Chapter 3

A week later, Kevin met Wynter one hot Wednesday evening.

It had happened in this way: Nestled in Miami Beach was the prestigious Espace hotel and suites. The hotel was loved and well-favoured by the rich and affluent elites, and the reason was not far-fetched. With exquisite building designs and well-structured building decorations, the hotel was a hub for the money shakers of Miami. This evening then, the hotel bouquet hall was filled up with guests who had been invited from various countries across the world to grace the baby shower of Robert Summerton, an old rich Texan oil mogul whose wife had miraculously given birth to triplets.

In the corner of the room, Kevin could be seen fidgeting with the lapels of his tailored jacket. He was feeling uncomfortable in the snugly fitted suit that he had worn. What am I doing here? He asked himself as he eyed his suit sardonically. He had been invited by the oil mogul's younger brother, Chad Summerton, a not too close friend. Though Kevin had declined the invitation, telling Chad he had work to do, his friend had threatened him with a rebuttal of any future partnership with him. Kevin knew Chad do not bluff when it comes to business, and for this reason, he accepted the invitation grudgingly. ‎

Kevin regarded the beautiful waitresses as they served different assortments of champagnes to the guests, carrying their trays elegantly, with a charming smile plastered on their faces like a beauty pageant. He signals to one of the waitresses, and she came to him, offering him her tray. He lifted a glass and gave her a slight smile which lit up her face. He regarded her flat backside as she sashayed away from his side. What a cow, he thought and grimaced.

“Hey! What are you looking at? “A female voice said.

Kevin turned abruptly only to see the face of Wynter. She was dressed in a dark chemise evening gown that clung to her figure and seductively accentuated her curves. She paused before him and smiled. He had a sudden tight feeling across his chest. The woman smiling at him now was the exact opposite of the woman who had talked to him harshly in the store. He had utterly wiped her from his mind due to the cold treatment he had received from her. But seeing her now, the memories all came rushing back, and he quickly pulled himself together and smiled at her.

“Well, hello,” he said, giving her his best charming smile. “How nice to see you again. You seem cheerful tonight."

“Do I?” Wynter said revealing even white teeth as she smiled at him.

“Yeah! You take my breath away," Kevin said regarding her body.

“Indeed!” she replied coolly.

Kevin looked at her face, and he knew his compliment was wasted. It was as if he had said she looked like a toad. What the hell is up with this girl? He wondered, a feeling of frustration uncoiling in him.

She noticed his concentrated look and returned it with a hard stare.

“Mr. Carter, it's seems to me you have the knack of been everywhere. Tell me, don't you ever rest?” she asked, arching her brows.‎

“Actually, I'm a restless dynamo, ma'am," he said, his gaze lingering on the front of her chest. After a pause, he said, “Do you care for a drink?”

“Yeah! I'd love one," she replied.

He beckoned to one of the waitresses. The waitress came, and he lifted a glass of chilled champagne from the tray and handed it to Wynter, who nodded her thanks.

“Let’s go somewhere quiet," he said, watching her face closely.

She studied his face for a moment.

“Alright,” she said.

Kevin offered her his hand. She took his hand, and together, they both moved towards the balcony of the bouquet hall. When they got there, Wynter rested her hips on the balcony, her eyes on the guests in the room.

He stared at her, watching her expressionless face closely. There was something about her. Something so strange and yet so exciting, and just by looking at her, he could feel his desire for her overpowering him. She turned her eyes away and saw him staring at her, a hungry look in his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Err…err…nothing," Kevin said. “So, tell me, how do you get invited here?"

Wynter smiled and then gave him a blow-by-blow account of how she had heard of the baby shower from one of her female friends who were very close to the oil mogul family. From there, their conversation switched to different topics, and as she talked, he watched her face, the way her eyes lit up, the way her mouth twists to a warm smile, or her face to a deep frown. Her face was so unique and alive, and by the end of their discussion, he knew he had memorized every feature of her face.

She looked at her gold wristwatch and grimaced.

“Well, it has been a lovely evening, Mr. Carter," she said, moving away from the balcony. “I think I should get going."

"I will take you home," he replied.

“Don’t bother!” she said, smiling. But it wasn't a pleasant smile, and it made her face looked as if it had been hacked out of stone.

"It's no problem,” he edged on, “I'll take you."

“I’ll take myself!” she answered, “don’t fuss about it, alright?”

Then she gave him a curt nod, and as she turned to go, he grabbed her hand and jerked her to him, making her body come hard against his massive chest. They both stood, looking into each other eyes. His chest was heaving heavily, and he could hear his heartbeat. Her cool unafraid gaze disconcerted him.

