“No. I don’t.”
“Do you really expect me to believe that?”
He just shrugs.
“So the night you got arrested when you tried to strangle me…that was just an accident? You slipped and your hands just somehow wound up wrapped around my throat?”
The manic grin returns. “I’d forgotten how funny you are.”
“Great.”
“This is going to be embarrassing to admit, but I panicked when they broke down the door. The idea that they were going to separate us was upsetting. That they would take you away from me.”
“You make it sound like you own me.”
“Don’t I?” he asks, voice oh so sincere. “I like to think it’s a mutual sort of thing. Don’t you think we’re perfect for each other?”
“No. Just no.”
As soon as he gets close enough, I’m going to attack. Target his vulnerable spots: eyes, nose, throat, temples, jaw, solar plexus, groin, and knees. Doubtless he’s thinking the same thing about me. How he wants to end me. But he seems so relaxed. His arms hang loose at his sides and the creepy-ass smile stays on his face. There’s no need for him to wield a weapon. Two strong hands have worked for him just fine in the past.
“Let’s see this study your cousin was talking about. I’ve been so curious about this.” He nods in the study’s direction. “Open the door and then step inside. Don’t do anything stupid. Just because I don’t want to hurt you doesn’t mean I won’t. Trust me when I tell you having your fingers broken one by one is not something you’d enjoy.”
I walk slowly around the dining room table to the study door. And he follows a step or so behind me.
I turn the door handle and push it open. And he grabs a fistful of hair from the back of my head and holds on. His grip is good and tight, and it hurts. I consider reaching behind me to grab his wrist and then pivoting around to strike him, but that would mean it’s game on. And I’m not sure this is the right moment to launch into an attack. Because I don’t just mean to hurt the man. I want to kill him.
“Let’s see what you’ve got here,” he says, walking me toward the map on the wall. The one of all the nearby parks. Brightly colored pins mark the fifteen sites we’ve been targeting so far. We’ve searched them on foot without finding anything, but we’re hoping the cadaver dogs can help us find the exact locations. He takes his time, leaning in close to inspect our work. “Looks like you’ve been trying to find my girls.”
I’m quiet for a moment, then I say, “I don’t think you have any girls. If there were, we would have found them. I think the reports of your being a serial killer are wildly overblown.”
He bursts into laughter. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to reveal my kills because you’re playing to my ego?”
I shrug. “I just don’t think you have any kills. Tell the truth. You lost your nerve after poor Briana Petersen, didn’t you?”
“You don’t know shit.”
“I know you.”
“The funny thing is, you found Avery,” he says, moving several of the pins in my map around. “But you’re way off on the others. Here they are, not that your little murder map will do you any good after I start the fire in here. Make sure all of your research is destroyed and my girls stay mine. And if you don’t behave you’ll be added to the list. Does that make you feel special?”
I keep my mouth shut. The more in control he thinks he is, the better. I am going to remain calm and wait for my moment.
“I knew it was indulgent of me to take you to visit them,” he says. “I tried to take circuitous routes to throw you off a little. But I just couldn’t resist the temptation to be near them, you know?”
My brows knit together in confusion. “Why did you take me to those places? Couldn’t you bear to be near them on your own?”
“Because sharing them with you was special.” His gaze roams around the rest of the room. The books on true crime etcetera. And all of the photos on the walls of us together and all the places we visited. “See…you’ve been thinking about me too. We’re more alike than you want to admit.”
“This isn’t me sitting around reminiscing about how great things were between us. And I can assure you that we’re nothing alike.”
“I don’t know. Putting up this many photos seems more than a little obsessive if I’m being honest. Like you might be fixated on me.” He tightens the hold on my hair. “I mean let’s face facts,this isn’t normal. My therapist would have so much to say about this room, Sidney. He would go on and fucking on about what all of this means. Though it does kind of explain why that other guy didn’t hang around. You really haven’t moved on from me at all, have you?”
“I hate you.”
“You were always so much fun. Anyone with half a brain would try to pacify me right now. But not you. Look at you seething, and not even smart enough to hide it,” he says, still holding my hair with one hand and grabbing hold of my chin in a bruisingly hard grip with the other. “The hatred in your eyes is completely out of control. So much rage barely hidden below the surface. Right there underneath that soft pretty skin of yours. And you’ve always been this way…so angry at me and the world and everything. But then they say love and hate are two sides of the same coin, don’t they?”
“What are you even talking about?”
