This is the last chapter. I know that it's long but it didn't feel right to break it up. I hope you enjoyed this story. I hope that I stayed true to the characters and that it was also believable. Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and left kudos. You have no idea what it means to me. The feedback I got on this story was amazing and it warmed my dark little heart. Prompt me if you want more Mac and I'll try and do it for you. Xo

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

You are a lover in my bed and a gun to my head.

Ava Adore by The Smashing Pumpkins

/

She had gotten to him but he was in control of it.

He'd fucked her Saturday night with no restraints on and she had done everything he told her to do right down to scratching her nails down his back the way he liked.

It was risky, just like having her suck him off in the shower had been but he hadn't been able to resist. There had never been showers before and he'd never kept a girl more than a day.

He followed them and stalked like with Miranda if not as extensively; eight months was a long time. That was the longest he had stalked someone before taking them. Watching her, learning about her and dreaming of her, jerking off thinking about her had been a wonderful tease all those months. She had been different even then. Maybe he had known it all along.

They always cried and begged through the whole thing. It was tedious sometimes and a fucking buzz kill and after a couple of rounds, he was eager to get rid of them. Twenty-nine hours was his max with a girl, most didn't make it that long. Then it was over at his discretion. He was in control of it.

Miranda was a better fuck when she wasn't tied down, that was a fact and also at his discretion and she had made it three days. It was a shame that he would have to kill her on Monday, but it was what it was. Until then he intended to get everything from her that he could.

He rolled over so that she was on top of him and held her in place with his hands on her hips hard so she couldn't get the upper hand with him this way. But he wanted it, ever since she had asked the night before to be on top, he had wanted to know what that felt like. At first, he thought it had been a trick, but fuck it was worth it.

Miranda knew she had to keep fucking him the way he wanted, he had kept her untied during the day now and she wasn't about to fuck that up.

It was Sunday afternoon, she was still alive and she intended to stay that way. She looked out the window past the dingy curtains at the barren landscape.

As she moved her hips against his hard and ran her hands over his chest, she noticed that he had closed his eyes for a second. The look on his face had been one of pure bliss and he was almost beautiful. Miranda wasn't expecting to think those thoughts about him. She could snap his neck right now or at least try to choke him out, his eyes were closed, he was vulnerable. She didn't, she just looked at him, his features were soft, not hard like when he was terrorizing her. She was getting all mixed up and she forced herself to look out the window, not at him.

Mac probably hadn't had a woman on top ever, she figured as she looked outside for a vehicle in the driveway or other houses. His lifestyle didn't really allow for changing sexual positions when you thought about it.

She had seen keys by the front door on the little table the night before, all she had to do is grab them and run. He had closed his eyes, let his guard down, he would do it again eventually.

She would get him to do it again somehow, it didn't matter to her how; just that it happened. She would get those keys. Maybe she could hit him with something when he shot his load since she was on top. There was a lamp on the table right by the bed. She could, if she wanted to.

I'll snap your neck. He had said in the shower.

"Oh fuck yes baby, give it to me," He moaned reaching between them to stroke her, eyes wide open now, "Cum on me."

In one quick movement, he'd grabbed her hand and flipped her onto her stomach. Her face was shoved into a pillow as he pulled her hips up and impaled her on his cock.

One hand went back between them and another went to her breast roughly and she came as instructed, she came buckets with no way to clobber him. He had read her mind again.

Mac came harder than he ever had before and brought his arms around her waist and held her against him. It was amazing, having her in different positions was a treat since he'd never untied one before but he wasn't dumb enough to turn his back on her. She was beautiful and she was dangerous. He knew that all to well.

/

Monday

Mac wanted t keep her and her smart mouth around a little longer. She was a good fuck and gave as good as she got verbally.

It was new, different, she was the only woman that had the balls to mouth off to him. There was no crying or begging with Miranda. She had cried the first night and not since. And he had tried to make her cry, for the sport of it and to show dominance, she wouldn't cry, even when he told her about the poems. She had balls of steel and somehow he knew his admiration of that might bite him in the ass one day. But not today.

It was Monday, though, and she was supposed to die now. He wasn't ready for that, he would keep her for one more day, kill her tomorrow, or the next day, soon. But not today.

