ALL HE could see was red. One screwup after the fucking other. He’d just taken care of the last mess, and now there was another… not that he’d had much chance to see what was going on or to listen in. And he hadn’t dared to get close enough again, but what he’d heard was enough.
So now he waited, the concrete cold as he leaned against it. Whoever had designed this parking lot sure as hell had provided him with plenty of places to hide. He held the cigarette between his fingers as he lay in wait. It was just a prop, but with the number of healthcare professionals who smoked, it was like a costume.
“Night,” a few people in scrubs said as they walked past him. They had no idea they had just passed a tiger. Yes, tonight he was a predator, lithe, strong, and in his youthful prime, ready to strike.
“Have a good evening.” It was easy to be cheerful because he intended to do just that. A plan was forming in his head, and the longer his prey took to show, the more that plan came into focus.
The blood coursed through his veins, and he felt alive right now, anticipation setting his entire being on fire. He practically vibrated with it, and as the plan came together in his mind, his anger and frustration turned into action. He hurried back to his car and got the tire iron out of the trunk, then slipped it under his clothes. He checked the door once again as he closed the trunk and smiled. This was going to go off perfectly. Everything he was doing was in the shadows, and it only convinced him that what he was doing was right. He and Phillip were meant to be together, but he was supposed to have been there for Phillip, not this nurse with the crazy shirt. No matter, the way things lined up for him left no doubt in his mind. The gods had ordained it, and all he had to do was stay on course and he would be rewarded with exactly what he wanted.
Back at his pillar, he hid the old tire iron behind it, well out of sight, and then got out another cigarette and lit it as a few others passed.
“Do you have a light?” a lady in teddy-bear scrubs asked. She looked weary, and he fished out a book of matches.
“You can have them,” he said and tossed her the matchbook without really making eye contact. She thanked him, pausing to light her own cigarette, and then hurried on to catch up with her friend. Invisible—he had gotten so used to being that way, and others seemed content to allow it. He was becoming more and more convinced that he could do anything he wanted.
A few other people passed him without even seeming to notice, but the one he was looking for didn’t come his way. Patience. That’s what he needed, as fewer and fewer people walked out of the hospital. Still, he stood around as cigarette after cigarette burned down, and he hesitated before lighting another.
Then his quarry appeared, still in his scrubs, a bag over his shoulder, hurrying out of the hospital and right toward him, head down, probably tired and not really paying attention. This was like a gift. People didn’t look at what they saw every day, and that played into a predator’s hands. This was going to be so easy. There was no one around, the nurse was alone, and he had control, blessed control. Energy welled from within him and excitement grew, the way it always did when he took action to make what he wanted come about. His fingers itched with anxiousness. This was going to feel really good.