22. Bad Things
Bad Things
O ctober brought a rainbow of warm colors to the tree leaves, and I couldn’t be happier.
The season was cooling, and I was back to wearing clothes I liked instead of dresses constantly.
In this weather, my favorite was leggings with a long top.
Simple, comfortable and, depending on the bottoms, could have a variety of different patterns and hues.
I flushed the toilet and washed my hands, enjoying the scent of the new soap I’d bought—jasmine. Once done, I stepped back out into my living area.
“Who’s Martin?” Jack asked, his gaze burning into my core. He held up my cellphone open to the texting app, and my breath hitched.
Oh shit.
I grabbed it from him, trying my best to ignore his continued glare. If looks could kill... except he didn’t need his looks. He did kill.
Martin: Haven’t heard from you in a while. Everything ok? Want to hook up tonight?
I almost snorted; he was just horny and wanted some. He didn’t care if I was fine when I asked for a place to stay temporarily. It had been weeks since my last text. And the first thing he texts me is for a hookup? How did I ever have a crush on this asshole?
Putting the device back onto the coffee table, I shot Jack the iciest stare I could muster. “Is there a reason you’re going through my phone?” I frowned. “Wait. How did you even get into it in the first place?”
“I’ve seen you input the PIN several times,” he said with a shrug. “And I saw his name and wanted to know why a man was texting you.”
“You had no right.” I placed my hands on my hips, annoyed at his snooping. “I’m allowed to my privacy.”
He got to his feet, and I took a step back at the way he smiled. “Then consider me looking into your phone my ask for today after you’ve finished asking me a bunch of personal questions.”
Guilt bubbled to the surface, but I pushed down against it. No, it wasn’t the same. He’d agreed to this. Under some amount of duress...but he still agreed. “Fine.”
I just hoped he didn’t look further into my texts with Martin since it mentioned the software I needed him to install on my laptop. The one keeping Jack from murdering me.
Would he still kill me after the time we’ve spent together? The questions gnawed at my heart, and I didn’t like it one bit. He said I was stuck with him, but was that until he got tired of me and ended everything?
I grabbed my notebook from the coffee table and sat on the sofa. “Do you keep trophies?”
He seemed reluctant to answer, taking his time to sit down next to me, all the while saying nothing. He didn’t even look at me.
“I do keep trophies, yes.”
I perked up at that revelation, quickly jotting down the answer on the paper. “What kind? Can I see―”
“No.” The word sliced through the air. “You can ask, but it’s the one thing I refuse to give you any information about.”
I wanted to protest; I wanted to see if I’d recognize anything from my foster parents. Needed to confirm I hadn’t imagined the white knight with a black mask and leather gloves snuffing their evil lives.
“Is there... a reason you don’t want to share?” I asked tentatively, not wanting to push him too far; he already looked mad.
“Yes, but I’m not giving you that information either,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Next question.”
I pouted for a second as I returned to my notebook, curiosity burning through me. Still, I pushed it away for the time being and focused on my next question. “How do you choose your victims?”
“It depends, but most of the time, they happen to fall into my lap, so to speak.” He glanced at me with a twinkle in his eyes, and I pressed my lips together.
“Are you saying I’m a victim?” I wasn’t sure why I wanted the answer to this question; maybe to know where I stood with him?
He turned to better face me and slid his hand along my thigh. It wasn’t sexual, and I relaxed a bit. I enjoyed it when he was affectionate, not just wanting me sexually all the time. It was a nice change from what I was used to with other relationships I’d had.
“You’re an exception to the rule in so many ways.” He gave my knee a quick squeeze in reassurance, then straightened. “As for victims, I just happen to have a sixth sense or something. I find a person that interests me, and after stalking them for a while, I usually find out they’re like me.”
“Like you?” I repeated with a frown.
“Bad people who are better off dead.”
At the thought of him dead, I cupped the side of his face, blinking back tears. I didn’t know what to say, but I hoped my expression was enough to convey how much I cared about him. He turned his head, kissing my palm and sending goosebumps along my arms.
