Vengeance: Played, #3

By Candace Dowds

I'm a man who has two sides. The first side is sarcastic, devious, and self assured. That side can't be rattled. But then there's my dark side, the side that kills.

The police are desperate to find 'The Silent Butcher' who's killing people across Hollywood. The Silent Butcher is the name they've given my dark side, the side that kills for comfort.

Yet, here I am, playing myself on a stage for the world to see. They'll never suspect that the man playing the killer is actually the killer they're hunting.

Irony at its very best - Desmond.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Candace Dowds
• Release date: Jul 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393615620

Candace Dowds

Candace began writing after the passing of her son in 2009. It has been an emotional release for her. She is supported by her family and friends. Other than the time she is writing, she sits back for hours reading books by her favorite authors, Tijan Meyer, Rachel Vincent, Richelle Mead, Colleen Hoover, Claudia Gray, Jay McLean and so many more. That or she will go for a calming drive while listening to Eminem, Slim Shady, Marshall Mathers or The Rap God, whichever you would like to call him. Her kids are just like her, sarcastic, but fun loving. The rules she lives by 1 Don't take life too seriously 2 Don't live up to others ridiculous expectations 3 Surround yourself with people who love you for you 4 If life becomes too much, have a stiff drink and start again tomorrow.

Book preview

To my kids, you are the reason I am doing this. I want nothing but the best for you. I will always love you.

To my dear, Rhonan, my angel baby. Not one day passes and I don’t think about you. We are approaching the tenth anniversary and it still hurts just as much today as it did the night I held your lifeless, perfect little body against me. I know you are watching over your brothers and sisters, and they know it too. I love you.

Copyright © 2019

Candace Dowds

All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction that shall not be shared or sold without the authors permission.

I’m living out my worst nightmare. Why, why on God’s green earth did I ever offer to have the sarcastic and smug Desmond Kurtshaw stay in my home while he recovered from a gunshot wound to the stomach? Granted, his home was now a crime scene since he’d been shot by my superior and captain, Tessa Masters, who was stalking him at the time, but why?

Tessa had broken into his mansion and shot him point blank in the stomach. Desmond had taken Tessa out for a drink a couple weeks prior to the incident, but she’d had no idea whatsoever about the purpose behind him taking her out that evening.

You see, Desmond was determined to unearth the captain's true reasons as to why she detested me as much as she had from the very second we’d met. When the night was over, we’d met for coffee and he’d opened up to me, telling me Tessa hated all women, especially those who file sexual harassment suits against their superiors. But Tessa was nothing but a whore, a whore who thrived on any male attention given to her. Hell, she dressed like a two-dollar hooker at work, it was something I didn’t respect her for. She couldn't differentiate between club and appropriate work attire.

As we’d sipped on our coffees, Desmond admitted to me that he recognized Tessa from somewhere, but couldn't pinpoint where. Soon enough, it hit him, he knew where he’d seen her before and had come to me with the details. The instant I had the information he’d conned out of Tessa, I decided to save it for when she tried to make me look like a fool in front of my work colleagues.

It wasn’t long before the chance to out her presented itself, a few days at the most. She’d gone out of her way to make me not only feel like a fool, but look like one too, and I simply couldn’t take her verbal beatings for a moment longer. All I’d ever wanted was to do my job and do it well, without interference from others, and I knew that getting rid of Tessa was the key to achieving that.

That day, I was seated at my desk going over the evidence I had before me from the last Butcher killing and that was when Tessa came out of her office and demanded I put my work aside so I could go and fetch her a latte from the Starbucks that is located close to the precinct. It was in that very moment, I decided I would confront her and use the information Desmond had given me to bring the bitch down a notch or two.

You see, Captain Tessa Masters had been a stripper at Desmond’s favorite strip club called The Slippery Nipple. Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, ‘How the hell did a stripper manage to climb her way up to be a captain in the LAPD, let alone heading up the Silent Butcher taskforce?’

Answer? I have no fucking idea. Desmond and myself have both pondered over that question, and the only reasonable explanation we could come up with is that she must have slept her way to the top. She must have, because the woman is utterly useless at her job as captain.

