Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight. Easy belongs to me. Catwoman? Also me, but originally... Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Hope they don't mind. I can think of worse versions. MUCH WORSE...

A/N: First of all, I hope everyone had a lovely holiday. As for me... I'M GLAD IT'S OVER. If you knew my family, you'd understand. I'd like to turn Bella loose on a few of them... but I'll just give you this instead. See you at the bottom.

...

Chapter Seven: Easy

Easy.

The way he walked away from her.

Kept walking as she cried.

Begged him to come back.

Chased him down the street.

She chased him.

She fought.

The fight was easy...

For her.

Automatic.

She didn't think.

Her heart thought for her.

Told her legs to move.

Easy.

She thought he was worth it.

It was easy for him, too.

To keep walking.

Away from her.

Because she wasn't worth it to him.

I saw it in his eyes.

As he walked past me.

I saw it on his cruel mouth.

As he laughed at her.

His hateful hands.

As she tried to pull him back and he shoved her away from him.

That's all he gave her.

Cruelty.

Because it was easy.

Like when a mother leaves her sleeping child so she won't have to see her tears when she goes.

Easy for her, the heartless bitch.

Easy...

Like when an equally heartless man leaves the woman he says he loves as she, too, sleeps.

Easy for him.

Not for her.

The woman, who he knew as a child was left just that way, asleep in her bed.

But it was still easy.

He repeated the cruelty.

She wasn't worth it.

The child.

To her.

The woman.

To him.

Them.

Easy.

Leaving is easy for them.

The heartless.

Turning their backs.

Hurting those they leave behind.

They don't say they're sorry.

They don't say goodbye.

It's too easy not to.

Easy...

The way they forget.

He'd already forgotten.

It was easy.

The way he smiled at me moments after he left her.

She wasn't smiling as she watched him.

Wasn't smiling as she turned and walked away.

Because she gave up her fight.

Because she knew she wasn't worth it to him anymore.

She saw it in his eyes.

She heard it in his laughter.

She felt it in his hands.

She wasn't smiling.

Like I am now.

At him.

At opportunity.

The knife in his hand, slicing through the lime and then laid on the counter.

So easy...

"You sure you're not thirsty?" He holds the bottle of Corona out to me.

My mouth is watering, but not for that.

I shake my head.

"You're kind of quiet. I like that. The last woman I was with never shut up."

You mean the one you were with an hour ago? Asshole.

He sits his beer down on the counter and reaches for me.

I step back.

"Why so shy all of a sudden?"

I smile and shrug.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours? Hmm?"

"Things."

"What kind of things?"

You don't want to know.

I smile again and grab his shirt, pulling it wordlessly from his jeans.

He raises his brows.

I pop the button on the denim and slide down the zipper.

He smiles, but looks down at my hands before back up at me. "Don't you want to take off your gloves?"

I free him from his jeans and boxer briefs, with no resistance at all, and push them down with a shake of my head.

His confused expression disappears the second I take him in my gloved hand.

It's replaced with a stupid, greedy grin.

Easy.

He thinks it's his lucky night.

He's wrong.

I remove my hand and speak two simple words. "Turn around."

He sees it in my eyes.

The want.

The need.

He thinks it's for him.

It is, but definitely not the way he thinks.

And I'm anxious to show him just how much.

Want.

Need.

It.

Me.

Us?

Are we separate?

Me and the clawing?

No...

I'm not alone anymore.

It's inside.

Real.

Alive.

Part of me.

It...

Is.

One.

Us.

Definitely us.

And we're getting impatient.

The need.

That he sees, but doesn't quite understand.

I gesture with my finger for him to turn.

He cocks his head to the side curiously but finally does as he's told.

And I don't waste time.

I reach around him and take his cock in my left hand.

He grabs the counter with both of his.

I shift slightly to the right so I can see the side of his face.

His mouth is open, his eyes downward.

Watching.

Feeling.

More than he deserves.

A few strokes, leather to skin, and his eyes fall closed.

I grab the knife from the counter with my right hand, squeeze him with my left.

He moans.

Too easy...

Like the slice of the knife through his unsuspecting throat.

The surge of bliss that courses through me as the flesh splits.

The clawing that brought me here stilled.

Calmed.

Quieted.

Satisfied.

Almost.

I ram the knife into his back and shove him away from me.

Just like he did to her.

I smile as he hits the floor with a thud.

And turn and walk away...

Without a glance back.

And without saying goodbye.

Now I'm satisfied.

I leave the apartment and start the walk back to my car.

I left it a few blocks away.

The limited parking on his street an easy excuse.

He didn't question it.

He didn't care.

Now he'll never care about anything ever again.

If he ever did.

I remove the gloves from my hands, pulling them inside out, and shoving them into the pockets of my jacket.

Open the door of my car and get in.

The ice cream I left the house for sits melting on the front seat.

Or maybe it isn't...

It's cold tonight.

Like my heart in my chest.

Or maybe it isn't...

There's a warmth inside of me.

Soothing.

Easy.

I like it.

...

...

