I'm sorry

Grimacing, Trevor tossed the controller in his hands across the room after switching off the large TV on the wall.

He rose from where he sat and stepped to the middle of the room.

Tilting his head, he thought back to what was said by the reporter. Several more bodies had been found dead at the elite clubhouse and Trevor knew who they were even before the names were revealed.

He wondered how long it had taken for them to get to see the now decomposing bodies of Tricia and Lauren.

Recalling the pleas from both ladies, he shook his head frantically and glared.

He didn't want to kill them. In fact, he had no intentions to do such, but sometimes, he couldn't control himself.

It was as if he was a different person entirely and self-control was always far from him whenever it happens.

Since he came to terms with what he was, he had never gone to sleep without his hand being soiled with blood.

And he had never hunted the innocent until now. He believed he was driven by lust and hunger since it had been a while since he last had decent blood to drink and he couldn't deny Tricia and Lauren tasted so good.

In the event of last night, only one person wasn't affected by him.

Kira.

She had single-handedly beaten him and saved him. The woman whom he felt for. more than he should and the person he desired to snap her neck for knowing too much!

Too many conflicting emotions about the woman had been in his head ever since their last encounter and he couldn't wrap his head around it.

He had thought over again about who she was and where she had come from, yet he hadn't found any useful information. He even went to the extent of paying a private investigator, everything was yet the same.

It was as if she had disappeared from the surface of the earth.

That damned woman!

Trevor grunted and tugged his hair in frustration. She added to his miseries and he wondered when it would stop.

Glaring at the large mural which was supposed to calm him - as the artist who painted it had said- whenever he was bloodthirsty, it did little to no good.

Rather, it seemed blander as he stared at it and felt no strange warmth that was supposed to come out of it after staring intently.

Trevor clenched his hands into fists and they collided with the wall before he could stop himself.

Wincing he gritted his teeth and punched again, not minding the pain and cracks he heard from each assault.

He growled and booted the door.

A knock sounded and he glared as he opened it to see his maid of two months in front of him.

"What do you want?!" He snapped, staring at the blonde.

"I heard you scream. I thought something happened to..."

"Whatever happened is none of your business!" Trevor cut her off, taking her aback.

The blonde, Cara, flinched whilst staring up at her boss.

He didn't seem like his usual self, still, he had never been a happy man. Ever since he had employed her, he was rather more hostile each passing day to her and she didn't mind.

Paying attention to her wasn't what she wanted, she enjoyed her personal space.

Again, his appearance frightens her. There was something strange about him she couldn't put her hands on and she didn't intend to ask him as well.

"I'm sorry, I just..."

"Keep the apologies to yourself. How about you leave? I am not ready to feel sorry for yet another soul." Trevor said, coldly.

Then he watched the horror that crossed her face almost immediately before she scurried off.

Sighing, he shut the door and stared at the damage he had done to the wall.

He narrowed his eyes as he noticed something sticking out and pulling out the bricks that were about to fall off, he plucked out a paper and flapped it to remove the dust.

His brows creased as he gazed at the paper in his hand for a long while before opening it.

His eyes skimmed what seemed to be a letter, it was addressed to him by his mom. She must have written it before she died, he mused.

Trevor groaned as the paragraph started with how he was found. It was the same thing she had told him and he didn't think reading it again was what he needed to do.

Folding off the paper neatly, he grasped the envelope and noticed it wasn't only the papers that were there.

He tossed out the contents of the envelope on the couch and his eyes widened as h

some photos fell out of it.

Each photo was dated right from when he was younger, one caught his attention in particular and his eyes lingered on it.

It was the raft his mom had told him about and he saw his name carved on it as it was stated in the letter.

He had seen the raft a lot of times in the basement with some other things he used during childhood, but he had never for once thought it was connected to him until his mom said so.

The worst was that he had never gotten any news about his biological parents. He had tried to find them to seek answers as to why he was tossed away into the sea, he never got what he wanted.

Each day he went to the sea he was carried out from, it was the same as always. No result and no one asking about a child who was now an adult.

Trevor scrunched up the paper with him and tossed it in the bin as well as the pictures.

He growled and kicked the trash can, pouring the content in it on the once neat floor.

He guessed he was a piece of trash. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have been an orphan. A freaking blood-sucking orphan who didn't even know how he got the ability in the first place!

"I think I need a drink." Trevor grimaced after a while of berating himself.

He grasped the discarded suit that was lying on the bed, slipped it on and stepped out of the room.

**********

Coming to the pub was what he enjoyed the most. Aside from the cool music that always poured out of the loud boombox, he liked searching for someone that'd satisfy his need for the night. And his clubhouse was the best for it.

He had never been short of women and meals.

Whenever he became too hungry and needed someone to compel and snap their neck, it was easy as the women couldn't resist him.

He often heard them say it and he was glad he could hear thoughts, it made it easier for him to know who to approach and not to.

"Hey, handsome."

Trevor smiled as a blonde sauntered toward him.

Her rosebud lips curved up in a coy smile and her baby blue eyes sparkled interestingly as she gazed up at him. She was leggy and had a mouth-watering curve and his member responded to the sexiness she exuded.

She was beautiful but he wasn't interested in her look or whatever she was saying, all he needed was to get laid.

That was the only thing that could take his mind off what was bothering him at the moment.

*******

Several hours later, a need for blood surged through him and, not being unable to resist the urge as he tried, he stalked to the room, the blonde he brought home, Casey, was in.

She had spent the night over, although it wasn't his intention since he never let anyone use the night, she had passed out whilst they were at it and he wasn't that cruel to toss her out in that state.

So, he moved her to the guest room with the help of his maid.

Trevor hissed and let out a growl as he slipped. He fell face flat on the floor and he groaned.

His eyes narrowed and he glimpsed some oily substances on the floor. Moving closer, he noticed it was fries and ketchup which he had given her to eat before they were intimate.

"Geez…" He muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

He had never been with someone that was as clumsy as Casey and neither was he.

He believed he was blinded by his loss for her and didn't see how out of his league she was.

"Trevor, are you okay?!"

Trevor's head snapped towards Casey. She rubbed her eyes and climbed down from the bed.

His curse must have woken her up because he was certain she was sound asleep.

"Of course, I am ok…"

"Jesus!" Casey exclaimed, making him flinch at the loudness of her voice.

"You are bleeding!" She prodded his head and darted towards his bathroom.

A while later, she came with a neat rag and some water in a bowl.

"It isn't as awful as I thought." She said, "And it's weird, there isn't a sign of injury there. I saw it a while ago and you look…"

"I'm fine," Trevor grunted, shoving her off. He gritted his teeth and tightened his hands into fists as his need for blood intensified.