Page 41 of Pose for Me
Jacob looks at me sharply. “Really? Why not?”
I shrug. “You tell me.”
He pats me hard on the shoulder, and I glare at him. “I’m an architect, not a psychiatrist.”
“Yes, I’m sure I can go ask a psychiatrist why, after I kidnapped an FBI agent, can I not abduct and off someone else?”
“Then you’d have to kill the psychiatrist to keep your secret, so it might solve your problem.”
“I hate you,” I say plainly, then down my drink.
“Never.” A bright smile stretches his face. “Now, come on. I need to go make sure no one has picked up my wife. If they have, you can kill them.” He grins like he just had the best idea. “See? I’m giving you all kinds of solutions.”
“You could do some killing yourself, you know.”
Jacob shakes his head. “Nope. I told you before, I don’t like the mess.”
Yeah, I know that well.
When I killed our father, it took a lot of convincing for Jacob to help me dismember his body and bag him up. The only thing that got through to him was telling him that if we didn’t get rid of him, we would end up in prison, where showers weren’t easy to come by. That lit a fire under his ass, and he was more eager to get the job done than I was.
“One more thing,” Jacob says before we step inside. I raise an eyebrow. “You might want to let your toy see the sun at some point. He’s whiter than fucking Casper. Totally different from the tan hottie that was on TV.”
I growl at Jacob, and he cackles, hurrying through the door before I can cuff him on the back of the head.
Before I follow him, I pull out my phone and watch Lane, who is still raging, though he seems to be running out of steam. Hedoeslook extra pale. I like how he looks, but he’s not the man I took just five weeks ago.
Jacob may be on to something. I’ll think about it while I’m at this boring event.
It’ll help me effectively ignore Helen and her desperate touches.
Hell, if she annoys me enough, I might end up strangling her before the night is over.
Helen got lucky.After we came back into the room, she was less touchy than before, more focused on networking than flirting, so I didn’t need to end her.
But it was a close call.
Though I want to go back home to make sure Lane eats, I still haven’t solved the dilemma of how to pull myself from my kill slump or how to get Lane some sunlight without him bolting.
For the latter issue, I could take him outside when I’m home, cuff him to my wrist so he can’t run. Then again, I don’t always have short days at work. Some days, surgeries run long, or I’ll get called into the emergency room last minute to repair the face of a dumbass who wanted to be a daredevil. He won’t get any sun if I leave at the crack of dawn and come home when the streetlights are on.
Would he like to be out in the fresh air? Five weeks in a cell is a long time not to see the sun, not to feel the wind on your face or the smell of nature burrowing into your sinuses.
Fuck, I hate that my brother is right.
I’m still pissed at Lane, though. He needs to learn not to ask me stupid fucking questions, so instead of heading straight home, I pull into my favorite grocery store to shop, just so I can kill another half an hour. It’s close to midnight, but the store is twenty-four-hour. As I usually do, I park in the back of the lot where the lights are low and cameras are nonexistent.
As I push my cart down the aisles, I notice everything I tossed inside is high in protein for Lane. I even add in some chocolate—something I stay away from—just in case he has a sweet tooth but hasn’t been able to satisfy the urge in his captivity.
I’m irritated that I’m going out of my way for him. What kind of hold does Lane Bauer have on me? I should just kill him and get it over with. He’s already posed for me. I have what I want from him.
My stomach lurches at the thought.
No, I won’t get rid of Lane. He’s mine. He fucking belongs to me. I broke him, so now I’ll take care of him, building him up to what I want him to be.
That’s an idea. Make the big, strong FBI agent bend to my will, not able to turn me in, and I can kill to my heart’s content.
Yeah, like that will happen.