There was a sudden faraway look in her eyes and what she might be thinking at that moment was hard to tell. Unable to resist himself, he crushed his mouth down on hers. He might have been kissing the wall. Her lips did not even part to kiss him back. For a brief moment, they were like this, and then as he was about to deepen the kiss, she shoved him off, her eyes blazing; she slapped him heavily across the face, sending him reeling.

Completely stunned, Kevin held his burning cheek, his face twisted with raw anger.

“What’s that for? I thought we were having a moment,” he snapped.

Her eyes were glittering, her face white, she pointed a well-manicured finger at him.

“What moment? You must be cracked. Take your paws off me. I'm not one of your dumb little whores," and with that, she turned on her heels and walked away.

Kevin stood there like an effigy. He watched as she moved away from him, deliberately waving her hips at him. Something was definitely wrong with her, he told himself, and there, at that moment, he cursed himself for being a slave to the whims of women, and he cursed himself for letting Wynter make him look weak and stupid.

But her indifferent attitude and uncaring nature had snapped something in his head, and he knew if he did not have his way with her, he would forever be restless. Don't worry bitch, he thought, biting his lower lip; I'll make you mine, then I'm going to dump your ass.

Amorous as he was, horny as he was, if he could have looked into a crystal ball and seen what was coming, he would have wiped out the thought of having his way with Wynter and got the hell out of the sweet-smelling Miami city.

***

A strange dream brought Bill Razor instantly awake. He looked around the room, squinting his eyes in the darkness. He looked at his tousled bed and grimaced. His naked body was drenched with sweat. He always sleeps commando. He rose from the bed and crossed the room to the window. Quietly, he tilted the louver of the window and squinted his eyes, looking through it for any danger lurking in the darkness of the night. His built-in instinct told him nothing was amiss, but he ignored it. One cannot be too careful these days, he thought.

He moved away from the window and entered his bathroom. He turned on the shower, and jet cold water began to spray on his naked body, soothing his massive chest, thighs, and groin areas. He reached for the towel on the wall rack and dried himself thoroughly. He twirled the towel around his waist and walked into the inner room. He crossed to a side of the room, where a big standing mirror stood with an attached dresser.

As Razor stood facing the mirror, he touched his face, and a feeling of wild rage, guilt, and regret went through him. Nobody would have believed he had been very handsome before. He drew in a sharp breath and grimaced. His mind went back to how his face had been messed up, and he bit his lower lip hard. He had been working for the men of the underworld then. He had been a highly trained professional killer, best among his peers, and the underworld men had used him the way a cleaner uses a mopping stick. They had sent him on an operation, and he had got stupid by underestimating his enemies. The people he had been sent to kill had sprung a surprise attack on him. They had caught him and beat the hell out of him. The most affected part had been his face. They had left him half dead, having messed him up pretty bad. He had survived the attack, but his face had never remained the same.

He switched his mind to the present and began to think fast and hard about the woman he had seen talking with Kevin at the food store a few days ago. Though he could not hear the conversation between them, he knew Kevin was interested in her. Who was she, he wondered? Was Kevin interested in her too? He smiled wickedly, knowing that if Kevin was interested in her, he would definitely lead him to her, just like the way Kevin had unknowingly led him to the other girls. He had been tailing Kevin for some time now, and he had always managed to dodge two of the detective's men who had been assigned to watch Kevin.

He was surprised to see that Kevin was not even aware of the detective men who had been keeping an eye on him, watching his every move, and even if he (Kevin) was aware, he never seemed bothered about their presence in his life. He was more concerned about his conquests of getting laid with more women. Don't worry; he told himself, you will fix that bastard."

After thinking for a while, he moved away from the mirror and walked into the living room. He crossed the room to his kitchenette and walked to a portable refrigerator. He brought out an ice pack that he put on a countertop, opened a whiskey bottle, and fixed himself a drink. Holding the glass cup in his hand, he stared into the darkness of the room, allowing the whisky to calm him. He felt so much relief after the drink. He left the kitchenette and crossed the living room a wooden door. He opened the door and entered a room.

The room was dingy and very dirty. He moved towards the room switch and snapped it on. Suddenly the room was flooded with hard bright light from a naked overhead lamp. The ceilings were dirty white, and the walls were plastered with old and torn photographs of a woman. In the corner of the room were drawing boards of different sizes, bundles of maps, and a huge roll of papers. Razor lowered his heavy bulk into an easy chair behind a desk.

The desk was littered with dirty building plans, blueprints, crumpled drawing sheets, pencils, rulers, and compass of different sizes. He picked a pen and began to write on paper. When he was done, he folded it neatly, picked another fresh piece, and began to write on it. He repeated this process again and again and again, and then finally satisfied, he stopped. He packed the folded papers together with a rubber band and leaned back in his chair.