It was not the original plan but he wanted to fuck her some more, nice. Then he'd just jack her up with too much heroin and it would be over. He was capable of mercy. It was a surprise even to him, he would do that for her.

That way Miranda would never know what hit her, she would never know that he killed her. She would just go to sleep, a merciful death instead of a violent one.

Tonight he wanted, what did she call it? The girlfriend experience.

She was not and never would be his girlfriend, he knew that, but she made him feel good. She made him feel so damn good.

Mac knew intellectually that Miranda would never be his like that, even if he could play her body like an instrument under his hands. Even if they could have conversations together and share cigarettes in bed. Maybe if they had met some other way it could have been different somehow...

But they hadn't, they met because he stalked her and kidnapped her, and it was what it was.

/

Miranda actually entertained the thought that if she was good he'd let her go; that it might be different.

She knew it was foolish, it was a no-win situation for both of them. He was affecting her brain, getting in there like she was afraid of, making her let down her guard, think weird things. He knew how to keep a woman under control and compliant, he was an expert, she knew this already and yet... She had to be careful with her mind and so many other things.

She was sitting in the kitchen, and he was cooking something, so domestic really,and she looked across the table at him. He had uncuffed her during the day now until bedtime or if he had to go out, that was much more pleasant. He was much more pleasant and had such nice eyes; Miranda shook her head. The words Stockholm Syndrome flashed through her mind. Stop it. She scolded herself. Stop it. You have to find a way to kill him or at the least get away from him she told herself. This is not a love story, get a grip on your emotions.

"This is mellow for you." She said, with a quirk of her eyebrow. "Bowie, really?"

"There's a starmannnnn..." He sang along with the record and put the dishes on the table.

What had she done to him? He thought to himself Mac did not sing. Not Bowie anyway maybe Disturbed, Megadeth, but not Bowie.

"What? I can't listen to different stuff," He joked with a shrug, this was a nice evening, the nicest he had in a long time, "Felt like Bowie today,"

"It doesn't fit you really," She said as he sat down with two glasses at the full set table they had made for their dinner, "It's good though,I'm just surprised. Your music usually sucks."

"Cause it isn't that 90's grunge shit you like?" He teased.

"The eighties are over Mac,"

He grinned at that, "Just hand me the wine, Miranda." He said and in that moment she knew that he knew he had just made a big mistake. She stopped mid-reach unsure if she wanted to do this now. The change that came over his face was one of utter shock, he'd never made a mistake before. She had gotten to him somehow and he had finally fucked up, let his guard down. It was insidious they way it happened.

This was her chance, the opening she was waiting for, the stupor he'd kept her in with the alcohol and drugs was wearing off and she wasn't handcuffed, it was now or never.

He moved to get to her and she knew now it was over, he had seen her indecision over whether she was going to hand him the bottle and finish dinner or try and kill him. He came around to the other side of the table, but this time she was too fast. They stared at each other for a beat and then she gave him the wine alright, right upside the head, twice. Then she was running through the living room and out the door into the vast desert with no idea where to go or hide. She was still pretty fucked, but she was away. She ran as fast as she possibly could, ran for her life because she knew what was going to happen if he caught her. The air stung her lungs as she ran and the dust of the desert kicked up from her feet in a cloud that was almost blinding.

Mac got up after he was momentarily stunned, stunned that she had done that and stunned that he had let it happen. He wiped the blood from his scalp wound and gave chase. She wouldn't get far. There was nowhere to go.

(((((There's a starman waiting in the sky
He's told us not to blow it
Cause he knows it's all worthwhile))))

He burst out the door after her and it slammed back into the house a few times and that noise told her he was coming after her. Miranda ran faster and faster and her lungs burned in her chest. She could hear him coming and the fear welled up in her chest. She had fucked up and he was going to kill her now.

/

She was no match for him and he caught up to her quickly, took a flying leap and tackled her to the ground. They landed in the dirt with a thud and she started kicking and slapping trying to get away from him. She was little and wirey and he lost his grip on her once only to pull her back by the feet as she tried to kick him in the face. Finally, he got on top of her, punched her twice in her beautiful face, and it hurt him to do that to her. But that was what he had to do now. He knew that. She was knocked out, he got up and slung her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

(((((((There's a starman waiting in the sky))))))

He brought her back into the house and swiped the dishes off the table that they had just set and threw her on it. She started to stir and kick at him to get away from her, but she was too dizzy from the punches. He looked down at her, she had fooled him into thinking he could have normal sex, a normal night, maybe a normal life and made him wish for things he had no business wishing for. He knew who he was and she had made him think he was something else, could be someone else.

