It was the fifth night in a row. Johnny always told himself to head home after his daily tasks were completed but each night, like clockwork, he would find himself staring longingly at Navaya's house. Each night after he wiped off the blood that splattered on his skin from torturing the men that harmed her, he would find himself driving on the road that led to her house. He should have gone straight home tonight as well. He had no logical reason for coming here other than to appease the part of him that craved her nearness.