“So you murder people who do bad things?” I asked, not bothering to write in my notebook; it didn’t seem so important at that moment.
“Yes, but that doesn’t make me a good person, Jill,” he said in a dark tone as though following my train of thought.
To me, it did make him the hero. My hero. What else was it called when someone rescued another from horrible conditions? But I wasn’t going to tell him that. Not until the very end.
Maybe there didn’t need to be an end? The little voice that had never been there before Jack―the voice for life―nagged at me to reconsider. The plan could change. It had to. Things were different.
We weren’t a couple; this kind of relationship didn’t have a proper title. All I knew was I belonged to him, and he was mine. That was what we were to each other. And it was more than enough.
“I have to work tonight,” he said, glancing toward my phone. “It’s likely pretty late.”
I nodded, standing up with him. “Do you work tomorrow too?”
“For the next six days. One of my co-workers is sick, so I’ve taken his shifts.”
I felt like such a child at that moment, wanting to complain about him leaving for work. Why was I suddenly acting like a baby? This was ridiculous. “I get it. In this economy, stuff is expensive, so it never hurts to have extra income,” I said with a forced smile.
“Plus, I enjoy having people owing me favors,” he said with a smirk.
I laughed, knowing that all too well from him. Still, he wasn’t even gone yet, and I missed him already. I was becoming one of those sappy romance girls.
“By the way, one of the nightclubs where I work is hosting a Halloween party I’ve been invited to. I’d like you to come with me,” he said, sliding his hand to my lower back and bringing me closer to him.
I shouldn’t have felt as giddy as I did. It wasn’t as though it was a date or anything. He was working, and I’d be there to enjoy the festivities...with him. I nodded faster than intended, almost bouncing my head off my shoulders. “I’d like that very much.”
He grinned. “Before I leave, I have an ask.”
“Okay...” My heart hammered faster, wondering what he’d ask for today.
He pulled out his gloves, then motioned at the sofa as he slipped them on. “Sit and spread your legs for me.”
I just stared at him for a few seconds, blinking. Still, I didn’t argue or ask for more details as I sat, face heating up with each pulse. He kneeled in front of me, caressing my thighs as he tugged on my leggings.
“Off.”
I swallowed hard and wiggled out of them with his help. If it was possible to die from combustion, I might’ve done it then and there. This was somehow more intimate than the last times, the way he stared at me hungrily.
He pushed my panties to the side and took his knife out. My pulse throbbed in my ears, and my legs instinctively tried to close against his.
“I have someone on my victim list I’m planning to hunt down in the next few days, and I want your scent when I take their life,” he said in a growl as he flipped the weapon so his gloved hand held onto the blade.
Slowly and without losing eye contact, he pushed the handle into my tight opening, and I gasped. “I want to smell you when I kill him.”
I gawked at him, my breathing turning shallow into small gasps as he pumped in a few more times. When he pulled it out, he licked the handle, closing his eyes as though he was experiencing bliss.
“Jack...” I whined his name, needing more.
He smirked before putting the weapon away, then sliding his fingers into me. I arched back against him, and several minutes later, I came. Hard.
“I adore when you cum for me, darling girl,” he said in a harsh whisper. He kissed the tip of my nose, and I smiled as he headed toward the door.
I already missed him.
I went back to my notebook, transcribing them onto my laptop for safekeeping.
Plus, it was where I was writing my report, so it was just easier.
As I got back to the place where he wouldn’t answer about trophies, I stopped.
Why wouldn’t he talk about those? Where did he keep them? Likely in his home somewhere.
A devious idea popped into my mind, and I did a quick internet search.
Just to satisfy my curiosity. It wasn’t as though I’d actually buy a wireless video camera and hide it in his place so I could spy on him.
And even if I did, was that really as bad as drugging me, breaking into my apartment, kidnapping me, and threatening me?
Of course not. Spying was a lesser crime in comparison.
Before I could change my mind, I clicked the purchase button and put it out of my mind. It would be fine. I just wanted to see if he was hiding any trophies, and if I could just get a quick glimpse of them, that’d be it. No harm if he never found out.
All I had to do was find a good time to install it at his place.