This goes to that intelligent ass detective, and he thought an evil glint in his eyes as he stared at the piles of folded papers. Razor had heard about Detective Tomayo Daniels, and he knew he was the best detective-lieutenant in Miami City. If anyone were to give him any problem, the detective would definitely top the list.

He brooded about Tomayo for a moment, and then shifted his thoughts to Kevin. He knew one way or another Kevin would still find his way to a woman, and he had to have his plan ready. The only problem was that no ideas seem to be forthcoming. His brain was stormed, and he could not think straight at that moment. This made him angry and restless. Suddenly, he slammed his fist hard on the desk, the whole room shook violently, and he screamed out as if he had been poked with a hot iron.

“Kevin! Kevin!” His voice echoed in the small room, “I'm gonna fix you so bad you will beg for a quick death! You are a dead man! I'm gonna cut off your head and eat your brains," he bawled, gritting his teeth, anger seething from his eyes.

Suddenly he fell on the ground and started weeping. It was the cry of a wounded lion. His body shook as the wave of tears washed over him. As he cried, he was thinking about his pasts, and just then, a familiar name-dropped into his mind. A name of the woman he had loved and cherished. A woman who had left him for another man.

“Angelina! I'm so sorry, Angelina! “He muttered, the words tumbling out of his mouth. He raised his head and stared at photographs on the wall, his eyes black and lost, then he began to talk aloud. “Do you hear me, Angelina? I didn't mean it, baby. He made me do it. I'm so sorry, so awfully sorry."

He could see her now. He could see the blood on her face, her large eyes, half-open, staring sightlessly, and her mouth, which had drawn down in a snarl of fear. She had looked hideous and mean even in death. And yet, he loved her still.

Just then, a red mist descended on his eyes, and from that moment on, he had no idea what he was doing. It was as if someone from the outside of himself was controlling his body. He got to his feet and went berserk like a sabotaged robot.

He began to fling his notes on the tables, kicking the chair violently, hitting the wall with his head and fists savagely. His body was uncontrollable and behaving out of its own will. After a while, he stopped and look around the room, a vicious look on his face.

The room looked like the aftermath of Hurricane Lucy. Everything was in disarray. The chairs were upturned; different papers littered the floor, the table was in a haphazard position, the walls looked rough and bloody. Trickle of blood was slid down slowly from a cut on his head to his shirt, but he was not bothered. Suddenly, he began to laugh, hard barking laugh, his eyes shining brightly, twinkling dangerously with deadly intents.

“Angelina!” he screamed. “Don’t worry, baby! I'm going to cut a big stake out of his damned body. I promise you! “And he continued to laugh and howl likes a wolf.

***

The time was twenty minutes past eight. Kevin was sitting in one of the sofas in the living room, a Cuban cigar burning anxiously between his fingers. He had called Roxy that morning, telling her that he was sick and won't be able to make it to the office that day and that she should take care of things for him. Roxy had tried to complain, but he had quickly cut her off by ending the call. The problem with him was that he could not stop thinking about Wynter. Inwardly, he knew if he had gone to the office that morning, he wouldn't be able to bring himself to do anything.

Before he had left the Espace hotel the other night, he had talked to Chad. He had coaxed him to find out about the address of a woman named Wynter on the guest list. Chad had lots of friends in Miami, and Kevin knew if anyone was to give him precise info about Wynter, Chad was the right man for the job.

Kevin drew in smoke into his lungs and stubbed out the Cigar inside a gold ashtray. There was something about Wynter that challenged him, something that knifed at his being. She was like a fever in his blood. He had never met any woman like her. He touched his cheeks lightly with his fingers. He could still feel the pain there.

He could never forget how she had bitten him. Even though he had wanted to strangle her for what she had done, something strange and yet euphoric had uncoiled inside of him. It was as if he loved the way she had pushed him off.

He had watched her face lit up when he had pushed her away that night, and he could have sworn she was also feeling the same sexual magnetism that he had felt, but with that hard look in her eyes, he could be wrong. He knew with his regards, and he was irresistible to women. The problem was that he had never met a fiery tigress like Wynter.

Just then, Kevin's cell phone rang. He snapped out of his thoughts and picked it up. Then he saw Chad's name. His heart began to pound wildly, and with unsteady hands, he slid his finger on the screen and put it to his ear.

“Hey, man! I've been waiting for your call all morning, man! “Kevin said, the words tumbling out of his mouth. " Did you get it? Did you? "

“Calm yourself down, man!” Chad replied angrily. “You seem so worked up!”

“Don’t …worry!” Kevin stammered. “I’m fine! I'm fine. Did you get it? "

“I got it alright! Just pull yourself together, alright?"