((((((( He'd like to go and meet us but he thinks he'd blow our minds )))))

"You fuckin bitch I was gonna let you go."
"You're a fucking liar Mac," She spat out as he ripped her at her shorts and underwear and she kicked at his hands.
"I'm gonna fuck you till you die whore." He screamed as he spread her legs wide.
"Fuck you," She managed to get a few shots in and gave as good as she got but in the end, she knew, it was over. But she would not go down without a fight.

"I knew I was dead the minute you said your name the first night," She yelled.

She saw it in his eyes then; hurt, betrayal and finally hate, she had never seen hate in his eyes before. It was the most terrifying moment of her life.

She had ruined it, all of it, he still couldn't believe he fell for it, fell for her. He rained blows down on her in anger now, but he was angry at himself most of all, he hit her all over her body with his fists until his fists hurt. But there was no relief for him.

Miranda fought him, ironically for the first time because now she knew it was the fight of her life. She got some punches in on him too but he was too strong. She was taking a beating and she knew she was going to die.

He yanked her shorts down and slammed into her hard and this time she screamed in pain. This time it hurt like bloody hell.

"You fuckin whore, you god damn fucking whore."

"Fuck you-you Fucking psycho, you fucking serial killer." She slapped her hands on his face but it was no use.

He slapped her again, "I was gonna let you live, I wasn't gonna do this ,why the fuck did you have to run."

Then he pulled the knife from the sheath on his waist and brought it down on her chest one, two, three, four times until he was covered in her blood.

"God dammit you ruined everything", He screamed as he pounded his cock into her and plunged the blade into her chest over and over again into her beautiful skin. Her blood shot onto him, all over his face, his arms and his clothes as he shot his load inside of her. Soon she wasn't moving anymore, he looked down and her and touched her hair, moving it out of her face so carefully. Something flashed over his body, he didn't recognize it at first, he didn't know what the feeling was. He had never felt it before. The emotion was so strong inside of him, it took his breath away, it was grief. Then he collapsed on top of her and held her close for a minute. Another song had come on, the R.E.M song from the other day and he laid there holding her until it was done.

((((((( I'm in like,
I'm infatuated
It's all too much pressure
She's all that I can take
What position should I wear?
Cop an attitude, you faker
How can I convince her, faker
I'm invented too yeah))))))

"I'm sorry Miranda."

Mac pulled himself together after a few minutes, and wiped her blood off his face. This was how it was always supposed to be, he needed to remember that. There would be no grieving over some girl, he pushed her body off the table and it landed on the floor with a thud.

The steak was done and he intended to fucking eat it while it was rare the way he liked it. Then he would clean up, dump her down the mine shaft and then maybe take a walk.

"This is why we can't have nice things, Miranda," He said to no one, or her, he wasn't sure and lit a cigarette. She had made him weak and that would never happen again.

/

Mac sat on the bench in the park and waited. She always came at 11:30am because it was her lunch hour. She was a paralegal, he loved the smart ones and she was small and brunette, just like Miranda, but not her. Jodi would be his number fifteen and it would be different this time. Not like it was with Miranda.

She wasn't Miranda, he had buried Miranda in his backyard three weeks ago. In the end, he couldn't dump her down the mineshaft, it just felt wrong. She deserved to be buried, and a part of him that he wouldn't admit missed her. At night sometimes he wondered what might have happened if she hadn't run; if they had just eaten dinner the way they planned. He would never know and that ate at him daily. This girl's name was Jodi, he waited patiently and then finally he saw her coming, his next pretty girl was right in schedule . He grinned and decided to follow her home that night. He wasn't wasting precious time getting inside her head or learning about her first. There would be no more reading a book just because he knew she read it. He was done with that. It would be different this time. He had learned his lesson. He would never let his guard down again. It was back to the old rules because he was who he was, never keep one more than a day, never uncuff them, never let them under your skin.

Notes: Let me know what you think. Thank you so much for reading. Remember if you have a prompt give it to me and I'll try and write it. And remember to think of Mac every time you hear "Crush with Eyeliner" :)