Chapter 23 #2
“Dogs?” Jess asked in surprise as I watched Abigail from my position beneath her desk.
The churns inside me turned to flutters of excitement as I noticed that she was aware I was here.
I could tell by the way her body stiffened as she loitered in the middle of the room, appearing a little nervous as she bit her lip and tried hard not to look my way.
Knowing I made her feel like that made me feel a certain way.
Uncomfortable maybe? I had no idea. But her nervousness fuelled my confidence. It made me feel powerful again.
“We’re marrying dogs now?” Jess joked.
“No, stupid. I meant they had dogs at the wedding, carrying the rings. Two of them. An adult rottie and a puppy. It was so cute.”
I couldn’t fight the urge anymore, and just as Jess went to speak, I said, “Sounds like the perfect wedding to me,” from my place under her desk, inserting myself into the conversation.
“It was,” a quiet, hesitant voice replied, and I didn’t like that she was speaking to me that way.
Where was the woman who screamed in her apartment, telling whoever was watching her to fuck off?
Where was the woman who fought the attacker in the alleyway?
Who didn’t really need my help to overpower him.
I came out from behind the desk and locked eyes with her, and as I did, I realised she was speaking that way because she was unsure about me.
Wary even. I liked making people afraid.
Petrified even. But with her, I wasn’t so sure.
Whenever I’d seen her sleeping, her peacefulness had a calming effect on me.
Now, standing in front of her for the first time, looking in her eyes, I didn’t want fear. I wanted something else.
“Dogs are special,” I replied, as I became aware of a pain in my chest, that began to ache harder the more I stared at her.
What was that?
I hadn’t felt it before.
I rubbed my chest to ease the burn, wondering why I felt uneasy. I didn’t care what people thought of me. I didn’t care how I came across. I walked my own path, and I’d dare anyone to try and cross it. But in this moment, I couldn’t deny, I kind of did fucking care.
“They’re a gift,” I went on. “We don’t deserve dogs.
They’re too good for us.” Fuck, I sounded like some cliché Hallmark character from a romance movie.
The words spilling from my mouth didn’t reflect the thoughts running through my head.
Yes, I loved dogs. Put me in a room with a dog and a man, I’d choose the dog every damn time.
Even a rabid one. I trusted dogs more than I’d ever trust another man, but she didn’t need to know that. No one did.
Why was I giving her this insight into myself?
Okay, it was small.
Tiny, in fact.
She probably didn’t even realise it was an insight.
But I did.
“Do you have a dog?” she asked, her cheeks growing red as she clutched the folder she was holding tightly to her chest. But I could still see the way she was panting.
The folder couldn’t hide her deep breaths or her eyes that looked at me with a hint of curiosity.
And knowing that fleeting exposure, showing my weakness just now hadn’t lessened my effect on her, made me smile.
As I stood up, her eyes scanned my tall, muscular frame, and then they landed on my tattoos, and her eyes grew wider, and dare I say, warmer somehow.
A warmth that made me break eye contact, and I hated myself for that, so I walked to my laptop in the corner of the room and began typing as I answered, “No. I don’t have a dog.
I travel around too much. But I know people with dogs.
Did you know that petting dogs is good for you?
It’s good for them too. It releases a feel-good hormone in the person and the dog. Gives you both a little mood boost.”
Again, what the fuck was I saying? I didn’t like being around people, and this was why.
Usually, I just killed them, maybe tortured them a little bit for fun.
Others, I ignored. They were the wallpaper of life.
But this girl was turning me into a weirdo who couldn’t regulate his brain before engaging his vocal cords.
If this carried on much longer, I’d have to cut my own throat to put us all out of the misery.
“That’s so cute. I love that,” she replied, giving me the kind of smile I know she reserved for her dad, seeing as that was the only other time I’d seen her light up like this, and I smiled again.
I didn’t know how to interact with people.
I wasn’t built to be around folk because I was awkward, socially unaware and downright angry at the world.
But I’d made this girl smile more than once by switching my brain off and letting words flow.
