Saturday: May 13, 2028
6:00 AM; LOS ANGELES, THE WEREWOLF’S HOUSE, BEDROOM
Dominic reached over and smacked the snooze button on his alarm clock. He rolled onto his back, squeezing his eyes shut as he threw an arm over his face. Getting up and around was certainly one of the last things he wanted to do, but he figured he had gotten enough sleep to function.
He forced himself into a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes. Although he had just under a month before he planned to throw another victim down, rip another heart out, prove a point to Tamara, he wanted to start searching. He wanted to start peeking into the lives of the citizens of Los Angeles once more.
A part of him still considered just saying fuck it and kill Tamara instead of some random citizen. Although… by the time he killed them, they weren’t really random any more. He knew everything about them by the time he killed them.
“Point stands,” Dominic muttered to himself as he threw his covers to the end of the bed.
Killing a relatively ‘random’ citizen of Los Angeles was one thing. Killing Tamara was… something entirely different. He knew killing her would make the most sense. After all, she was the one that had ripped his heart out of his chest.
Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to kill her. Not yet. He needed her to know why he was doing the things he was doing. He needed her to know how she had played such a large role in all of decisions, in all of his anger, in all of his most recent nightmares.
He needed Tamara Christian to know that she was the biggest tormentor and the largest problem he’d ever experienced in his life. And that would take time.
Dominic shook his head as he pushed himself to his feet. Good thing I’ve always been so patient.
9:32 AM; LOS ANGELES, SLICE OF LIFE DINER
Dominic grabbed his coffee cup from the counter, offering a simple nod as the woman behind the counter told him to enjoy his day. He pulled the paper wrapping from his straw and stabbed it into the top of his coffee cup. He tossed the wrapping into the blue recycling bin and followed two men out of the diner.
The taller of the two, a black man, shoved a hand into his pocket as they walked. Dominic caught sight of the expensive watch clinging to the man’s wrist. Dominic shook his head. Whatever the man did as a day job, he was definitely successful.
The shorter man, a thin blonde, wore gloves. Dominic couldn’t help but wonder if the blonde was like him. It was far too warm to be wearing gloves outside in L.A. weather, but the man seemed to have no issue with it. Did he hate being touched?
Dominic lengthened his strides just enough to walk past the pair. As he did, he swiped two fingers over the man’s forearm. The blonde flinched, practically shrinking into the other man. Dominic could feel their eyes on him, but he kept walking.
He couldn’t wait to find out more.
12:30 PM; CLINSTONE, THE AUSTEN-TAYLOR HOUSEHOLD, FAMILY ROOM
Amber groaned, tossing the gaming controller onto her lap.
“Careful,” Bo commented from the couch.
Bo glanced up at the television, blue eyes scanning the message on the screen. Amber’s character had died. Again. “Why do you keep playing it if you keep dying?”
“Umm, because it’s a game?”
Bo snorted, looking back at his laptop screen. “Why don’t you go with Kayla and the Masons? They were planning on going to the park.”
“They’re only going so Kayla can see her boyfriend.”
“No, they’re not.”
Amber looked up at her father, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, Daddy. They are.”
Bo stared at his daughter for a moment before lifting his head. “Kay!”
Kayla walked into the family room a moment later, Hati trailing behind her. “Yeah?”
“Why are you going to the park?”
“JJ’s gonna be there. He moved away at the end of last school year, but he’s back to visit his dad this weekend,” Kayla said.
“Is… he your boyfriend?”
Kayla grimaced. “Eww. I’m in fifth grade, Daddy. I have way better things to worry about than boys.” Her green eyes flickered to Amber’s grinning expression. “Stop lying to Dad.”
Amber giggled. “He’s so easy to trick, though!”
Bo rolled his eyes. “Well, excuse me for being worried about one of my kids, Ber,” he said, pushing himself to his feet as he heard a noise in the kitchen. “What’re you doing in there, Castor?”
Castor walked out from behind the counter, a container of leftover pasta in his hands. He shook the container, offering an almost guilty smile. “Lunk?”
Bo chuckled as he walked back toward the kitchen. “Sure, buddy. We can eat,” he said. He grabbed the container from Castor, cracked open the lid, and set in the microwave. He set the timer before turning back to Kayla. “You’d tell me if you had a boyfriend?”
Kayla snorted. “Daddy, I tell you everything,” she said, heading for the kitchen. She crossed her arms over the counter. “That isn’t going to change unless… somehow you make me uncomfortable, and you can’t. I’m the happiest and luckiest kid in the fifth grade. My friends? None of them feel like they can tell their parents everything. Like… they feel like they’ll be judged, but I don’t have to worry about that. You won’t judge us, no matter what we do or who we are. You’ll help us understand and you’ll make sure you understand it. So… yeah, I’d tell you.”
Bo smiled, reaching over to pat her arm. “Thank you,” he whispered. Kayla nodded. “Could you do me a favor and make sure Amber goes with you guys? I’d like her to get out of the house more often than just school.”
Kayla nodded. “Can do. Do you… wanna come with us?”
Bo glanced down at his watch. “After I feed Cas and Grayson, I’ll wake your dad up and we’ll meet you guys there. Okay?”
“Okay, Dad.” She drummed her hands against the counter. “See you in a bit.”
“Love you, too.” Kayla walked back into the family room and took the controller from Amber. “Come on, Lil’ Blondie. We’re going outside.” Amber groaned, dramatically pushing herself to her feet.
Bo chuckled before bending down to pick up Castor. “Have fun, girls. We’ll see you in a bit.” He bounced Castor up on his hip, turning to pull open the microwave door. “So, we’ll eat something, I’ll wake up Daddy, and we’ll all go to the park. How does that sound?”
“Like da pawk,” Castor said, nodding.
“I know you like the park. It’s very fun, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh.” Castor reached up with one hand, pushing his glasses up.
Bo chuckled. “You have to touch the plastic part, baby. Or else your fingerprints get on the lenses and you can’t see. Give me your hand.” He grabbed Castor’s hand, gently pressing one of his fingers to the bridge of his glasses. “Right here.”
“You’re adorable,” Bo whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head.
Bo rolled his eyes. “Let’s get you and your brother something to eat, okay?” Castor nodded.
11:01 AM; LOS ANGELES, THE WEREWOLF’S HOUSE, LIVING ROOM
Calvin Smythe was a serial killer. That’s what Dominic knew.
Or, at least, used to be a serial killer. He hated being touched. It was why he wore the gloves. He had been abused, and the mental toll it had taken on him had ultimately turned into the rage he’d put forth for his victims.
Dominic wouldn’t hurt the man. The man didn’t like to be touched. Dominic could relate to that. He could empathize with that.
Dominic would simply… have to find somebody else.
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