PROLOGUE
The Angry One sat quietly simmering. His rage burned a hole in the pit of his stomach. He’d been generous with her...and patient. Oh, the patience and restraint he had shown. He’d watched her flit around town, throwing herself at nameless men. She didn’t know he watched her, that’s what made it… interesting. If it would’ve been any other girl, he would have just taken what he wanted. Women were very gullible creatures. Usually you just showered them with a little attention, look deep into their sad, miserable eyes, listened to their pathetic little tales, and bam - you had them; but not her. What did she think was so interesting or unique about her that a man, a real man would want anyway? But deep inside he did want her; he craved her. She was like an infection in his blood which made him burn. She, with her sad eyes filled with longing…but for someone else, always someone else. She made him want to devour her. She consumed him. He wanted her like no other and she overlooked him like he was nothing. Nothing! He had tried to allow things to happen in a natural way, but continuously and recklessly she tossed his advances aside. Now was the time. Now was his time. Satisfaction made his lips curl into a twisted smile. Slowly, he reached forward and flipped the hourglass upside down and watched the sand begin to trickle down into its base. The Angry One grinned devilishly and thought of the words of William Shakespeare, “Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends.”
