|THE FACELESS KILLER| Hiatus

| S E V E N |

Giving him a final kiss on the cheek she sidestepped him as she picked her towel from the floor.

"Rox! C'mon, I'm sorry," trailing behind his girlfriend, he pleaded and begged for her attention. He knew he fucked up—big time.

"I'm leaving. Obviously you think I'm stupid," her voice shook with barely suppressed emotion. She was upset. She'd had the last straw, her normally honeyed orbs were a shade darker, wilder.

"Roxanne, I said I was sorry. I got held up at work," regret gnawed at his insides. He loathed lying to Roxanne and yet there he was, lying straight to her face the best he could.

An incensed laugh escaped her parted lips, "are you serious right now? So screwing Alex is part of your work description now?"

"How the—" getting slapped on the cheek he held the reddening spot. Stunned, his mouth wordlessly moved about as his brain replayed the action.

"Next time make sure you aren't answering your cell while you're working," slamming his bedroom door, she changed back into her black boyfriend jeans; black, tight-fitting polo neck, and her grey Nike—fear of God—Sneakers.

Getting her duffel bag from underneath the bed she exited the room. As she headed to the door Max cohered to her back, wrapping his arms around her front he whispered remorsefully.

"Enough, Max!" she yelled, placing some distance away from him she pushed herself away from his warm embrace. Turning to face him, she mustered her best foreboding glare, "I don't give a damn 'bout your apologies, okay? I'm done. Here are your keys, enjoy fucking her."

Throwing the keys at his face she made a peace sign as she exited his apartment. All the anger, and betrayal she felt had to be channeled elsewhere before she exploded, and she knew the exact place to release all the pent up frustrations.

Carefully wearing her black skull helmet, she mounted her red motorbike. Holding her last lingering look towards his home, she wondered where she went wrong in their two-year relationship. She saw the signs, all the red flags and yet she turned a blind eye to his escapades.

Anger simmered in the pit of her stomach, she wasn't the problem—not in a long shot. New beginnings were around the corner for her and for that to happen she needed to let go of the baggage.

—xx—xx—

Gleam-Wood Canyon

2 hours later

Christopher Pincotti: Last seen 3 hours ago and counting...

"Do you think he could still be out there?" Bethany whispered to everyone. She wanted to remain optimistic about the situation, but with each ticking minute, her hopes kept dwindling.

"He's unquestionably out there," Emily warily said.

Everyone in the room turned their attention to her—he was her best friend after all, and he was out there all alone. No one had the heart to express what they thought; what if wild beasts out there had already had their way with him? Maybe, he was already dead, lying in some ditch out there.

Hours had ticked by and gone, Christopher's whereabouts were still unknown. Getting suffocated by the deafening silence enveloping the room Emily swiftly headed for the door.

Cool winter air blew through her tangled hair sending chills all over her body, wrapping her body warmer tighter against her body she sat on one of the rocking chairs on the porch.