Vivian shook her head and closed the laptop lid. "I didn't show you that so you could get all pissed off and vow revenge. I did it so you'd know to be careful. Maybe they're not the only ones trying to fool you. You swear that you're being careful when you choose your victims, but from now on you have to be even more careful. Maybe you should just stop for a while. Not forever, just for a while. A year or so."

"Maybe," said Ken.

He had no intention of stopping. He wasn't going to be stupid about it, but he wasn't going to let those girls think they were oh-so-brave and heroic. She thought she could end his reign of terror by walking around town in a wig? Seriously?

Ken wouldn't lose his cool. Wouldn't take any unnecessary risks. Wouldn't let the intense rage he was feeling work against him.

He wasn't going to promise himself that those bitches would end up in cages. But he would certainly investigate the possibility of making that happen.

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER SEVEN

Charlene groaned, rolled over, and looked at her alarm clock. 1:24. Her shift started in just over half an hour. She slapped her hand around on the nightstand until she located her cell phone, and called Travis.

"Hey," he said.

"I'm sorry, I can't come in today," she told him.

"I never thought you would. Take as long as you need. Until I hear differently, I'll assume that you're not coming in."

"Thanks." Charlene hung up. Her display showed that she had new voice mail messages from eleven different people. She'd give her mother a call so she could pass on a reassuring update. Everybody else could go to hell.

She was tempted to go back to sleep, but she'd had enough nightmares for a while, so she got out of bed. She took a really long, really hot shower. None of Lee's blood had gotten on her, and if any had it would've been washed off by last night's really long, really hot shower, but she vigorously scrubbed at her body anyway. She was tempted to just sit down in the corner and let the water cascade over her while she cried, but, no, that was too pathetic.

She got out of the shower, got dressed, and sat on the couch.

Spending the day watching television probably wouldn't improve her mental state.

Honestly, she couldn't think of any way to spend the day that wouldn't involve her reliving the moment where the bullet tore into Lee's face. She didn't feel any true sympathy for the guy—he had, after all, beat up his ex-wife and threatened to murder his son. The world was a better place without a piece of human garbage like him. It just wasn't easy to cope with the idea that a man had blown his brains out right in front of her and she might have been responsible for things happening that way.