Every night, you sit with the knife balanced on one knee. Every night, you run through each iteration, each possibility, each second leading up to the moment when you will step up behind your target and use the knife to slit their throat. Just another calculation. Another number. Another step closer to what you will become. You want it. So badly you can taste it. You want it now. But you are at the mercy of the numbers, and the numbers say to wait. So you wait, and you watch, and you listen. You’re told the FBI suspects that the next murder will take place in the Grand Ballroom. You’re told they’re watching it. Waiting, just like you. You take that to mean that someone has seen the pattern—just a fraction of it, just a piece. In your quietest moments, when you’re staring at the blade, you wonder who at the FBI figured it out. You wonder if that person truly appreciates what you have done, what you are doing, what you will become.
What do You think about All In: (The Naturals #3)?