"Why do you need new gloves?"

"I lost mine."

"How do you lose a pair of gloves?"

"I don't know, Alice, I just did."

"Where did you lose them?"

"No idea."

"When did you lose them?"

"What's with the questions, detective? They're just gloves, and now I have a new pair, so let's go. I'm starving."

"I just think it's strange. It's not like you to lose anything."

You're right, it's not. I know where they are. I know where they all are...

"I was running a bunch of errands the other day. I took them on and off a dozen times. I probably just left them on a counter somewhere or something." I light a cigarette and crack the window, wanting a fix before we get to the smoke-free restaurant.

Alice wrinkles her nose, but doesn't say anything. About that. "Did you lose them both or just the right one?"

"Both, why?"

"Because you always take the right one off to smoke. I thought maybe you'd only lost that one."

"Can we mark 'The Case of the Missing Gloves' as unsolved and move on, Alice?"

"Fine. But speaking of unsolved cases, did you see in the paper that now they're saying there's some kind of serial killer on the loose? They found a third body two days ago. Throat slit, knife left in the back, just like the other two."

That one was much too easy. He asked for it. Practically gave me an engraved invitation...

The son of a bitch left his girlfriend stranded on the side of the road with a flat tire.

They were fighting about something as I drove by. The car was jacked up, but they must have started arguing before he got any further. I hadn't paid much attention, and continued on my way, but fifteen minutes later as I was heading home after my last stop, I saw him walking. Alone. I pulled over and asked him if he needed help, thinking about the girl I knew had been with him, the girl who I knew was now alone as well. My intentions were honorable, until he spoke.

"Well, that's very sweet of you. My bitch, and now EX girlfriend just left me stranded at the bar where I came out of the bathroom to find her hot and heavy with my also now EX best friend."

He'd continued with his poor me story, which I knew was a lie, as I drove to his house. The keys he pulled from his pocket did have a car key on them, a Honda key, to be exact, which is what I'd seen jacked up. I only noticed it because the car was the exact color and model that the abandoner had driven.

My blood boiled as I thought about the pretty girl he'd left to fend for herself on the side of the dark road. I didn't know why he'd left his car behind and I didn't care. He'd left her. That was all that mattered. That girl deserved better than to be treated that way. And I made sure she wouldn't waste too much time waiting for him to grow a heart and a set of balls and come back.

Like I said... an engraved invitation.

To: Bella Swan

From: Lying son of a bitch

You are cordially invited to kill me.

Date: Today

Time: Now

Place: Your choosing

RSVP in person

So I did.

"Hello? Bella?"

"Huh?"

"Did you hear me?"

"What?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Sorry. Yeah, serial killer. Wicked shit."

"Where were you just now?"

"Here."

"Well, you were, but your head wasn't. Are you okay?"

"Of course. Just hungry." I stub out my cigarette in the ashtray just as Alice pulls into the restaurant parking lot. "I'll be back to normal once I have food. Promise."

"Did you hear about the name they have for her?"

"Name who has for who?"

"The press... whoever. The serial killer."

Is that what I am? We are? That seems a bit harsh...

"No, what's the name they have for her? If it's a her, whoever it is."

She rolls her eyes as we take our seats. "Of course it's a her, Bella."

"It might not be. What makes you so sure?"

"I just know."

"Did Jasper tell you it was a her?"

She answers my question by not answering it.

I hear you loud and clear, Alice... thanks for the heads up.

The waiter comes to take our drink orders, and says he'll be back after we've had the chance to look at the menu, but we eat lunch here every week and know the menu by heart. I give him my order immediately, without looking, and so does Alice, after changing her mind three times like she always does before predictably ordering her usual.

And now that she has, she looks like she's going to burst. "So, did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Would you focus, please? Hear the serial killer chick's nickname?"

"No, but you're clearly dying to tell me. What do they call 'her'?"

"Catwoman!"

What? How the...?

My throat is suddenly so dry I can barely get the words out. "Why do they call her Catwoman?"

"Well, I don't know exactly, but all of the victims were young, good looking guys with girlfriends, who also all happened to be naked when they were killed ... The assumption is that she's this stunningly beautiful, scorned woman seeking revenge on mankind. She purrs sweetly and lures them in... and then pounces. Straight at the throat, apparently. And does it without being seen, or heard... like a cat. You know how they can sneak up on you. And how they're sweet one minute, and biting you the next... "

"I get it. Catwoman. How clever. Where's the damn waiter?"

He better get here with my drink, and do it quick, or Catwoman's claws are going to come out. I don't think he'd like that very much...

But it would be so easy...

...

Leave 'em if you have 'em.

And a heads up for anyone who doesn't have me on author alert... if you're here, maybe sweet isn't your thing, but if you're like me, and like sugar AND spice, I wrote a cavity-inducing little story called Cups Full of Wishes. I think it's pretty special, and I'd love for you to check it out. It's on my profile, of course, along with Come Closer. And don't send me your dentist bills, but reviews are loved.

Until next time, I say good bye. And hope you all have a wonderful New Year!

CM