Maybe that was the key to all this? I needed to let my instincts take over.
But for a control freak, that was a big ask.
I felt a shift in the air again and could sense Abigail watching me.
Was she about to call bullshit?
Did she see through the lies?
Was I about to become as exposed as I felt?
I froze, waiting for whatever would happen next, but when she said, “You have interesting tattoos,” I just stared at my tattooed hands that were frozen and hovering over the keyboard.
“She loves tattoos,” Jess added, and I swallowed, my mind now wandering to places it shouldn’t, like whether she had tattoos and where they were on her body.
I hadn’t seen any when I’d been watching her, when I stood over her bed as she slept, or when I walked into her bathroom... Shit. I needed to get that thought out of my head. Thinking about that time was not productive at this point.
I turned, walking over to her desk, and reached across it to take a pen from her desk tidy.
I wanted to make her feel as uncomfortable as she was making me.
I wanted to grab the upper hand back, wrenching it from her like a thief in the night.
I had to let her know I controlled the narrative, the feelings, the emotions.
I wasn’t the one losing control here; she was.
And when her eyes followed my hands as I picked up the pen and she swallowed, I knew I’d achieved my goal.
“The one on your neck,” she said in a breathy voice, unable to hide her shaking hand as she pointed at it. “It’s kind of scary and cool at the same time. The whole spider web and the word ‘death’. What made you get that?”
I could give her the easy answer or the truthful one.
The truth being, I was the spider, the web was a symbol of my power to capture my prey, and the word ‘death’ was what was coming for every man who’d hurt me in my life.
Every tattoo on my body was etched there for a reason.
My skin told a story, and so did my scars.
It wasn’t a pretty story. But the ending.
.. that was being written by me, and it would be fucking fantastic.
I went with the easy option.
“At the time, I thought it was cool, edgy.” I shrugged like it was nothing.
I scribbled a few useless notes on a pad of paper next to my laptop, then turned around, leaning over her again as she sat at her desk, pretending to be unaffected by my presence.
I brushed my arm against hers as I put the pen back in the tidy, and the spark of electricity I felt made me want to dominate her again.
“Why? Does it scare you?” I asked, darkness shrouding my expression as fire burned in my eyes.
She shook her head, and then in a voice that I felt grab my soul and cling to it, carve into it even, like she was ready to create her own tattoo on my being, she said, “I like scary.”
How scary, exactly? Because as scary goes, I could give her the whole nine yards. I was the guy every parent had nightmares about. Scary was home to me. Scary was what I felt safe with.
“I like a girl who isn’t afraid to admit what she likes,” I said, feeling the fire burn fiercer, more intensely in my gaze as I watched her. The beast inside me purred to find a mate that could tame it.
I gripped the edge of her desk as I looked at her for a second longer to challenge her, see if she’d fold and break her gaze.
But she didn’t. And in those few seconds, something passed between us, and for the life of me, I couldn’t tell what it was, but I knew one thing.
This girl wasn’t just a plaything that I wanted to stalk. She was so much more.
When I’d first started watching her, I had every intention of taking her and using her in my games as a puppet, then throwing her away.
I wanted to make her dad feel a fraction of the pain and anguish I’d felt when I was all alone as a kid.
To punish him for not trying harder. For giving up.
But now, I wanted to do so much more. I wanted to invade every inch of her soul.
To own her in a way no human had ever been owned before.
I wanted to bring her into my world and never let her go.
“Ugh, enough already,” Jess huffed from across the room, her voice breaking into our darkly devious bubble. “Just swap numbers or arrange a date. Then you can do this weird mating ritual on your own time.”
Was that what this was? A mating ritual?
Did she want my number? To go on a date?
I hadn’t done any of those things before.
No one had my number. I didn’t date. I didn’t do life.
Not like other people. My existence was simple.
Stalk, revenge, kill. I didn’t even know anything else would be possible.
Not with my history. And before now, I hadn’t cared.
“I think I can manage that. What’s your name?” I asked, as if I didn’t already know her full name, date of birth, credit score which was terrible, and what products she liked to use in the shower every day. Again, I needed to stop with the shower images. It was fucking up my senses.
