The Return of Krazy Karl!

Here's a little something for anyone who may have wondered what Krazy Karl from "Hot Property" is upto. Enjoy! (Excerpt from upcoming "Mr. Fixer-Upper".)

With narrowed eyes, the blonde man in the darkened car watched the couple leave the Wilde Hawg’s parking lot with fevered intensity. When the sight of Anna and her companion faded from sight he looked down at where his long fingers gripped the steering wheel in a punishing grip. His knuckles stood out in sharp relief against the dim dashboard lights. The green glow illuminated his pale skin, giving his flesh a sickly, almost alien appearance.
Of their own volition, his fingers contracted around the hard leather, twisting and making an unpleasant squeaking sound. He barely heard it. He was completely focused on the roar of his blood rushing through his veins as the familiar rage took hold of him.
He had been watching Anna since she moved out and before tonight she’d never varied her route. She went to work, school or the market. That was it. She was so utterly predictable and boring. But he watched her anyway. Because she belonged to him and it was his right to do so, despite the foolish restraining order she’d filed against him several weeks ago. A piece of paper wouldn’t prevent him from keeping an eye on her. She was his property.
A man took care of what was his, even if he didn’t really want her anymore. Just the thought of touching her made him vaguely nauseous, despite the fact that she was the perfect women: young, docile, fair-skinned and pretty. She was even fertile. Their perfect son had been conceived effortlessly the first time they’d had intercourse. A clinical and cold interaction that had occurred on his initial visit to The Farm as a teenager. Anna had been barely eighteen at the time. And a virgin. She’d been so perfect - cowering before him and weeping silently as he’d taken her with brutal force.
Yes, Anna was everything he could possibly desire in a mate and yet there was obviously something very wrong with her. He’d suspected she was hiding something and he’d been right all along. He’d been too young and inexperienced to recognize her deficiency twelve years ago but now his tastes were refined and his body was calibrated to reject women who were inferior. At least that’s what he told himself. What other explanation could there be for his body’s rejection of her?
According to the paperwork she’d provided upon entering The Farm, Anna’s pedigree was flawless but people falsified documents in Easter Europe all the time. Unconvinced, he’d tested her blood in his own genetics lab and it had contained all the Aryan markers he required, but something was obviously wrong. Why else would he find her so repulsive?
His lack of desire for her had made him start to wonder if perhaps he was only capable of performing sexually if he was inflicting pain on his partner. But that would make him some kind of pervert. And he was a perfect human specimen. His grandfather had assured him he was above reproach. So such a weakness wasn’t possible. And yet he’d felt his distaste for Anne increasing with each moment that passed in her pitiful company. He’d had no choice but to have her investigated. The results of that investigation had prompted the beating that had sent her to the hospital. She’d been released while he was at work several days later and had returned to his house long enough to pack her ugly clothes, and steal his son. The fact that she’d actually been stupid enough to take one of his cars still made him chuckle humourlessly. Pretty hard to run away when your getaway car could be tracked through the GPS system. What an idiot.
He’d almost been relieved when he’d come home to find her skittish presence absent from his home. Now he was free to pursue his hobbies unfettered by her watchful eyes.
That didn’t mean he would allow her to find happiness elsewhere. He had brought her to America to be a mother to his child, but more than that, he’d wanted them to create the perfect family together. And she’d had the audacity to reject him despite the fact that she would still be living and working in a lab if he hadn’t intervened on her behalf. She’d been living a life no better than a rat in a cage. She owed him everything. Every single thing.
Yet here she was, hanging out at this watering hole for degenerates. Like some common slut. Like her mother and her aunt. Given the family history he’d recently discovered it was really no surprise she’d left with a man she didn’t know. And not just any man. A Kingston Brother.
In a fit of temper, he crashed his forehead down onto the upper curve of the steering wheel with vicious force. He did this twice more, until he could feel wetness trickling down his forehead and into his pale eyes.
He released the steering wheel with one hand and brushed his fingertips across the bridge of his fine nose in wonder. They came away darkened with blood. His own blood for a change.
“You fool,” he muttered to himself as he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket to retrieve his monogrammed handkerchief. “Never the face. Didn’t that old man teach you anything?” He mopped his forehead with an unsteady hand and closed his eyes as he pressed the cotton to the small gash in the smooth skin above his right eye.
He thought back to the many hours he’d spent trapped in the cold basement of his grandfather’s home as a child. The whippings he’d endured and the lessons he’d learned while kneeling on unforgiving concrete. To his grandfather one idea had been paramount above all others: appear normal. Do not draw attention to yourself. Be non-threatening. Self-inflicted injuries to his face did not coincide with his grandfather’s teachings.
Except for a few isolated incidents, including the brutal beating of a bully in grade school and a few minor stalking incidents he’d been successful in hiding his more violent tendencies. As an adult he was a respected scientist and an influential member of his community. Last year he’d even participated in a bachelor auction for charity. Outwardly he was as normal and benign as a man could be.
Beneath the surface, however, there lurked something dangerous and twisted. Darkness clung to Karl with needle-sharp claws, begging to be unleashed. But he chose not to think about that now. What was important was that he kept his private life a secret and his public life as mundane as possible. Having Anna in his life was a big part of that. With her bland prettiness beside him he would remain above reproach.
The fact remained: he didn’t want her but he needed her. The problem was that she knew too much about him and as a result was rightfully terrified of him. If he could force her back, perhaps this time he would overcome his urges and stay on the right path. His son had a bright future in front of him. The last thing the boy needed was the world suspecting that his father was hiding a monster beneath his mask of gentility. Adam was all that mattered, really. He would do anything to ensure his success. Anything at all.