“Okay! Okay! Now spill it out," Kevin replied, his body flooding with relief. He was already sweating violently, and he could feel the sweat rolling off him."

“She has an apartment on the second floor of the Art Deco district in South Beach. The building is three blocks away from the main road. The house is painted white and pink. Her apartment number is 12 It won't be hard to find."

“My man!” Kevin said, beaming with a smile. “You the main man."

“Hey! What's up with you and this chick, bro?” Chad asked.

“Nothing, man,” he replied, “Just to know her more, that’s all."

They chatted for a while, and then Kevin finally hung up. He took the phone off his ear and for the first time that morning, and he was able to breathe easily. He looked at his wristwatch.

The time was precisely past nine.

He knew he could still make it to Wynter's apartment. Kevin moved swiftly into his bedroom and crossed the room to his clothing rack. He slid easily into a loose round-neck t-shirt and struggled into a pair of dark Levis. He crossed the room to his shoe rack and wore a pair of Sebago loafers. He then walked back to the living room, picked up his car keys, and rushed out of the apartment.

***

Hidden in his Toyota car, the darkness of the night concealing him, Razor, who had been patiently watching Kevin's apartment for some time now, watched as Kevin rushed out of his apartment and drove away. He sat bolt upright and stretched his legs. He knew where Kevin was going. No one needed him. Kevin was going to see another woman. It was only a woman that could have made Kevin rushed out of his apartment the way he had rushed out. Just then, he saw two men ran out from a corner of the street. They both slid into a grey sedan car and drove after Kevin. He smiled wickedly. The two detectives were still monitoring Kevin's movement.

Razor did not even waste time. He fired the engine and uncouthly edged out his Porsche out of the space where he parked it. He drove hard and fast on the highway, and he only slowed down and drove at a slower speed when he saw the red-tail light of the detective's men's car. He followed the car for thirty minutes, and then he stopped his car in a side street when he saw that the sedan car had pulled up opposite a large apartment building painted white. He narrowed his bright evil eyes, and it picked out Kevin's Ferrari, which was also parked right in front of the apartment building. He smiled wickedly. For them to have parked in front of the building, he knew either Kevin was going to one of the apartments or was already in the apartment.

Through the windshields of his car, he watched as the two detectives slid out of the car, grimed expression on their faces. He knew the two detectives would not follow Kevin into the building. Their duty was just to know Kevin's whereabouts and to look out for him.

Razor saw a burning red light, and he knew the men were already smoking. His lips pulled off his yellow-stained teeth in a vicious snarl. These two dumb fools are smoking, he thought angrily. Smoking was leisure you can't even afford, especially when you were told to watch out for someone like him, but these two men did not know this, and for this reason, he knew he would soon be killing another woman.

He picked up his tool bag beside him, opened the car door, and ran out of the car. He ducked into a dark doorway and waited. He watched the two men closely, and when he saw they were no longer paying any attention to the white apartment building, he moved away from where he was and slunk along in the shadows, invisible in his black clothes. He hugged the wall, stepped from house doorway to house doorway until he reached the white apartment building, and slinked inside it. That was when he saw Kevin climbing up a flight of stairs and quickly and silently, like a jungle panther after its prey, Razor followed him.

***

Kevin Carter had located Wynter's apartment in South Beach the way you will locate blood on snow. The apartment building looked precisely the way Chad had described it. He pulled up in front of the building and stepped out of the car. Then he regarded the building for a few moments, unaware that the detective men were watching him closely and that just a few blocks away, Razor was also watching the building. He drew in a long, slow breath and moved towards the building.

As he walked into the building, a dog barked in one of the houses across the street, and in one of the apartments, a child yelled. He entered, saw long stairs, and mounts it. The stairs led in a half-circle to the next landing. He ran up the stairs till he got to the fourth landing. The well-lit hallway had doors on both sides. He walked through the passage, pausing at each entrance to look at the room number, then moving on. At the far end of the passage, the white mahogany door had the number “12 " written on it in gold paint. This must be it, he thought.

Kevin knocked on the door, tapping it lightly, but he heard no answer from the inside. He put his head against the door panel and listened. From the room came the sound of classical music. He rapped on the panel again, but there was no reply. Where could she be, he thought. He waited for few moments, and then on an impulse, he touched down the door handle. The door gave way. He slid into the apartment and closed the door behind him. The apartment was in darkness except for a faint light from under a closed door at the far end of the room. He looked around the living room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness around him. The only lights in the room were the neon blinking lights of the sound system, which floated out classical music.

