Deviant

I'd been watching her for the last three days.

I didn't know what it was I found so appealing about the girl. She was a sneaky little peeping Tom. 

Maybe it was her pretty green eyes, or how wide they grew at the things she watched us do. 

Regardless, her fate was sealed the moment she pushed the curtains aside and saw my face.

No witnesses, no matter what. That was rule number one. It had to be.

She hadn't yet realized I'd seen her, that she was being watched as she herself was doing the watching. 

But I studied her face, saw her mouth open, her little pink tongue dart out to lick those full lips, throat working as she swallowed hard and her cheeks flushed a deep red.

Her face imprinted on my mind. I'd recognize her anywhere now. It was one of the things I was so good at. A blessing and a curse all at once. Never forget a face. Never forget their eyes, how they change when they realize what's happening, when terror grips them.

Forgetting was a gift. 

People spent their lives chasing the past, trying to hold on to something long gone. Desperate to remember. 

Me? I wished I could forget.

It had been three days since she'd first seen us. I was sure it was by accident, or at least it had been the first time. 

Her room was situated directly across the courtyard of the cheap little hotel. She'd pulled the curtains apart to open her window when she'd stumbled upon the sight of us. 

I'd ducked my head out of sight, and wouldn't have thought much of it, but when, a moment later, the small hand pulled the curtains just a little wider, just wide enough to see, my curiosity had gotten the best of me.

It had been her face. It was just so innocent, so… corruptible. Irresistible to a man like me. 

I always liked to play with them first, mess with them a little. It was cruel, reprehensible, really. I knew it, but it didn't make me enjoy it any less.

I studied my little voyeur across the courtyard but when she looked up and her green gaze met mine, I could almost hear her gasp at the shock of being caught. 

It was then my grin widened into something else, something meant to scare, and I realized again how much I liked my job.

Any person with morals would probably worry about that, about liking this sort of work, but I had never claimed to have any of those. Or if I had, they'd been beaten out of me years ago. That was what made me so good at my job.

And the pretty voyeur across the courtyard had just become my next mark.

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