Page 31 of Strings Attached
I nodded slowly, unsure where he was going with all this. The door closed with a snap, and I waited, pulse throbbing in my ears. A scream echoed from the room, and I clutched the side of the chair. The man’s words were muffled, but I caught a few.
Please. No. Mercy.
I dug my feet into the cement floor, stopping myself from running to the victim’s help. Reminded myself I’d asked for this. There was the occasional whoosh of air and something landing in a soft crunch. I didn’t want to imagine any of it.
The door opened again, and I tightened my grip on the edge of the chair, trying to stop from trembling head to toe. Jack pulled out a tarp with a man lying on it, then let it drop hard. The man’s head hit the floor with a loud thud, and I recoiled, staring. His blue t-shirt had turned a dark crimson, the cut along his throat still bleeding out onto the plastic beneath.
“Eight stabs for eight bites.” Jack motioned to the body with his bloodied knife. “Guess which card he picked.”
I stared from Jack to the lifeless body; I wanted to get closer to see if there were any choke marks around his neck, but even up close, it wouldn’t make a difference. That area was too bloody to tell without washing it.
“Jack of hearts.”
He cocked his head. “Why not the Jester?”
“You likely use other methods than the normal four when they don’t pick. That’s their punishment.” I stared into the eyeless black holes. “Isn’t it?”
“Always so clever.” He approached her. “No questions, then?”
I shook my head and wrote a few notes about everything I’d just witnessed. “Why didn’t you let me be in the room while you killed him?” I asked, jotting down a few more keywords before looking back up at him.
“Because seeing someone take a human life while you stand idly by changes a person forever.”
I know.
He pointed the knife at me, a drop of blood rolling from the blade and staining the paper. I narrowed my eyes on him. “You’re dripping on my notes.”
For a few seconds, he didn’t move or speak. It was as though time had frozen, and even I didn’t dare move. He was unpredictable, and although he played along being the interviewee, I had to remember what he really was. What he was showing me he was.
He laughed, pulling off the mask. The warmth in his gaze was a stark contrast to the cruelty that occurred. Something in the way he looked at me sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I smiled as he pulled away the weapon, and I went back to writing my notes. Everything I’d just witnessed.
“Do you dismember the bodies before putting them in the tub?” I asked, going back and adding a side note to the side about him not wanting me to see the murder.
“Depends on the size of the victim, but with him, he’ll fit as is when I squeeze him in there,” he said as he stepped over his body.
I giggled, and when he arched an eyebrow, I just waved my hand dismissively. “I was just thinking about you deciding to cut them up into little pieces depending on whether they can become pretzel-shaped.” I cleared my throat and quickly averted my gaze. “Sorry.” It was stupid to apologize, considering he’d done the killing, but making light of it also felt a bit wrong. Not to the deceased, but as though I was mocking Jack.
Again, he just stared at me in silence; I could almost see the wheels turning in the back of his mind. I didn’t want to know what he thought. That was a dangerous game. Even though it would make for a great addition to my report.
He walked toward me, then motioned for me to follow him. I got to my feet, and to my surprise, my legs trembled slightly. Had this upset me? I didn’t think it would, considering it wasn’t the first time...
“Go back upstairs. Lye isn’t something you should breathe in, so I’ll do the disposing on my own.”
I grabbed his arm, scared he’d suddenly go back without me telling him to be careful. “Isn’t it dangerous for you too?”
He closed the gap between us and kissed the top of my head. It was so gentle and loving, I nearly burst into tears. “I have protective gear to keep me safe. Go back up. Finish your notes, and I’ll be up a bit later.” He gave me a tiny push into the elevator, then turned the key, sending it back up.
I pressed my notebook against my chest as I walked out into the main area, my thoughts floating elsewhere. All the little things he’d done for me flashed back into my mind, and I couldn’t help but smile. The ice cream he’d bought me... staying awake to make sure I was alright, the gentle kisses. I imagined us living together and doing these things every day. Maybe not the killing, but the rest. It was bliss. Writing my report and what came afterward had been planned for so long… Could I really change my mind?
Could I dare to hope?
I slumped down on the sofa, staring down at the little book. I’d collected evidence for so long, I couldn’t remember what I had done before. Focused on my bachelor’s degree, but it was on the path to my final plan. Everything had been. From the moment I saw Jack murder my foster parents when I was fifteen years old, it was all planned out. He’d rescued me from Hell without even knowing it, and in return, I’d tell the world why people like him were needed. The justice system didn’t always work. Some fell through the cracks, and bad people were allowed to hurt others without consequences.
Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I wiped them away before they could fall. What if I could stay with Jack after the final report was finished? Maybe I could teach a journalism class at the university. Maybe...just maybe, I could live.
21
Need