He regarded the closed door. He was aware that he was breathing heavily, and his hand was clammy with sweat. He had an idea he wouldn't like what was behind that door. But his curiosity got the best of him, and he drew in a long, slow breath and moved towards it. When he reached the door, his nose was hit with a smell like that of burnt papers or cigarettes wafting out from under the door. That told him one thing: something was definitely going on inside the room. He knew she would hate him for intruding on her privacy, but he didn't give a damn. He needed to see her, and for that, he opened the door and stepped into the room.

The room was full of acrid human fluids and thick smoke spiralling from hookah. The curtains had been drawn, shutting out the waning evening light, and the only table lamp in the room was lit. But it was what he saw on the bed that brought him out in cold sweat and made him nearly grabbed his chest.

On the bed were two naked women kissing passionately, their legs wrapped together, and one of them was thrusting hard and fast into the other like a ferocious animal. They must have known they were not alone in the room because they disengaged almost immediately. The other woman on the bed screamed, covering her breasts, and cringing back. While the other women shot out of bed with the speed of a striking snake, moved towards a small table, and grabbed a switchblade. She touched a button, and a long, glittering blade sprang from the handle.

“What the hell are you doing here?” The one with the knife demanded hotly, brandishing the knife at Kevin, who stood at the doorway too stunned to speak.

In the hazy, heavy smoke of the room, Kevin recognized the face of Wynter. She stood there, animal naked, her body lean and glistening with sweat. Her nipples were hard, and a huge penis hung between her legs, and she held a knife in her hand. Sickening bile rose up in his belly, and he felt sick and weak.

“You are…you are," he stammered, pointing his finger to her genital areas. “What is that? "

Swiftly, Wynter closed the space between them. She pushed him to the wall and put the knife to his throat. The sharp edge of the blade pierced his soft flesh slightly, and he moaned out in pain. She was staring at him, her eyes empty like glass pebbles. For a woman, she was immensely strong.

“Say a word about this to anyone, and I'll slit your throat, you nosy bastard!” she seethed out, her breast rising and falling. “I’m very good with knives. You can ask Ruby over there on the bed. She's my bae. She'll tell you all about me."

“You’ve…you've got a dick! " Kevin stuttered, not even paying attention to what she had said. His senses were reeling from what he had seen. He had heard stories of women having penises before, but he had never believed the rumours were true. Then a sudden realization hit him, and at that moment, he finally understood why Wynter had been ignoring him all this while.

He dragged his eyes from Wynter's face to the woman on the bed. She was a girl in her early twenties, beautiful with big eyes, an ample bosom, and long white legs. She looked at Kevin like a rabbit that had seen a ferret in his burrow.

Kevin turned his eyes to Wynter. An angry glint jumped into his eyes.

“So, you love screwing girls?” he said, a bite in his voice. “So, you've got a dick like a man? Why didn't you just tell? I would have understood. I wouldn't have bothered you,” he seethed out.

His words made a vicious glint jump into in Wynter's eyes, and she shoved him away. She walked to a wardrobe, whipped a heavy silk robe around her slim, firm body, walked over to the door, and pulled it wide open. Then she turned to him.

“Get the hell out!” she snarled, staring at him with a menacing expression on her face. "Get out! Now!"

Kevin moved away from the wall and straightened his shirt. Then he pointed an accusing finger at Wynter.

“You should have told me you've got another thing under you," he said, looking at her angrily. “I swear, I wouldn't have bothered you.”

Wynter gave him a cold smile and pointed the knife at him.

“I’m sorry, fool! I don't dig men. I'm all man, myself,” she yelled, “Now get outta here, before I spill out your guts.” She spat the words at him and waved the knife in a way that showed she would really stab him.

Kevin moistened his lips with his tongue and nodded. As he turned to leave the stuffy room, he heard a loud crashing sound as if the ceiling had caved in, followed abruptly by Wynter's scream, and he swung around in astonishment.

Standing in the middle of the room was a tall and powerfully built masked man dressed in a black coverall.

***

Razor knew Kevin was in room number 12. He had seen Kevin rapped on the door from the dark corner where he had been hiding, and he knew the woman Kevin was meeting was living there. He left his hiding place and walked through the passage until he got to the apartment door, which had the number “12 ". He would have loved to go in. He would have loved to catch Kevin unaware. But Razor always loved a surprise attack. Inwardly, he knew Room number “11 " was connected directly to room number "12 ". Because of the dramatic effect he wanted to create, he moved to room number “11 " and brought out a skeleton key from his inner pocket and inserted it into the lock.

The door gave way without any trouble, and he entered the apartment. He moved through the living room quietly and silently like a ghost and headed for the room, which his uncanny mind told him to be the bedroom. He slipped into the bedroom and saw a man and a woman sleeping soundly on the bed, unaware of the intruder in their room. He ignored the couples on the bed, his eyes scanning the ceiling for something. His face lit up when he saw what he was looking for. It was a maintenance hole, covered shrewdly with a roofing sheet.

