair blowing in the wind, I can faintly hear her humming a chilling tune and the corners of her mouth curving into a sinister smile.

That was hot.

Get a hold of yourself Harley.

I'm guessing that it was a body. But who? Was she the other killer and the cause of the other murders? Why? I cant understand why. What reason could she possibly have to kill those people?

My mind racing with so many questions yet I can't tear my eyes away from the almost glorious sight in front of me. The moonlight illuminating her features casting shadows in all the right places. Her 5'8 frame stands tall and her posture is straight, I'm guessing she did a sport like ballet or gymnastics. Her incredibly long carob coloured hair, reaching to her lower back flows gently in the wind like a dandelion wisp floats in the breeze. My eyes trailing from her hair to her figure; Slim, wide hips and small waist, her thighs and ass seem strong and firm, definitely played a sport. Her body adorned with black clothing, paired with the same black converse on her feet as mine.

What? I read books. A lot.

She's so... familiar.

Wait, shit! I'm still holding the bag, I didn't even realise I stopped moving. She must have felt my eyes on her, she seemed to freeze and shiver. I didn't move, I just stood there and watched as she looked me dead in the eyes. In the moonlight, her eyes glowed with a golden haze, forest green circling the the warm amber.

Mesmerising.

She couldn't see the rest of my face because I was smart and put a bandana over to make sure no one could recognise me but I was clenching my jaw almost to the point where it was going to crack.

She wasn't wearing anything to cover her face, which was oval shaped and slim, her skin tan and warm, her cheekbones were strong but still soft, her lips were not full nor thin, just the right size. I noticed she had a scar above her eyebrow, her nose was button but slightly larger than average, it framed her face nicely. She had freckles along her cheeks and across her nose and little bumps of what I assume to be light acne. Her face is young but her body is older. There was also a beauty spot under her right eye. She was undeniably gorgeous.

She looked very familiar, like I've seen her but where? As her eyes scanned me and I shivered with realisation.

I've never been caught before.

Shit.

Was she doing what I was doing?

Is she going to tell?

God I'm such a durak.

(Translation: Fool/Idiot)

As her eyes reached my hands and they widened in shock, probably having the worst possible assumption as to what was in the large, black, oddly shaped bag that will tear any second.

I'm fucked.

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Here is Harley Michaels the second main character in 1st Degree. He's a little bit of a cupcake on the inside but dont be fooled. ;)

Don't forget to like and comment sexy.

<3 Liz