Insane - Who Are You To Judge? (Gripping Psychological Thriller)

Chapter 37 - Avery

The sun is angry today. She has no intention of being kind to anyone as she throws her flames, hurling towards Southhurst. I lather up with 35 SPF, but I have no doubt that she will have slapped me a few times before I return home.

Regardless of her bad temper, I don't feel I can justify driving to the town centre at this time of year, since it's only a fifteen-minute walk.

I wouldn't say that I prefer the winter months, but I definitely prefer the attire that they require. There's something about dressing in a thick, faux fur jacket with cashmere-lined leather gloves and high-knee boots that makes me feel so...expensive.

As opposed to the short-sleeved tee and cream bodycon skirt I am currently wearing with an old pair of flip-flops.

Of course I have on a brown-tinted pair of shades worth as much as your car, so at least I've got a little bit of a price tag on me.

"Hey, Maya." I scruff up the little girl's hair and she lets out an ear-piercing giggle.

"I like the hair," I tell Heidi as I approach the counter. The last time I was in here she was sporting split ends, tatty dreadlocks and a wonky fringe. She has since then chopped the entire lot off into a pixie cut with pink streaks painted through it. "It suits you."

As she smiles, her chin folds in two and blood rushes to her plump cheeks. "Oh, thank you, dear. I got it done on Thursday. Fancied a bit of a change."

"Well I don't like it," a grumpy voice declares, coming from the doe-eyed face of her daughter.

Heidi scowls at her and Maya storms off into the back of the café. She then turns to me, rolls her eyes and laughs. "She used to hang – and I mean literally hang – from my hair almost every night. She hasn't quite got over the fact she can't do that anymore."

After sprinkling chocolate powder onto my latte, she hands it to me and asks, "So, what's the deal with this new guy then?"

I laugh at her shameless nosiness. Usually, if someone asks me a question as direct as this I would shut them down almost immediately, but I've known Heidi since I moved back here ten years ago, so I've got used to her intrusive ways.

"Well, I've been seeing him for a while now," I start. Heidi is leaning over the counter with her eyes wide like she's her daughter being read a bedtime story. "I mean, it's going good – I like him."

Suddenly her facial expression takes a turn. "Oh come on," she exclaims, "You like him? You've got to give me more than that. What's he like? Is he good looking, is he funny, does he tend to your...needs?" She gives me a sideways glance. Poor woman, her needs probably tend to sex since Maya was born. That's what kids will do to you.

"Of course he's funny. I don't know he's just...safe. He's reliable and affectionate, but at the same time he isn't afraid to knock me down a few pegs when I need it. He makes me feel like normal."

"Oh, sweetie, I'm so happy for you." Heidi has such a warmth to her voice. "I have to be honest, I get so worried about you, always coming in here at the weekends and working, then you go back to the office and work some more. I'm so glad that you are getting some male attention."

I've had just about enough of this conversation now. I thank her, grab the mug from the counter and sit in my corner.

I've only just managed to get Julian out of my head. Oh wait, there he is again. That slimy bastard really does know how to get under my skin. He always has. He hasn't popped his head up since early Thursday morning, but I have no doubt that he will come out to play very soon.

I hate not knowing what his end game is. Truly it is eating away at my brain. I know that is exactly what he wants and I would love nothing more than to screw up his plans, but I can't stop my stupid brain from trying to figure out what he is up to. One thing that the years have taught me about Julian is that you have to stay three steps ahead of him to survive.

There are some crumbs on my seat and today's newspaper left from the previous occupant. I brush off the crumbs and open up the newspaper, to entertain myself until he arrives.

I can't stop the smile as I read one of the headlines Grimm Reaper, read more on page 5.

When the media first dubbed me the Grimm Reaper, I have to say I was not the biggest fan of the name. I mean, I suppose it's a clever play on words with the Brothers Grimm, but I was hoping for something so much more daunting. However, as the name popped up more often in newspapers and on the news, I started to warm to it. And now? I'm quite fond of the idea of being the incarnation of death.

I suck in a large amount of coconut-y goodness as I read the headline about me for today.

Immediately, I spit it out.

The Grimm Reaper strikes again: Four women found brutally murdered last night

I read the article with frantic eyes. Unless I have a literal alter ego who is murdering people in my sleep, the Grimm Reaper is definitely not to blame for this. So why do they think I am?

Four women found dead...Grimm Brothers' quotes on the walls...etching of a spinning wheel...police say the signs point to the Grimm Reaper

I can't believe my eyes. I can't believe what I am seeing.

Why would they do this? What are they planning?

Up until now I have merely received less than pleasant letters and a few daunting threats, but this? This is a whole new level. This isn't the work of some teenager who is bored with their own life so wants to mess with mine. This is the work of someone who is out of their mind crazy and dead-set on revenge.

And I am the one who pissed them off.