Page 24 of Peak Cruelty

But I’m bored and hungry and I’d really like to get out of this bed.“You’re wrong,” I say.

Not loud.Not shaky.Just sharp enough to get under skin.

His head tilts slightly.

Not interested.Not surprised.He’s adjusting the angle, like maybe I’ll look guiltier from a different side.

He steps forward.The chair creaks as he sits.And suddenly, we’re doing this again.

He watches me for a while.

“We haven’t properly been introduced,” he says.“I’m a lot of things.But I do believe in manners.”

“These restraints tell a different story.”

He extends his hand.“Vance.”

I nod once.Just enough to keep him from touching me.It’s always obvious.The second a man is about to do something you’ll regret.

“You planned all this just for me,Vance?Must’ve been a slow week.”

“It was the least I could do—” He drops his hand.“And you are?”

I wait.Let the question hang in the air.Let him know he needs to fill in the answer he wants.

“I don’t think this is a good time to fuck around.I asked your name.”

“Why?You already know everything about me,” I say.“So if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer you just kill me and get it over with.”

He stands.Grabs the wrench.“Or I could try this out on your kneecaps instead.”

I shrug, barely.The restraints don’t allow for much.“The end result will be the same.”

He lifts the sheet and then lifts his hand?—

“But if you must know—my name is Marlowe.”

His hand drops.But his fingers white-knuckle the wrench.

He walks to the door.Doesn’t open it.

Instead, he says, “What is it about the women I meet?Liars, all of them.”

Another pathetic excuse for a shrug on my part.

“I guess it’s just not your lucky day, either.”

Something flickers in his face—recognition or ruin, I can’t tell.

His jaw flexes.

This time when he leaves, he slams the door.

And just like that—the clock starts ticking.

13

Vance

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