
When I bake, I’m meticulous and creative. Passionate. Same goes for when I murder people…
I wasn’t born a serial killer. The horror of my past made me what I am today.
But I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. Because only one thing gives me respite from my panic attacks.
Murder.
I used to have a broody protector that kept my demons at bay. His darkness rivaled my own, and he was my everything.
Tragedy tore us apart when we were eighteen. And since then, he’s stayed away.
Not too far, though.
Even though he thinks the universe is conspiring against us, even though he...
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