Anyone But You by Brien Michaels

Author:Brien Michaels [Michaels, Brien]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2019-12-08T16:00:00+00:00

I walked into the club, taking a quick moment to scan the room and make sure I’d stay inconspicuous. Hundreds of people and I didn’t recognize a single one of them. Perfect.

I sized up the crowd as I passed them. I wouldn’t be able to take down most of these guys, even on their worst days. Some of them I could probably overpower without too much trouble, but they weren’t why I was here. The main attraction would show themselves before long. In the meantime, I slid up to the bar and ordered a whiskey. None of those namby-pamby drinks for me. I’m a man, and I drink like one.

Being around all the shirtless, dancing men didn’t repulse me as much as it had the first time I’d visited a place like this. I might even be getting used to it. I downed my liquor and ordered another before moving closer to the stage. Tonight’s performer was still a mystery to me, but tonight was the last night they’d be alive. I promised myself that.

I reached into my pocket and fingered the handle of my knife, just to be certain one more time that I hadn’t forgotten it, because then the whole trip would have been for nothing. I smiled to myself and swayed to the music until the show started.

As soon as the voice came over the speaker and announced that tonight’s victim would be some bitch called Sheila, I let myself be swallowed by the crowd. The key to being a good serial killer was to never look too suspicious, and a man by himself in a club like this, hovering around the stage was definitely suspect.

When Sheila (or whatever his real name was) stepped out, the crowd erupted. Clearly, the man had fans. People who would be devastated when the body was found, and that made what I was planning that much sweeter. They’d never know I’d been among them. Watching. Waiting. Using them as my shadow and wall.

The man on stage wore a sparkling silver gown with one sleeve and a brunette wig pulled back into a tight bun. The blood-red lipstick was a stark contrast to the rest of the look and was even more pronounced when the lights went down and a single spotlight shone onto him.

All in all, it would have been beautiful on a real woman.

A somber expression graced Sheila’s face as he surveyed the audience. A piano started in low over the speaker, framing an obvious ballad and, a moment later, the man on stage started to fake it.

“What you gave me, I know you gave me . . . You remind me all the time.”

I knew that voice. Christina something. Addison? Austin? Aguilar? I remembered that one song about the genie, but forced the thought away. It didn’t matter who the singer was. Nothing mattered except my plan.

But I wondered what had inspired the queen to perform this of all songs. The lyrics were a dark, heartbreaking story of love gone wrong.

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