The Good Listener by B. M. Hardin Read Free Book Online

name?”
    “Yes.”
    “How or why were you there?”
    “Doesn’t matter.”
    “Why didn’t you say anything other than calling my name and getting out of sight?”
    “It wasn’t the right time.”
    He had been watching me.
    “Let me ask you this. Did you come by here? Late one night and somewhat hide out behind the building?”
    “No.”
    I wasn’t sure that I believed him.
    “But that’s what you said right? You said that I have to trust you? I have to trust you with my thoughts. My feelings. And my secrets. I have to trust you in order for you to be able to help me. What better way to build trust than to ask questions?”
    “You’re right. Ten years of marriage. No kids.”
    “Why?”
    “Why what?”
    “Why don’t you have kids?”
    “We haven’t had the time.”
    “Do you want them?”
    “Yes.”
    “Does he want them?”
    “Sure.”
    “Aren’t you supposed to give your husband what he wants? I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone else to.”
    I ignored his comment.
    My uterus or marriage to Joel wasn’t what we needed to be discussing.
    “So tell me, how can I help you change your mind? How can I save your victim? How can I stop you from committing murder?”
    “That’s something that you have to figure out.”
    “Why do you want to kill her?” I questioned.
    “Because I have to.”
    “Why?”
    “Because.”
    “Are you really going to kill her?”
    “Would I be here if I wasn’t? Would I have come and confessed it to you if I didn’t have any real plans of doing it? I don’t think so.”
    “But what about your career?” I inquired.
    “Who said anything about getting caught?”
    “So you don’t think you would get caught?”
    “No.”
    “But what if you did? Are you willing to risk everything? Your career? Your life? Your freedom?
    “Yes. But I wouldn’t get caught.”
    “And you would commit the murder yourself?”
    “That’s the only way to do it. No one else can do it the way that I could.”
    My stomach turned.
    I dreaded to ask the next question, but I had too.
    “Have you ever killed before?”
    He stared at me.
    “Maybe.”
    “Maybe?”
    Blake stared at me long and hard, making me extremely uncomfortable.
    “Yes.”
    “Yes, what?”
    “Yes, I have killed before. And I liked it.”
    I wasn’t as surprised by his answer as I thought I would have been.
    He definitely gave me the vibe of a serial killer, according to all of the things that I’d researched and studied about them.
    But I was still frightened to a certain extent just to be sitting in the same room with him.
    “You liked it? You didn’t feel guilty at all?”
    “No. Not one ounce of guilt. That’s why I need help. Something is wrong with me. I don’t want to do it again.”
    “Then don’t.”
    “If it were that simple I wouldn’t be here Hannah. I live for those moments when blood splatters on my face or when someone takes their last breath, and I’m the last face that they see. It makes me feel alive.”
    I struggled to keep my face together, and my heart dropped to the pit of my belly.
     
    The look in his eyes told me that there was truth and a story behind every word that he had just said.
    I almost didn’t want to continue the conversation, but I knew that I had to keep going.
    I couldn’t show him fear. I couldn’t show him that I couldn’t handle his confession.
    “Who? Who did you kill Blake?”
    “Would you ever try to go to the police? I’ve already said more than enough, and I’m just getting started. I would hate for things to turn ugly.”
    Was that a threat?
    Sure sounded like one to me.
    “Why would I go to the police? You know that I can’t do that. What you say to me here stays in here.”
    He looked at me.
    I wasn’t sure if he was actually implying that he would harm me if I tried to tell authorities of his plans, but not only could I not by law, now I surely wouldn’t out of fear.
    Something told me that I had better not take his words lightly, and I didn’t