Page 171 of Sincerely, Butterfly

But some of the girls they were with before are still there, sitting at the same table the guys once were with their friends.

I better get there now before I lose them in the crowd. I’d hate to miss anyone if it can be helped.

The guys have no one to blame but themselves.

They lied to me, and now they’re going to pay the price. They are the reason those girls are losing their lives tonight, not me. I didn’t make them deceive me, they did that all on their own.

And if we’re going to make this work between the four of us, I will not tolerate lying.

Okay, so yes, they don’t know I’m the one running around New Orleans killing people, but it’s not like they asked me and I lied. It’s not the same.

I check Skittles' location so I can find out where this restaurant is. Once I know where I’m going, I make my way back out into the crowd of people and get lost, blending in just like I was hoping to.

I have to dodge a few rowdy, drunk men as I go, but I manage to make it to the restaurant just in time.

I look up to Skittles, who's still sitting on a lamppost, looking down at me while cocking his head to the side as if to say ‘you know which ones, right?’

I smile up at him and nod my head, letting him know it’s okay to leave. I want him to follow the guys. I need to know what they’re up to and who they’re with.

He lets out a caw before flapping his wings and taking off.

My attention shifts back to the group of girls, eyes zeroing in on my first three targets of the night.

I need to get this done fast if I plan on keeping up with the guys tonight. Because something tells me, they’re just getting started.

Good, because so am I.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-NINE

NOLA

After watchingthe girls for around five minutes, I debate on staying here or giving up on these three. I’m worrying about who the guys are with right now when they finally get up from the table.

They say goodbye to some of the girls they’re with, and the three of them start walking down the street.

“Show time,” I murmur to myself, a sick excitement strumming through my veins.

It’s been far too long since I’ve been able to kill someone the guys touched.

As much as I loved that they’ve been keeping their hands to themselves, for the most part, the others I’ve killed just haven't been as satisfying.

Sure, it’s been nice to see the people who got enjoyment out of tormenting me get their comeuppance, but I’ve honestly never cared about the things they said to me.

It didn’t bother me.

So it’s far more thrilling to take the life of the girls who dare to touch what doesn’t belong to them.

I follow behind, making sure to stay close to them. They’re drunk, tripping over their feet, and laughing obnoxiously loud.

They seem like they’re having the time of their lives. I almost feel bad for being the one to bring that to an end.

Key word: almost.

I’m not sure why I’m so at peace with taking lives so easily. I don’t lose sleep, I don’t second-guess my actions, nor am I plagued by guilt.

Maybe that makes me a monster, but at the same time, isn’t that the point?