Who's To Blame?

Kylie, with her stunning green eyes and her exotic looks, is extremely outspoken. She speaks her mind, doesn't know how to keep a secret, and is a self-proclaimed tom boy. Not once has she accepted the role society has chosen for her, to be a seen-but-not-heard, sweet and innocent seventeen year old girl. One day, after a fight with a particularly prissy girl, which she'd be glad to say she won, Kylie is sent home. Deciding to save herself some trouble, she cuts through some back alleys and behind a specifically sleazy bar, she witnesses a murder take place.
Kylie should've called the police, she should've turned her back and ran, but she didn't. She stood, entranced by a stranger's death, and even more fascinated by the murderer who stood before her. She'd never seen him around her small town where everybody knew everybody, which was a feat in itself. One look at his face assured Kylie that she would have recognized him had she met him before.
Sharp cheekbones and steely gray eyes caught her staring, and by then, it was too late. Kylie stood rooted to her spot, too hypnotized to run away, expecting to be killed at any moment. As strange as it was, the murderer didn't leap forward, knife in hand. He didn't turn and run from the scene of the crime. He didn't even try to explain. Instead, he asked Kylie to dinner. Desperate to know who this person was, Kylie agreed, and from there on she found herself sliding down a slippery slope, falling deeper and deeper into an obsession-like state. This person who committed murder like it was nothing, ordered expensive drinks she couldn't pronounce, and who told her stories about life on the run wanted her as company. She couldn't have been any happier. His world was unique, exciting, and so much different from the tongue-in-cheek society she was expected to be a part of. Needless to say, she wanted in.