Chapter Nine – Abby
A week passes. It’s so strange how quickly you can fall into a new routine when everything in your life has changed. You’d think I’d miss my old life, being stuck here in this house, but I don’t. Mostly because the life I was taken from was hardly a life at all, but whatever.
Going through the motions, pretending to be happy; no one knew the inner turmoil inside me. No one saw the darkness in me waiting to emerge. Even my family was oblivious, which is just ridiculous when you think about it, given what happened.
What made me do what I do.
I’m well aware killing is a choice for people like me, and people like Royal, Ezra, and Hawthorne, but since the freaking police can’t be trusted to actually put every monster behind bars, someone’s gotta do it.
Each day, I learn a little more about each of my three captors, although I do hesitate to call them that, given how I’m being treated. Like a guest instead of an actual captive, minus the fact that I can’t leave this house or contact anyone on the outside.
Ezra likes dry cereal. Royal has a thing for breaking his previous weight-lifting records. Hawthorne is glued to the chair in his office, which is even more insane given how lean he is. Someone who hardly moves like that, you’d think would have a little more heft to them.
It’s almost like I’m living with roomies. Roomies who like to kill. A team of serial killers. It’s almost something out of a dream, only it’s real and I can’t look away from them. I don’t know if it’s a train wreck waiting to happen, or if they could be my new future.
I’d be down with joining the team. Of course I would. What kind of crazy woman would say no when three attractive men ask something like that? We see eye-to-eye in a way most people never would, and I don’t fear them like the vast majority of people would. It’d be a win-win.
But, of course, they need to trust me first, which means being patient. Patience is something I’ve been working on lately, for reasons that should be obvious. You don’t become a serial killer with the hope of long-term prison-avoidance without having a bit of patience.
Anyway, it’s just after lunch when Ezra brings me to Hawthorne’s office, where he and Royal are waiting. With the four of us in the room, the room almost feels too small.
“Uh, what’s this?” I ask, glancing between the three of them. My eyes don’t know where to linger longest; each of them pull me to them in different ways.
Royal’s almost menacing demeanor, not to mention his perfectly-dyed charcoal hair and those delicious muscles.
Ezra’s typical boy-next-door blond-hair, crisp blue-eyes mix, plus those tattoos on his arms. The definition of yummy.
And then there’s Hawthorne, who wears those glasses and that button-up shirt-and-slacks combo perfectly, the ultimate sexy point Dexter.
They’re a hodgepodge of deliciousness, okay? Your girl has eyes and can appreciate fineness when she sees it.
When none of them respond right away, I go on, “Have you finally decided you’re done playing nice? You three going to take turns ravishing me on that desk after hurriedly brushing everything off it in a desperate mess?”
Okay, maybe I’ve read too many romance novels. Sue me.
Royal smirks at that, while Ezra quickly glances away from me. Hawthorne, on the other hand, tries to hide a blush and coughs before he says, “No, no that’s not what this is.” Under his breath, he adds, “Though I do suspect you’ll be just as happy once you hear what this is about.”
I doubt anything could top a nice foursome on that desk, but hey, minus the blushing, he seems pretty confident in what he’s saying, so I guess we’ll see.
“Give it your best shot,” I say, folding my arms over my chest as I wait.
“I’ve been given the go-ahead to tell you a little more about us, what we do, and how we do it. The Benefactor has also given me the greenlight to let you out of this house. We’ve been given our next target.”
Okay, I have so many questions after that, I don’t know where to start. “This… Benefactor, he tells you what to do, who to go after?”
“He, or she,” Hawthorne says, informing me that their Benefactor has some level of mystery, even to them, “does fund us, and although we are free to do as we please when it comes to who we go after, we are also given dossiers on potential targets.”
I wonder if this Benefactor has some tie to law enforcement, or enough money that they’re able to pay a dirty cop under the table for information like that.
Regardless, whoever’s funneling this information to the Benefactor is so good at their job that the police haven’t come out and said D.D.K.
’s victims were all rapists and abusers.
“So if you guys are a team the Benefactor basically pays to do this, does that mean there are other teams out there? Is D.D.K. nation-wide?” Victims weren’t only found in this city.
I always thought it was just because D.D.K.
was traveling to kill his victims to throw off the police and the FBI, but if there are more people out there killing and dismembering in the same way…
Wow. I mean, wow. What a system. They deserve medals or something.
“There might be,” Hawthorne says. “We don’t even know, but that’s how this works. It’s better for everyone if we are in the dark about some things.”
“So this next target, you’re going to let me tag along and watch, or what?” At that, I look at Royal and Ezra. “Is the killing duo going to be a threesome now?”
“The Benefactor agreed: we can’t let you go, but if you prove you can handle yourself, you could become a part of this team.”
“And the best way to make sure I keep my mouth shut is to get my hands as dirty as yours, implicate myself,” I say, putting the pieces together.
Not going to lie, it’s something I’ve thought a lot about the past few days.
Might as well make myself useful while I’m here, even if they end up changing their mind. “I get it. I’m okay with that.”
Royal smirks hard. “Told you.” That, I’m not sure if he says it to Hawthorne or Ezra. Doesn’t really matter.
“Before we go over how we normally do things, however, there is one necessary piece of information we are missing,” Hawthorne says.
He leans his forearms on his desk, his amber eyes staring straight at me.
“Your full identity. Your last name. I’ve been watching missing persons reports in the area, and it seems there has been no submitted report when it comes to any Abby or Abigail. ”
He sounds suspicious of me, but I suppose if I was in his position, I’d be suspicious, too.
No point in hiding the truth, so I tell him, “Abigail Brown is my full name. There hasn’t been any reports of me being missing because I’ve been sticking to myself lately.”
“No job that’ll miss you?”
“No job that cares enough.”
“And what about family? Friends? You say you’ve been keeping to yourself, but how long until someone notices they haven’t heard from you?”
I shrug. “I went no contact with my family years ago.” After… well, after the thing that broke us. It doesn’t take much to shatter a family’s connection. You’d be surprised how easy it can happen, when you all lose the one person that was apparently the glue that kept you together.
Everyone deals with loss in their own way. I left and never looked back. I couldn’t.
And friends? Friends went the same way. When one of you experiences that kind of loss and they haven’t, no amount of apologies and well wishes could change things. Sometimes it’s easier to cut the cord and say goodbye. Ghosting exists for a reason.
“And you don’t have to worry about any friends,” I tell him. “I’m a loner just like you three. We’re regular old peas in a pod. It’s almost like we were meant to find each other, huh?” Though I say it as a joke, a part of me does mean it, because seriously, what were the odds?
Hawthorne adjusts his glasses. “I will have to do some research and make sure everything you’ve told us is true. If everything comes back with no red flags, you can look forward to getting some fresh air soon.”
Ezra asks me, “Do you have any other questions for us?”
“I do, actually. The whole sweeping everything off the desk and ravishing me until morning is still off the table? Or off the desk?” As I say that last part, I crack a grin, unable to help it.
Hawthorne groans, while Royal smirks again. Ezra’s expression is mixed.
I drop my arms to my sides and wave it off. “Well, if you guys ever change your mind, I am totally down for some semi-uncomfortable sex on hard furniture. Also down for some comfortable sex on soft furniture, too, for future reference.”
Figuring I’d said enough, I duck out of the office, and as I do so I can’t help but smile.
For a group of serial killers, it sure is easy to get under their skin, but hey, at least we’re making progress. Soon enough, this little captive is going to prove her worth.
I can be a team player.