My Daddy the Serial Killer

Chapter 14- Tonight Was Supposed to be a Special Night

Knife and syringe at arm's reach, Jeeper's dying down, and hate circulating my veins.

I am beyond ready.

I pulled open open the heavy wooden door, and as soon as it creaked open high beam lights from above shot through the room.

I scanned the room.

The barn was very large, had 2 levels, had hay scattered, and there were horse stables covering the perimeter of the room.

Goosebumps replaced the Jeepers as I took a step forward. 

"Hello, partner." said a disembodied voice. His voice lingered a bit in the large barn before a man stepped out from one of the stables. 

My heart fluttered as I looked at the man from head to toe.

Oh my God.... He's... BEAUTIFUL!!!!!

Shut Up Emma!!!!!!! Get your shit together! Just because he's a Leo Dicaprio look-alike doesn't mean you should give two shits about him!

"Are you already infatuated by my charming looks?" he asked in a narcissistic manner.

My face grew hot for a moment, and before I could retaliate his face turned into a frown as his eyes landed on my stomach.

"What the hell is that?" he asked bitterly.

My embarrassment quickly turned to rage at his rudeness and I answered, "Who the hell do you think you are! It's a six month fetus in my belly, you got a problem? Now who the hell are you and where's Jonah!"

The beautiful young man, perhaps in his early 20's, blinked and was speechless for a moment.

Then he returned back to his charming manner and said, "Well there has been a change of plans tonight my dear Emmaline."

"You haven't answered my question, who are you and where's Jonah!"

He chuckled for a bit and replied, " I'm Brady Yorks. I trust you've heard about me, and I know everything about you."

" Yeah, sorry but I don't like to spend my free time stalking people and harassing them with creepy text messages at night!"

He tipped his cowboy hat and smiled.

"Dear Emmaline, it wasn't me who's been doing the dirty work. It was my dear long lost brother."

My heart skipped a beat. The knife hidden in my pants began to burn with anticipation.

"Oh, Constant. It's time to begin our little reunion."

I heard shuffling and footsteps from above me. It was coming from the second floor. There were stairs leading up to it, and there came down a young man with scraggly blonde hair, pale skin, and he had that wide eyed Bambi look in him.

Constant. This was that scared little boy from 10 years ago. Here he is, all grown up and still had that scared, hesitant look on his face.

I took a closer look at his face and noticed very long and distinct cuts on both sides of his cheeks.

His eyes never left mine.

"Emmaline," began Brady. "You've met my brother Constant before. Do you see how well built this young man is? He's 18 you know. Just a few months older than you are my dear. When I first found him when he was 16, my God, he was a limp little fool. I was already 20 by then. He was still living with that disgusting middle-class family in Colorado. They didn't quite understand you, did they Constant?"

Constant continued to stare at me and whispered something to Brady.

"Settle down Constant, there will be a change of plans. As I was saying, Constant remained a troubled soul after he witnessed our mother's dead corpse in his own bed. That adoptive family of his sent him to a "special" school for troubled boys. No brother of mine will attend such horrendous establishments. Being 20, I was able to adopt him. But of course his family refused. It was such a tragedy that they all died in a house fire before Constant's 17th birthday."