Quietly, he unslung his tool bag slung across his chest. His tool bag always comes in handy, and it contained all the necessary things he would ever need for any of his dirty, dangerous works. He opened the tool bag and brought out a medium-sized canister filled with BZ and Halothane Vapour, and then he brought a small roll of gas hose. He unscrewed the lever of the canister, uncoiled the hose, and connected the hose to the canister. The hose produced hissing sounds as the air from the canister began to flow from it. He walked to the couple on the bed, placed the canister on the dresser, which was beside the bed, and directed the gas hose to the couple. The gas inside the canister was powerful enough to knock out a person senseless for as long as possible.

Razor grinned wickedly. Even if an earthquake were to occur, the couple on the bed would not even be aware of it. Satisfied, he moved to the maintenance hole, gathered momentum, and jumped, raising a closed fist. The hand hit the maintenance hole, breaking the roofing sheets, which were shrewdly used to cover it. Next, he crossed the room to a small wooden stool, carried it to the maintenance hole, stood upon the stool, and through the maintenance hole, he was inside the ceiling. Swiftly, he crawled on his chest, ignoring the smell of rat’s faeces as it hit his nose. After crawling for a few moments, he stopped and brought out a tracing cutter from his tool bag. Using the cutter, he traced out some part of the ceiling, thereby creating a small hole and through that hole, he saw Kevin talking to a completely naked woman.

There was another woman on the bed too. Razor snarled viciously. I'm too good, he said to himself. Just by following his instinct, he had guessed Kevin was going to meet a woman. What even made it better was the fact that he had stumbled upon the woman's bedroom. Let's get cracking, he thought and gathering his enormous strength, his right leg swung up, and he kicked open the brittle ceiling. There was a loud crashing sound as he jumped inside the bedroom.

Wynter, who had seen the ceiling caved in, screamed despite herself. Ruby also screamed, and she clung to the pillow as if her life depended on it. Kevin regarded the tall, dark figure the way you will regard a snake on your bed. His forehead beaded with sweat, and he could feel the efforts rolling off him. He had an odd feeling the masked figure standing before him was the one who had been making the killings all along.

Razor did not speak. He did not move. He stood like an effigy watching their faces the way a lion will look at a rat that had entered its cage. Wynter was mentally resilient. She had quickly gotten over the shock of seeing the black figure, and she beckoned to Ruby, who was already whimpering and shaken violently on the bed. She scrambled off the bed hastily and came to Wynter. Both women clung to each other the way a sinking amateur swimmer will cling to a lifebuoy.

“What the hell do you want? " Kevin mumbled and swallowed hard.

Razor grinned wickedly.

“I’m not here for you yet," he growled.

Kevin felt his mouth turned dry, and there was a cold empty feeling in his stomach.

“Just tell me what you want? Is it money?” he said in a croaked voice. "I've got a lot of money. Just don't hurt anyone."

Razor did not even say anything. He was enjoying the conflicting emotions going on Kevin's and the women's faces.

Wynter dragged her eyes from the masked, frightening figure to Kevin.

“Kevin! You and your partner should just get the hell out!” She yelled with a wicked glint in her eyes. “If you wish to settle scores, go settle it outside, but leave Ruby and me here alone."

Kevin turned to her, his face a mask of fright and anger.

“Will you shut your mouth?" he said in a cold, shaky voice. Then he turned to Razor. “Let the women go! I believe this is between you and me."

Razor face hardened.

“No!” he said quietly, and he pointed a gnarled finger at Wynter. "I need you and the other girl."

Wynter stiffened.

“What do you mean the girl and me?”

“Both of you will have to die too,” Razor said with the air of a dentist who is about to extract a molar.

“You’ve got no beef with them,” Kevin pointed out. “It's me you want! Let them go. Kill me instead!"

“You’ll suffer, for now, “Razor replied casually.

“I don't understand, “Kevin said, his face wet with sweat.

“You cared about one of them. That's why you are here in the first instance, right? The one you don't care about is collateral damage. So, I'm gonna fix them both."

“I don't care about any one of them, alright!” Kevin returned. “I just found out tonight I don't really care."

Razor shrugged indifferently.

"It's too late for that. You brought me here; that means they both die. Just like the rest of the other women in your damned life."

“You nut case!” Kevin bawled. “You like killing women, right? You like knocking them off? You killed Jessica, Ella, and Debbie because it turns you on, you sick bastard, admits it!"

"It's always about what someone did to you, “Razor screamed down at him” What about what you took from me, you debaucher! You took Angelina from me. You made me kill her. "

Kevin stared at him, nonplussed.

