So how do you meet a killer, or in my case, a serial killer? You would think that I would meet him in a darkened alleyway, or perhaps on a hike through the forest as I unwillingly stumbled upon his bloody dumping grounds. That would make for an adrenaline-filled start to our story, our dance of death, but that's not h...
He pushed me against the wall. One leg between my thighs, one hand holding my wrists above my head, and the other with a dagger to my throat. I glared at him. "You got me where you wanted me, now what are you going to do about it?" He let out a deep breathy laugh leaning in closer to my ear, pressing the knife a littl...
Revenge. I'm familiar with it. You have to be when you're the firstborn son of a notorious mafia leader. Death and vengeance have been the very foundations of my life. So who in their fucking mind would be stupid enough to cross me? My brother and I have been wrongfully convicted of a crime we didn't commit. We know...