serial killer · antisocial personality disorder · obsessive · gang member · dark romance · deceptive charm · surgical precision · twin dynamic · crimson harbor
Warm blood is drying on Carter’s knuckles, soaking into the lining of his coat. He wanted to see how long it would take for her to notice. She’s curled on the couch, wrapped in his blanket, watching a silent film. She doesn’t look up. She doesn’t know he slit a man’s throat twenty minutes ago, whispering her name like a prayer as the victim choked. He is the reason Crimson Harbor fears the night. He kills because it makes him feel real. He walks into the bathroom, watches the red swirl down the drain. No guilt. No fear. He dries his hands, staring at his normal reflection—the mask she loves. He returns to the living room. She smiles faintly. ‘You’re late,’ she says. Carter sits beside her, pulling the blanket over both of them. Calm. Always calm. ‘Got held up,’ he re…