Page 8 of Voyeur
“So you kill people?” Zoey somehow felt the need to clarify.
“I do.” I finished up the drink, gripping the empty glass as I set it on the armrest. I ran a single finger around its rim, staring steadily at her, wondering what she was thinking. She certainly wasn’t reacting normally at all, which led me to wonder just how damaged this girl was.
“Huh,” she said, as if I’d just told her that I was an accountant and not a murderer.
Huh indeed.
I leaned forward, noting the way her spine snapped straight with my movement. So I made her uncomfortable; good. At least the girl had some brains tucked away in that pink head of hers. “Let me ask you a question,” I said, my voice low. “Who are you?”
She breathed in deeply, her chest rising and falling once. “I told you. I’m Zoey.”
“Yes,” I admit, “but why are you here, Zoey? What brings you to my corner of the Dollhouse?”
Zoey turned her face away; a mistake. You never looked away from the hunter when you were in its sights. You stared at it, hoped that you could puff yourself up enough to frighten it away or make it choose an easier target. Perhaps Zoey here did not know how to play with the hunters just yet, but I’d teach her. I would teach her everything she needed to know.
It took her a while to answer me, and when she did, it was clear she did not want to talk about it. “I’m not telling you my whole life’s story.” Her full lips drew in a pout, and she shifted her weight on the couch.
She might not have said much, but I could tell there was something she was hiding from. Or running from. Something in her past she didn’t want to face. She wasn’t the first runaway I’d met in my life, and yet I could honestly say, after this short meeting, she was the most interesting.
Those eyes… you didn’t get a stare like that if you weren’t hiding a darkness inside.
Me? I craved the darkness, reveled in it like it was a long-lost friend. I was at home in the shadows, born into a family that dealt in death and aggression. Without darkness, life would be impossibly boring, and I was about to show Zoey how much fun being bad could be.
Tonight would only be the first of many nights I’d see her. She might not realize it now, but I needed to see her bent over and exposed. I wanted to hear her moans and observe her beautiful face as Carter fucked her against the couch, help her dive headfirst into sin and vice.
This was only the beginning.
I let her go shortly after realizing she wasn’t going to tell me anything about herself. Though I had no qualms about having a monopoly on her time in the Dollhouse, I didn’t want to scare her off immediately.
When I was finished, Carter and I headed towards the front. I pushed into the area that said it was for employees only and found Autumn, the Dollhouse’s current manager, sitting behind her desk, counting money. The woman was quite a few years older than me and not my type, but I could respect her for her business—and, of course, I was thankful for her letting me have that backroom all to myself.
Autumn didn’t ask questions; she never did. She knew what was good for her, and she kept her nose where it belonged. If only everyone could do that; it would save the world a lot of pain.
Carter waited just outside her office. The moment Autumn glanced up from her counting, I reached into my suit jacket’s pocket and pulled out my folded cash. I threw down ten bills; a thousand dollars. “For Crystal,” I said.
She was not surprised, and she nodded as she said, “I’ll make sure she gets it before she leaves tonight.”
I threw down another ten bills—these caused Autumn’s brows to crease, though she kept her mouth shut. “For the new girl, Zoey.”
“Ah, so you’ve seen her, then.”
Running a hand down my chest, I stuck the rest of my money back into my pocket before sitting in the chair near her desk. The erection that had plagued me while watching Carter and Crystal, the one that had lingered as I spoke to Zoey, was now gone; I’d taken care of it after sending Zoey from the room.
“What do you know about her?” I asked. Never before had I inquired about any of the workers like this; just went to show you there truly was a first time for everything. Zoey had my attention from the beginning, and I was not a man who fought his instincts. In fact, I let my instincts take over most days.
“Not much,” Autumn spoke with a shrug. “I didn’t hire her because she impressed me with her work history. She’s pretty. You know once she gets on stage she’ll be a hit around here.”
A hit. My teeth ground at that. Even though I just met the girl, I didn’t want her to be a hit here. I didn’t want any of these other fools drooling over her or trying to cop a feel as she walked past, ogling her on the stage like she belonged to them.
I was getting ahead of myself, I knew, but Zoey would be mine.
I never felt this possessive over anyone before, and I knew it had to do with what I saw in her eyes. Or, rather, what I didn’t see. Zoey wasn’t like the other women working here. She was different. I could not wait until I broke through her walls, tore her down, and tasted the darkness residing inside her.
“I don’t want her dancing,” I said.
My words caused Autumn to scowl, wrinkles forming around her gaze. “You do not get to choose who does what here. You might get that room, but you don’t own this entire place, Roman.” The way she spoke, I knew there would be no arguing with her. To make her see how serious I was about this, there was only one thing I could do.
I said nothing, getting up and walking out. I didn’t own this place? That could be remedied. Anything could be bought if you were insistent enough. Insistent or threatening enough, I should say.