“Angelina?” he stammered. “Who the hell is Angelina? I don't know any woman by that name,”

Razor snorted.

“You fucking piece of shit! You can still lie back at me, right? Are you so far gone with women you can't even remember their names? "

“I’m telling you this is a mistake.” Kevin said hoarsely. “I swear, I don't know any woman by the name Angelina. You've got to believe me," he pleaded, his voice trembling.

Razor sniggered.

“You chronic liar! If you can't remember her, then that's your misery; for me, I'm fixing these two chicks."

Razor turned to look at the two women. The voice of the masked man had told Wynter he wasn't bluffing. She closed her eyes, feeling the blood drain out of her face, her body turning cold.

“You can't kill us!” she said, her voice had risen to a shout. “You just can't!"

Razor smiled mirthlessly. Then he dipped his hand into his inner pocket and brought out a gun fitted with a silencer. He pointed it at Ruby, who still clung to Wynter's body.

“Get over here, bitch!” he snarled.

Ruby gave a wailing scream of terror. Her face was white and sallow with tears, and she held on to Wynter's' body tightly. Kevin stared at the gun, and he felt a cold shiver run up his spine. The weapon looked menacing and big in the masked man's hand.

“Be careful with that," he said huskily. “It might go off."

Razor ignored him. He moved purposely towards the two women. Kevin recognizing his intents, rushed at him, a murderous glint in his eyes. Razor was unperturbed. As Kevin reached him, he swung over his right hammer-like fist and caught Kevin on the side of his face with a paralysing and awful violent blow.

Kevin went down on both hands and knees. He thought the ceiling had fallen on him. He sprawled face down on the rug, completely stunned with blinding lights flashing before his eyes. Dazed, he watched as the masked figure shove Wynter away violently and pull Ruby by her long hair. She began to squeal loudly, but a vicious slap to her face shut her up.

Sill holding Ruby, Razor turned to look at Wynter, and he snarled when he saw her pointing a knife at him. The murderous look in her eyes warned him she would use the knife on him if giving a chance.

“Let go off Ruby, or I'll carve you up," she yelled, her eyes cold and ruthless, and she moved towards him, the knife rose in a death-like manner.

“You don't wanna use that, do you?” he said to her.

“I’ll kill you!” she snarled, and she took a step forward and threw the knife at him. Razor saw the murderous glint in her eyes. As the knife flashed towards him, he quickly jerked the struggling Ruby to his front. The knife took her right in the throat. She fell on hands and knees, gurgling.

For a brief moment, Razor stood transfixed, staring at the twitching body of Ruby. At that moment, he felt a cold pang of fear in his chest. If he had not used the girl's body to shield himself, he would have been a dead man by now. He dragged his eyes to Wynter. She stood there motionless; her face white and taut, her lips moving as she silently cursed him.

“Are you nuts?” he yelled. “You nearly nailed me!”

“You bastard," she whimpered, her eyes glittering with tears and regret. “Look what you've made me do to my poor baby now."

Kevin remained on the rug. The punch to his head had sapped all his strength. He could only stare and watch the scene that was unfolding right in his eyes.

Wynter did not even know when Razor came to her side. It was only when he began to push her out of the room that she came to her senses and the gravity of what she had done occurred to her. She gave a wailing scream of terror as if she had been poked with a hot iron and tried to run, but he grabbed her arm, jerking her against him. He had imagined she would be easy to handle. He had tremendous confidence in his immense strength, but he could scarcely control her.

Despite the terror, she kicked, clawed, and bit, trying to free her. Any kind of resistance sent Razor into a rage. As she struggled with him, he kept hitting her across her face and mouth. Her face now was a mask of blood. She was weakening. With one last feeble effort, she raised her hand, trying to rake his face with her nails, but he knocked her hands aside and hit her on the side of her jaw savagely. Her eyes rolled back, and she slumped into his arms. Kevin shook his head to clear away the dizziness. Then he tried to sit up, reaching out for Wynter, but Razor kicked his hands away.

“Stay down, bloody Casanova!” he hissed through clenched teeth. His breath was coming in laboured gasps, and he was beginning to feel hot and sweaty under the coveralls he had worn.

He dragged Wynter to the living room, threw her on a settee, crossed to the room switch, and snapped the light on. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and began to struggle violently when a callused hand pulled her up by the hair. But the blows to her face had weakened her.

And so, Razor managed to hold on to her tightly, and then he brought out a thick rope from his back pocket and used it to bind her hands. He hit her hard on the face again, and she fell to the ground, half sobbing, half pleading. Razor entered the bedroom and dragged Kevin out. He used another thick rope to bind Kevin's hand and legs and then held Kevin's chin up so that both were staring into each other's eyes.

