I suck...

When Mara woke up on Monday morning, she half expected to find J standing beside her bed, watching her. But she was alone, or at least it seemed like it at first glance.

She sat up and pulled her dark hair into a ponytail. Tossing her duvet off her legs, she stood and headed for the bathroom, but she stopped in her tracks. Looking back at her nightstand, she noticed a folded piece of paper that hadn't been there the night before. Almost hesitantly, she walked toward the table and picked up the paper. She unfolded it, her heartrate picking up each time she got closer to seeing the contents.

In neat curling handwriting, it said,

Darling Jaffray,

Don't miss me too much.

Your Murderer, J

Mara stared at the note in shock for a moment and then scoffed, rolling it into a ball, dropping it in the waste basket as she passed it.

When Friday came around and J still hadn't shown up, Mara told herself that she wasn't in any way disappointed. She was simply missing out on more pieces to the puzzle she wanted to solve so she could write this story.

She sat at her desk in her office, tapping her fingers on the wood, unable to focus on the article she was assigned to write.

"Still working on that dognapping article?" Fabian asked with a small smile, walking into the room, a folder tucked safely under his arm.

Mara breathed out a laugh. "It's honestly very frustrating."

"What, the dognapping, or writing the article?"

"The article. The dognapping is obviously someone getting money out of the owners, all because of the dog show this weekend." She said with a wave of her hand, sitting back in her chair. "How's Nina."

Fabian shrugged, directing his blue eyed gaze out the window to the building across the street. "Fine, I suppose."

"You don't know?" Mara inquired, cocking her head in confusion.

"Well…she's been acting a bit odd the last few days." He told her.

"Odd how?"

"All she wants to do is watch these lengthy TV shows, and then every time I walk into the room, she bursts into tears. If I ask her what's wrong, or if she's okay, she avoids answering me."

"Maybe it's just the pregnancy." Mara offered.

"I don't know. I'm probably just being paranoid."

"All the hours you've been putting in." Mara considered, reaching across her desk for a folder.

"What?"

"All the extra work you're doing must be putting you on edge. You're pushing yourself too hard."

Fabian chuckled awkwardly, looking at his shoes. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'll see you later."

Mara waved silently and reluctantly returned her attention to the article she could barely focus on.

Jerome smoothly pulled the bloodstained dagger from the woman's side and retracted his fingers from her long strawberry-blonde hair.

He couldn't remember her name. Jessamine? Jezebel? She looked like a Jocelyn. He could've sworn it was Holly, though.

With drooping eyes, she looked up at him, her breathing quickening. One of her arms fell from his shoulders while the other touched her side as it bled onto her clean white duvet.

Jerome lifted her blouse from the floor and used it to clean his weapon. When the dagger was spotless again, glimmering in the moonlight that shone through the windows of the apartment, he slid it into his sleeve and folded the blouse, setting it neatly on the corner of the bed.

He tilted his head to the woman as a silent farewell and walked to the front door. He closed it gently behind him and headed to the elevator calmly.

When he was standing outside of the apartment building, he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, and strolling down the sidewalk.

"Paris makes one feel lonely, does it not?"

Jerome didn't look up, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eddie fall into step with him. "What are you doing here?"

Eddie rolled his light green eyes. "Business. Like you."

"Did you see her?"

"I'd give her an eight-point-five." He shrugged.

"Yeah, she was alright."

"What'd she do?"

"Cheated on her husband." Jerome replied, swiping a hand through his blond hair as a light breeze rustled it. "He's some big-shot club owner or something. He was obsessed with her."

"Ah," Eddie realized, "if he can't have her—"

"No one can." Jerome finished.

"Have you killed that journalist yet?"

"Not yet."

"You better watch yourself. Don't get attached." Eddie warned.

His friend scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "She's just really entertaining, that's all. You'd want to keep her around as well."

"If you don't do it, I will."

"I will."

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"I'm a loaded gun, an only son, but I'm nobody's hero. I've come undone, I'm on the run, but I'm nobody's hero, nobody's hero. To heal your scars, I will give you everything I can. This war of hearts, we will rise again and take a stand. I can't lead you to salvation, yeah, I am just a man." -Nobody's Hero, Black Veil Brides

-Rachel