Page 57 of Ho Ho Homicidal Mania
When my eyes get used to the relative darkness of the smoking room, I notice that only some of the women present are performers or hostesses. Plenty of ladies within sight wear conventional eveningwear, which offers me some relief, and I clap when the show on the impromptu stage comes to an end.
“I… don’t know this side of him,” I tell Nico, but as I’m about to retreat and peruse the rest of the house, my gaze lingers on a familiar silhouette.
He’s even wearing a suit I’ve seen in one of his photos. My brother might have a simple mask over the eyes, but hewantsto be seen and known.
Nico grabs himself a canapé from a passing hostess, seeming perfectly relaxed when I’m about to faint from stress. He’s wearing the red gloves, likely to avoid leavingbehind fingerprints, but all I can remember is how their leather felt inside me.
Carl seems so at ease when he grabs one of the dancers by the waist and carries her to the floor as she giggles, her bare breasts right in his face.
“That’s him,” I mumble, leaning against Nico. “My brother. The one hugging the dancer.”
I never thought of myself as a prude, but there’s something about seeing my older brother like this that makes me long for the safety of Nico’s small apartment.
“We have to get him away from people,” Nico says and while I consider retreat, he makes his way through the crowd like a snake zeroing in on its prey.
I don’t even feel I have a choice, so I follow him, desperate to grab his hand yet too afraid it could draw too much attention to us. Carl stands with his back to us, his arm around the dancer’s waist, but Nico seems to have no issue with making himself known. He leans against the billiards table and his gaze lands on the dancer, sticky with lust.
I’m so taken aback I don’t even know what I’m looking at anymore. He’s like a different man. If pretending comes so easily to him, maybe it’s for the better that we will probably part after this ordeal.
The dancer is drawn in by his interest and relaxed body language like a cat to fresh cream. Despite my brother’s hand on her hip, she flutters her dark eyelashes at Nico and smiles. It’s like a dance. I don’t know the steps, but I’m impressed anyway.
I stand nearby, like a tiny fish safe under the shark’s belly, so when Nico moves, so do I. He approaches my brother and the girl. While I try to remember how to breathe, he’s suave as if he’s attended parties like this allhis life. In the dim light, I wouldn’t be able to tell that his mask is off the discount rack.
“I loved the show,” he says to the girl, and extends his hand to her. When she slides her fingers into his, he kisses her knuckles. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” He turns to Carl, and while my nerves are already in tatters, they now get thrown into a blender. One of those high-powered ones that can crush ice cubes, only this time it’s my ribcage that’s being pulverized before the blades can reach my heart.
He’s never spoken to me quite in this fashion. But should I be bothered? I know for a fact that he’s feigning interest, and I don’t expect him to treat me likea lady, since I’m obviously not one, but green, slimy jealousy still crawls up my gullet. I fight the urge to clear my throat as the sensation burns.
How can I trust him when I know how good he is at pretending?
Then again, would it matter if he never dropped the act and cherished me forever?
That obviously can’t happen, but… in theory, would I care?
Also, I can’t believe I’m standing so close to Carl without him knowing. Maybe this doesn’t bother a psychopath like Nico, but I’m close to fainting.
Just as my brother is about to answer, his lips twisting, the dancer speaks. “Not at all. We were just about to go find ourselves a quiet little nest, but…” Her slender fingers slide up Nico’s arm. “There could be room for more, right Carl?” She glances at my brother, biting her lip.
Nico exhales and stands even closer to her almost naked form. “Illicit. I love it. I can imagine a girl like you craves the thrill. What do you say, Carl?” His smilebecomes predatory in a way that makes my stomach twist with nervous desire and my head empty until all I can think about is his touch, and the power his gaze has on me.
I know Nico’s gay. I know all of this is a ruse to get Carl alone and murder him in cold blood. And yet I despise that he’s smiling like that at anyone other than me. The thought of him going in for a threesome, even if only for the sake of an easier kill later, makes me want to leave, get a new identity, and start a life in his attic, never looking back, just so he doesn’t have to stick to this act.
Carl clicks his tongue. “I don’t know—”
But the dancer pouts at him and strokes his chest. “Come on, baby, it will be fun. He could keep the mask on. We’d never know who he really is.”
Oh. So is this woman… his girlfriend? I know nothing about her existence, and that fact somehow strikes me even more painfully than Carl’s betrayal.
Nico raises his hands. “Andwedon’t have to touch if that’s the issue.”
Carl cocks his head atmeall of a sudden, and I’m a deer in the headlights when our eyes meet. With the mask I’m wearing—literally. “And him?”
My lips dry. He will surely recognize my voice.
Nico pats my back with a smirk. “This is Tommy. Or should I say, Peeping Tommy. He just likes to watch.”
His touch burns in the best way, and I long to kill his act by rolling straight into his arms. Maybe I’ll even ask him to fuck me on the billiards table, because fuck Carl and his opinion of me.
That’s something I only entertain in my fantasies as rage buzzes inside me, a reminder of what my own brother was happy to do to me, to get his hands on all our family’s money.
