I was casually scrolling through Instagram while riding the bus home.

Since I got off work so late, there wasn't really anyone else on the bus.

I sighed and randomly liked another picture, finding all the posts boring.

I need to spice up my life, it's getting too repetitive.

I shut off my phone and pulled out my note pad, reading over the notes written in it.

I work as a homicide detective for the state, and I'd been chasing the same criminal since I started.

An infamous one, that pretty much everyone knows.

Jeff the Killer.

He's 25, a year older than myself.

Black hair, blue eyes, stands at 6'0, and has his famous smile carved into his face.

Hard to miss, right?

So you'd expect me to have noticed that he was 3 seats behind me on the bus.

Well, I didn't.

See, while I was trying to tracking him down, he'd been watching my every move for the past 7 months.

And no, I hadn't noticed.

At all.

In fact, I hadn't even glanced at anyone else on the bus.

So when he moved to the seat right behind me, and put a knife to my neck, I was pretty startled.

"When the bus stops, you're gonna stand up, and walk out of the doors, then, you're gonna keep walking until I say so, got it? Make one wrong move and I'll slice your fucking neck open." I felt cold metal touch my neck, pressing against it harder as he spoke.

I tried not to gulp, and nodded lightly.

"Good little detective." He said.

The bus came to a stop, and I slowly stood up, he came up right behind me and held the knife against my back.

I walked slowly, my eyes pleading for help as we walked past the bus driver.

He didn't even glance at me.

The bus doors closed as soon as we got off, the bus beginning to drive again.

Once we were off, I was tempted to fight back, knowing exactly where my gun was and how quick I could be to shoot this bastard.

"I've been chasing you for 5 fucking years, and NOW you decide to show up?!" I muttered to myself.

"What was that? You've been looking for little ol' me?" He asked sarcastically, the knife returning to its place against my jugular.

"You know I have you bastard." I snapped.

"Don't get snippy with me. Keep walking, back to your house. Home intrusion is my staple." He said, tapping the back of my knee with his foot.

I began walking, knowing we were only a few blocks away from my apartment.

I sighed as I walked, feeling my phone vibrate in my back pocket.

Someone's calling me.

"Answer it. Say anything about you being in trouble and I'll slit your throat." He threatened.

I reached into my pocket and brought my phone out, seeing that my mom was calling me.

What could that bitch want?

It's 2 in the morning.

I clicked the decline button and shoved my phone back into my pocket.

"Why didn't you answer? Do you want to keep talking with me? How sweet. I might even consider letting you live." He whispered seductively into my ear.

"Don't patronize me you asshole. I don't talk to my mom anymore. Stupid ass whore." I muttered.

"Who's a whore? Her or me? Cause I sure as hell ain't." He said.

"Her. I don't wanna know about your past encounters. I'm still surprised we never found any signs of rape in your victims." I raised an eyebrow, seeing my apartment light was on.

"I'd never rape anyone. I'm sick but not that sick. I've even taken care of a few of those bastards for you." He said.

"Oh, look, your lights are on. Expecting someone?" He asked, leaning in closer to my ear.

"No. And it better fucking not be-" Jeff cut me off.

"Your stupid ass ex Jacob? Hate that prick. Your guys' breakup was so messy. And he was abusive, anyways. I'll even kill him for you, and I'll dispose of the body." He offered.

"No, thanks. I'll deal with him. And why the hell am I making casual conversation with you?! You kill people!" I questioned loudly.

"Quiet down, bitch. And you don't hate me because I only kill people who deserve it. We happen to live in a city with a lot of sick fuckers." He said.

"I guess that's true. We probably would've given the death sentence to at least 50 of the people you've killed. I won't turn you in right away, but I'll need you to not threaten me anymore." I said.

"You've been chasing me for years, and you aren't going to turn me in? I see your gun, you could've easily chosen to unholster it and shoot me, why haven't you?" He asked suspiciously, easing the knife away from me.

"Because, I've got a few questions for you. And the questions can't be in my report, or I'll be taken off the case, and won't get credit for any of my work." I explained.

"Hm. Fine. But it's cold, let's take this inside." He said, putting his knife away.

I sighed in relief and spun around to face him.

He's much more attractive than I expected.

And his hair is longer than we thought, along with his smile not being as deep as the sketches.

This is gonna be a rough night.

"Well, you probably already know my name but I'm (Y/N) (L/N), or Detective (L/N)." I said, holding my hand out for him to shake.

"You already know me. Jeffrey Woods." He said, shaking my hand.

His hands are rough, but they feel... nice.

And he's surprisingly warm for how cold it is right now.

I nodded and waved for him to follow me as I walked into my apartment building.

He followed, putting his hood up.