7. Psychopath Indeed
Psychopath Indeed
Aburner phone leaned against the fruit basket, next to it: a handwritten note.
All that was left on the kitchen counter the morning after their ‘shopping spree’.
“Oh, by all means, stay far, far away.” she whispered under her breath, turning to glance at his humongous dog. Her company for the next few days had his head tilted on his paws. Amber eyes fixed on her. Food. The demand was nearly engraved in his intense gaze. “Yes, yes. But first.”
She let her feet and hands roam over the place.
Two doors… locked. One she knew to be his bedroom.
The other, a glance through the peephole told her it was his study.
A large desk, two green-tinted comfortable chairs.
And another door, leading to Gods knew what.
A torture room maybe, stowed away from his civilized home.
She blinked, vision double from staring.
Walking back to the hallway, her eyes fell on the wildlife photos littering the walls. A squirrel perched on a branch, staring right at the camera. A wild boar, and… Ghost, one with the winter scenery.
So he had taken those shots.
It wouldn’t be hard to imagine Lucien crouching in the bushes, breathing near-silent as he snapped shots of unsuspecting natural visitors. However, the idea of him hiding in the shadows with a gun in hand, trained on his next human victim… made more sense.
Maybe that was what he was doing right now.
Not helpful, Kate.
So a minimalist house with nothing to indicate family or friends. No pictures of him in his youth. Sleek and clean. The classical case of a psychopath.
Hands on her hips, she surveyed the rest of the interior. Comfortable couch, bookshelves, piano, windows. Let’s check the windows.
She lingered on the smoke alarm, though something told her it wasn’t for smoke, no. They lined the top of each window, which was open a crack, carrying the icy tang of winter inside.
Now what if she… Fuck, fuck, fuck. She pressed her hands against her ears. Alarm blaring through the house. Ghost ran up to her, throwing his neck in his shoulders to mirror the sound with a high-pitched howl. Not ten seconds later it stopped and silence filled the house once more.
“Windows are off limits.” Kate leapt up in the air with a hand on her heart. Eyes flitting between the cameras until she’d found the soulless black orb tracking her movements. The sick psychopath was watching her.
Lucien’s voice filled the house from all sides, pressing down on her. “I’m working at the moment, and would very much appreciate it… if the alarm on my phone didn’t sing its song.”
With one hand she readied her middle finger, the other made a show of reining in a fish, with it her middle finger came up, flipping it at the camera.
“Thank you.” The hint of amusement was unmistakable. He seemed to possess the patience of an angel. Too bad she didn’t share the sentiment. And too bad he was a cunning, sadistic piece of shit going around killing people.
Work. He was at… work. Whatever that meant.
“You’re more than welcome.” She blurted out. There was this urge though, still in front of the window. She reached out with a hand. What if she just… did it again? She yanked on the handle and the alarm filled the house once more.
Open, just open up.
So he had an alarm on his phone? Pinging her movements?
Fine. If the window opened, it wouldn’t matter.
Most likely he was too far from the house to chase her through the snow like a fox snapping at her heels.
The handle turned. A smile broke through her lips.
Freedom within reach. But instead of opening, the window sealed shut. The grin fell from her face.
“Nice try.”
Point taken.
Kate shrugged her shoulders, attempting to calm her racing heartbeat.
Chess, she should see it as a game of chess.
Only with life or death as her win or loss. But there were endless moves on the board, each bore consequences. And she had to take one, lest her defeat was to be written in stone.
A smile spread her lips wide, she couldn’t wait to spit out checkmate.
Kate danced over to the bookshelves and with a delicate finger she whipped out a book.
Let’s see how he likes to live below a magnifying glass.
Books could tell you a lot about someone, strip them wide open. She imagined him watching with a wince on his face. Kate smirked at the book she held, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring? Huh. At least our boy here has taste.
She wondered if young Lucien would have seen himself as Aragorn, or one of the other heroes.
Honestly, he could volunteer for the role of Gollum.
That might suit him better. Allowing that thought to lift her mood, she trailed her hands over the books.
There were so many. Fantasy, thrillers… romance? She snorted. Unbelievable.
Setting her hands on her hips, she took a second to take in the enormous collection before her. Itching to dive headfirst into his literature. Imaginary worlds had been… her way of coping throughout the years if anything, she’d be continuing that hobby. For however long that would last.
Something pushed against her leg with a whine. Ghost. Right. He was watching her beneath his eyelashes that practically screamed, food.
Kate padded toward the kitchen with the zooming of the cameras trailing behind.
Even the glass squares within the cabinets seemed to stare at her.
The secluded location of the house, the owner breathing down on her every move.
Her leg tingled. Recognizing the warning, she clutched the counter with a white-knuckled hand.
Finally, her leg gave out, forcing more weight on her grip around the marble.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I hope the psycho hasn’t caught this one.
She forced herself up. Out. She needed to get out before she went stir crazy from the stress. And before her captor discovered secrets she couldn’t bury down deep enough.
In and out. Keep going.
Regaining the use of her legs, she opened cupboard after cupboard. No dog kibble to be found anywhere. What was she even supposed to feed his wolf of a dog? Her stare fell on the fridge, maybe he had frozen food for his companion.
Kate opened the door of the fridge a crack, peeping through it before swinging it open.
Her mouth fell open. It was almost like a painting, with the colors of the rainbow stacked to the brim.
She ruffled through it, moving the carrots, peering over the red glowing peppers.
No cheese, no meat. Huh? Puzzled, she checked the freezer.
He must be keeping his stash of wild-caught game in there.
Telling herself to stop being a pussy she opened the freezer. Fearing she would see the worst, an arm, a leg, other body parts he’d needed to store for some weird reason her brain was making up.
Nope. Instead, frozen vegetables? There was one red package sticking out with its bold colors, daring her to touch the sticky cold sack to discover… frozen berry mix? She chuckled to herself.
Psychopath indeed.
She turned to Ghost, who sat watching her, tail thumping on the floor. “Where can I find your food?”
The dog ran off with his tail swishing behind him. Only to return with… a piece of paper in his muzzle? She gingerly pried it out between his teeth. Opening the crumpled paper to find it was another note in Lucien’s writing.
Right, forgot to mention. You can find Ghost’s kibble in the plastic tub next to the stove. He loves a good old carrot or vegetable stew though. Feel free to spruce up his food. He won’t mind.
Lucien had even gone as far as to draw a little happy emoji. Honestly, what was wrong with this guy? Bad question, what was right with him? Ghost’s tail slapped the floor, sitting in front of a plastic tub.
Allowing a small smile to form at his enthusiasm, she announced, “ let’s fix you a meal boy.”
***
The heavy hum of a familiar engine brought Kate back to the world of the living. Kicking off the blanket she’d been huddled under, she raced to the tiny window in the front door.
It was him, alright. Two days of silence following their ‘fun’ with the alarm. But her housemate had returned. Hooray.
Lucien reversed the Volvo onto the driveway, stopping in front of the garage door. Closing the door with a thud, he didn’t move to fly up the steps. No… he flung open the garage, rattling the silence. Disappearing inside to reappear with… cleaning supplies.
“At least I see what needs cleaning.”
He popped the trunk and bent down to grab a sponge from the bucket. Her stomach twisted into a tight fist. She knew it. Had seen it firsthand. But to witness it again. The unapologetic darkness swirling around in what seemed like a human being.
Charismatic as he could make himself be, surrounded by women like Clara and Denise, even with her. He took lives.
Pacing in front of the door, she made up her mind.