“Abigail,” she gasped, and I grinned at her wide-eyed gaze that made me feel powerful and fucking awesome.
“It’s nice to meet you, Abigail. I’m Isaiah. Are you free later?”
What the hell was I saying? I wasn’t ready for this. I had work to do. Gabriel Tolley needed bringing in. I had torture and mayhem to create later. Maybe a few new trophies for my mantlepiece. A date was not on the cards. No. But it was official. I was losing my goddamn mind. I had to have her.
“I am,” she replied, albeit a little hesitantly, and panic took over. I shut my laptop and began packing away.
“I’ll see you later, then,” I said before walking away.
I was the master of my world, but right now, I didn’t know what to do or say, and I didn’t like that. I didn’t know how to play this, so I reverted to my usual response and I retreated, ready to regroup and plan a strategy. It worked with my targets and my kills. It’d work in this instance, right?
I stood outside her office and heard her exasperation as she said, “What’s that supposed to mean? And why did I say yes?”
I didn’t like hearing that. She was questioning whether she should’ve said yes, and it made anger swirl inside me and my jaw clench hard as I fisted my hands.
You said yes, Abigail, because you knew you wanted to see me again, I seethed inwardly, fighting the urge to go back inside.
And as for me, I will see you later... on my screen at home.
.. or maybe in the flesh if the need takes me, which I’m sure it will.
“I guess he wants to surprise you,” Jess told her, then added, “He has tattoos, a bad boy air about him, and he’s a dog lover. He’s the perfect guy for you.”
Perfect, if serial killers with no idea about social cues and a need to be in full control was her thing. Perhaps it was. Not that she had a choice.
“Maybe he is,” Abigail replied, and I smiled wickedly to myself. “Maybe Mr. Right does appear from under your desk one day, looking like every dirty dream you’ve ever had.”
The dirty dream part made my ears prick up. I’d seen the effects of her bad dreams in real time. Something told me I’d enjoy the dirty dreams just as much. But how dirty were we talking?
“Amen to that.” Jess laughed. “But something tells me, with a guy like that, you’ll be the one getting down on your knees.”
“With a guy like that, I’d do it. Did you see how good looking he was? And those tattoos? Lord, help me. But no. I can’t go out with him. Not now. It’s not the right time.”
“Now is exactly the right time,” Jess argued. I was starting to like Jess more. “Abi, you need to live your life. You can’t let other stuff get in the way of that.”
I loitered outside her office, listening to them talk, tapping on my laptop to make it look like I was working to anyone who might pass by.
“Maybe. But no. Not now. Right now, I can’t date.”
At that moment, Abigail appeared in the doorway, looking startled that I was still there. Then she righted herself, stood tall like the fucking queen I knew she was and said, “I didn’t know you were still here.”
“Yep, still here.” I raised my brows and turned back to my screen, like I didn’t care that she was staring at me, and every inch of my body felt like it belonged to someone else.
I was hot and bothered, my mind was racing, but I wanted to appear nonchalant.
Why could I gut a man, torture and kill, and yet, a woman was making me nervous?
“About later,” she said awkwardly, biting her lip before adding, “I’ve got a lot on at the moment, so I need to take a rain check.”
I shrugged like it was nothing. “That’s fine. It was just a thought.”
A thought that I could spend time with you while you’re awake, as opposed to breaking into your apartment and watching you sleep, which I would be doing later. You could count on it.
“Maybe in a week or so we could catch up,” she added, and I had to stop myself from giving the answer that’d sprung into my head, I won’t wait a week. I’ll do what I fucking want.
“Sounds great,” I said, shutting my laptop and turning to face her. “It was nice to meet you, Abigail. I’ll see you around.”
Slowly, I turned away and walked down the corridor, and hearing her sigh behind me made my skin prickle and gave me a sliver of hope, as well as a hint of redemption. She didn’t want to say no to me, and I would be seeing her again.
But it’d be a hell of a lot sooner than she realised.
There was no doubt about that.