Page 39 of Psychopath

They called Zane sick, and a danger to society. More men and women came out with stories of ‘the real Zane Black’. Nothing was proved, but it painted Zane in a negative light.

Then one day, he snapped.

“They finally stopped labelling me on murderer. If I’m ever in the papers now, it’s ‘murderer Zane Black’,” he said.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“It can’t get any worse, right?” He sighed. “And there’s something freeing about that. Now, I’ve been good and answered your questions, will you answer one of mine?”

Quinn dropped his pencil and slumped back. “Fine…but I have the right to refuse to answer.”

Zane nodded. “Always. Have you ever inserted a vegetable?”

“Inserted—a vegetable, where?” Quinn gawped. “Hell no! Of course not.”

His face heated, and Zane raised his eyebrows.

“I really haven’t.”

Zane’s eyebrows kept climbing, and Quinn shook his head frantically, fanning his face with his hand.

“Lucky vegetable.”

“But I haven’t!”

“Well…” Zane gritted his teeth so Quinn could see. “You’re blushing so...”

“I’m blushing because you’re making me feel like I have when I haven’t.”

“You sure?”

“I think it’s something I’d remember.”

Zane broke out in a laugh, and Quinn narrowed his eyes.

“That’s not funny.”

“Didn’t think it was possible for a person to turn that red.”

Quinn scrubbed at his cheeks, but it was no use. He could feel his skin glowing.

“But if you had actually inserted a vegetable—”

“Which I haven’t.”

“Your face would’ve turned red, so can you see my dilemma.”

Quinn laughed. “But I really haven’t.”

Zane hummed. “Your eyes would’ve darted, and you probably would’ve rushed from the room.”

“Let me guess, you would’ve been able to tell the exact vegetable from the number of steps taken to run away.”

Zane winked. “I would’ve just named random ones until you reacted.”

“That’s cruel.”

“Well, thankfully for you, you’ve not got a thing for vegetables.”

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