Page 45 of The Sinners Touch

No. He’d marry her. He’d show her how much he loved her. If he could convince her of that, maybe she wouldn’t leave him.

The buzzing of his phone snapped him out of his memories. He picked it up off the table and saw the front desk’s number flashing at him. What did they want this time of night?

What if it was another package?

He swiped the bar and answered. “Kincaid.”

“Mr. Kincaid. I have some people here who would like to see you. They are from Kincaid Security Corp. They said they’d be handling security for Miss Lemoraux? If that is the case, then they need to fill out the proper paperwork, but…”

“But?”

“But they are being difficult.”

Of course they were. He glanced at the stairs. She should be okay for a few minutes. No one could get up here without a key.

“I’ll be right down.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

He stretched, arm muscles rippling. He walked to the dresser where a pan of water sat. Dipping the washcloth in it, he proceeded to scrub the blood from his arms. He rinsed the cloth in the water, fascinated as it turned red.

The whimper from the bed caught his attention. He regarded his canvas. The blood had run and pooled, drying in places. It swirled in a myriad of patterns that spoke to him. Beautiful.

It was all about the glory of the patterns.

Everyone looked for patterns. Even the ordinary souls found patterns in their everyday life. It was human nature. A slow smile curved his lips as he thought of the police and the FBI. They had to be driving themselves nuts trying to find a pattern in his kills.

The simple truth was they’d never find a pattern. His patterns weren’t in the canvases he chose. His patterns could be found in the beautiful lines created with each drip, each small stream of blood as they trickled down the body that served as a perfect canvas to create upon. He chose his canvases young only because they tended to be fit, their blood quick and sure.

And they needed to be women. Men really held no appeal for him. A woman could satisfy other needs as the paintings drewthemselves. Though he supposed it might be an experiment to see how differently the patterns formed on a male canvas. He didn’t know if he’d be able to sate his needs on a male canvas, though.

No, he decided. Best to stick to what gave him pleasure.

He walked back over to the bed and released his beauty from her restraints. She cried out when he picked her up. The burns on her skin had reddened to just the right color.

“Come, love, let’s get you to the bathroom.” He carried her to the toilet and helped take care of her business then turned on the shower. “We need to get you cleaned up. We have a date tonight. I have something special planned.”

It took him a few minutes, but he got her bathed and her hair washed. It cleaned all the blood away, but that was fine. He had photographs to look at. Besides, the new games he had planned would put his beloved chaos theory to the test again. He took his time and towel dried her body, relishing every small cry where he rubbed a burn or cut `a little too hard. Her hair took a little longer, but once he was finished, she looked fresh and clean.

“Come, you must be starving.” He picked her up off the bathroom floor and carried her into the living room. Her eyes examined the room, looking for exits. He knew this without looking at her because they all did this. There was no escape, though. The door was padlocked on the inside, and bars adorned the windows. She could get up, walk around, scream, pound on the door, but with no one around for miles, her efforts would be moot.

He put her on the couch then wandered into the kitchen. He popped a frozen pizza in the oven and grabbed two beers from the fridge. She cringed when he sat beside her, popping the tops.

She tentatively took the bottle he handed her. “Drink.”

That pert little mouth sipped at the beer, and he felt himself harden. So many things she’d already done with that mouth. So many more things she could do.

No. He shook his head. Best not to get sidetracked. He flipped on the television.Scandalwas on. He enjoyed the show. Leaning back, he threw an arm over her shoulder, his fingers curling into her arm and pulling her close. She tensed and tried to pull away. “Now, now. We’re trying to have a nice movie night. Don’t be like that, sugar. You don’t want to upset me, now, do you?”

She shook her head and forced herself to relax.

He nuzzled her hair. “Good girl.”

The fight in her wasn’t nearly as strong as the last girl. His attention was waning. If it weren’t for the red hair, he’d probably already have disposed of her as a failed effort. His disposals were never left for the world to see. They ended up in the ground, away from prying, judgmental eyes. No one would see his failures. Perhaps he should give up on this one and find another?

But no. The police already knew about her. He’d made no attempt to hide her abduction. He wanted them to know, to see he planned on taking Angel. It made the game that much more fun. If he disposed of her now, they’d start asking questions he didn’t want them to ask. Why get rid of her of her so early? Was he escalating?

Truthfully, he wanted to rush, to get this part over and done so he could focus on taking Angel, but he needed a plan first. She was locked away from him. He’d hoped she’d come to work tonight, but she’d stayed away. Agent Pretty Boy’s doing. He was sure of it. How to separate the two of them?

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