“I want you to watch this,” he said, a cold expression on his face. “This is for Angelina, don't ever forget this!” He moved towards the living room fan switch and turned it on to the maximum level. The fan blades began to whirl vigorously. He then moved towards Wynter and raised her up. She began to shout now, and she struggled in his arms like a rat caught in a trap.

Razor, holding Wynter in his hand, moved towards the whirling fan blades and stood under them. The air from the fan was blowing vigorously on them now. By now, Kevin knew the masked figure's intentions and began to twitch and struggle on the ground, trying to see if he could untie the thick rope, but it was a futile effort.

Razor bared his teeth in a vicious snarl, bent down, folded his arms around Wynter's legs, braced himself, and jumped, lifting her body with him. The whirring blades of the fan caught her head, and it chopped off her neck. The decapitated head flung wildly to a corner of the room. He dropped the lifeless body. The walls and the floor were sprayed with the red crimson of blood. He looked at Kevin's face and grinned wickedly. He was not surprised to see that Kevin had passed out.

“Must be from the shock of seeing a rolling head," he said aloud, grinning wickedly. He looked around the room, checked his tool bag, which was still slung across his chest, and when he was satisfied that everything was in place, he moved towards the front door and stepped out of the apartment. The soft heelless boot he had worn deadened his footfalls as he walked through the passage. Suddenly he stiffened, his ears pricked. There! He could hear scuffling feet as if someone was running up the stairs.

That was when he remembered the two detectives who had been ordered to watch Kevin. They must have guessed Kevin was in trouble in one of the apartments, and they were coming to check it out. Quickly, Razor brought out his gun and fired at the electric light bulb. The passage plunged into darkness. There, in the pitch darkness, his heart hammering wildly, he waited for the two men. Few moments later, he heard their footfalls in the passage, and he snarled to himself.

“Goddammit!” one of the men cursed, “I can't see shit! I hate the dark, man. It gives me the creeps."

“Tommy, will you shut up?” The other one returned, “You’ll wake the whole neighbourhood if you were keeping talking that way."

“Where do you think Mr. Carter is holed up?” Tommy inquired. “Jess! Answer me”

“In one of these rooms, I guess. Who knows, that killer could be in any of these rooms too, maybe even in this blinding darkness.”

“I don't know, Jess,” Tommy replied in a shaky voice. “If you think that killer is here, shouldn't we call for backup?"

“Backup, my ass!” Jess snapped, “If that psycho is here, and then I'll nail the sonofabitch! Don't worry, and I have a torch right here."

Razor cursed under his breath and backed to the far wall on hearing the word torch as a powerful electric torch swept around the passage. As he did so, the torch beam fell on him, and he heard one of the men yelled.

“Who the hell are you?” Jess bawled. “Freeze fucker! If you move, I’ll blast some holes into you."

Razor could see the outline of a hand holding a torch. Without thinking, he raised his gun and fired. The torch clattered to the ground and went off, followed by a loud scream of pain.

“Christ! I've been shot,” Jess screamed in the darkness, “fix him, Tommy. Hit him dead!"

“I can't see Jess!” Tommy yammered back.

Razor grimaced and cursed under his breath. He was feeling pretty hot and sticky by now. The mask on his face was wet with sweat, and his massive back was drenched. These two men might seem like stupid bums, he thought, but if he got careless, they would nail him. Then an idea dropped into his mind. He dropped on his hands and knees, and he began to crawl forward.

From the way the way they had called each other's names, he knew the one he had shot was Jess, and the one still groping around the dark passage was Tommy. As he crawled on, he was thinking of his following escape route, and just that moment, his head touched something hard, and he froze, too shocked to move. His head had touched the calf of Tommy's leg.

“Hold it right there, killer!” Tommy shouted, alarm in his voice. “I can see your head! Throw your gun away and stand up slowly."

Razor felt the cold muzzle of a gun against his head and swore under his breath. He knew he was cornered, and for this reason, he threw his gun away and rose to his feet. But Tommy made a mistake. He had underestimated Razor. When cornered, Bill Razor will become vicious and dangerous more than even a hungry tiger. As he rose to his feet, he mentally calculated that the man holding the gun was standing right in front of him.

He straightened, braced himself, and drove his powerful shoulders into Tommy's body. Caught off guard, the gun jerked out of Tommy's hand, and he felt his back slammed hard against the wall. Razor heard the man's breath come out with a rush and grinned evilly. Then he raised a clenched fist and hit him hard on the face.

Tommy, in the dark passage, did not even see the punch coming. All he knew was that something exploded before his eyes, and he felt himself falling into a lonely vacuum of darkness.