Her first few days in the role consisted of her chasing down Desmond after their ‘date.’ Desmond had not only blocked her number from his phone, he’d also blocked her on all forms of social media too, but doing so only made matters worse. He ended up getting shot in the stomach and his life almost taken from him as he’d undergone the necessary surgeries. It was very much touch and go that night, but fortunately he’d survived.

It has now been two weeks since Desmond and his myriad of connections had moved into my home. Correction, it's been two weeks since they came in and completely took over my entire home.

Amanda, Desmond’s personal assistant, had vowed she would not leave his side until he received the all clear from the surgeon who’d performed the surgery on him. I must admit, if Amanda hadn’t come to stay in my home with Desmond I would have already moved out of my own house because that would be easier than trying to get him to leave.

Amanda has been so kind as to run interference between us when my tension over Desmond's cocky, smart ass attitude was close to erupting. However, I no longer let his narcissistic and sexist attitude get under my skin as it once did, because I know he only does it to get a rise out of me. Even though I decided to ignore it, he is still continuing to call me Sammy, and that’s the one thing he does that I cannot ignore no matter how hard I try. That’s when Amanda jumps in and wedges herself between us in a bid to keep me from killing her boss.

After leaving my bedroom, dressed and ready for work, I make my way down the hallway towards the kitchen so I can fill my travel mug with freshly ground and brewed coffee. But as I make my way through the living room, I spot Desmond laying out on my brand-new L-shaped, chocolate brown sofa, with his feet up on the chaise, watching something on the television.

What are you doing up at this time of the morning? It’s six AM, I question. For the past two weeks, Desmond has been drugged up in the mornings and I don’t usually see him until I’ve finished work.

Looking up at me, he smiles. Good morning, Sammy.

My anger bubbles up within me, but I refuse to let him see my anger because it will only encourage him to keep doing it. I will not give him the satisfaction. Why are you up? I ask again.

Ah, you see, I’ve asked that the dosage of pain killers be lessened because I need to get back to work. Especially since the wound is healing nicely. The Silent Butcher must go on. I shall spend my day reading through manuscripts so I can be back to work next week.

Holy hell, does that mean he and his lackeys will be leaving my home, soon? Please, if there is a god, let that be the case. Before I have a chance to open my mouth to react, he says, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking we will be leaving soon. However, I also know it will be so very hard on you when I do, in fact, leave your tiny home. You have grown so very much attached to me in the time we’ve spent together, that I know it will devastate you when I do leave. Rest assured, I will always be here for you. So, how about you call in sick for work so we can get naked and dirty one another up in that bed of yours? he suggests, one eyebrow cocked up, waiting for my response.

Sorry, Desmond. I would much rather go into work and chase down serial killers than stay here and do the nasty with you. If I did stay and do as you propose, I would feel nasty. Actually, disgusting is the word that comes to the forefront of my mind when I think about having sex with you. Who knows how many barely legal sluts he’s screwed. I will not be another notch on his belt.

I don’t know why you insist on living in such a state of denial, Sammy. You want me and you damn well know it. I so want to punch the smug look he’s wearing right off his face.

Rolling my eyes in exasperation, I tell him, I’m going to work. I’ll see you later, Desmond. I can’t deal with him this morning. I decide to grab some coffee on my way into work.

Oh, isn’t the new captain starting today? Do you know who’s taking over from good old slut bag? Slut bag and Captain Big Tit’s are the names we had so kindly given to Tessa when she was my Captain for a brief amount of time.

Yes, there’s another Captain starting today, but I haven’t been briefed as to who it is. I swear, I’ll throw a fucking fit if the new one is anything like Captain Douchebag. All I want is a normal, non-threatening work environment. I need to bring in the copycat killer as soon as humanly possible. Far too many innocent people are being killed, out there. And then there’s the bullshit with the last case.

The one that was similar to the Nathaniel Wallace case?

Nodding, I tell him, The very one. The copycat killed Nathaniel’s brother Wesley. Wesley was as clean as they come. He’d never been arrested for anything and was studying to become a pediatric surgeon. I’d wanted to catch the