Page 23 of Born into Madness
“Well,” I start to say, hoping he’ll just walk off and leave me alone, but when he keeps his fingers around my arm and gives no sign that he’s leaving soon, I say, “They don’t allow pets inside, and you’re wearing a bloody mask, so maybe it’s best if we just go our separate ways.”
“Chort and I are good at getting into places unnoticed. Don’t worry about us. Let’s go.”
Right as we step into the building, he lifts his hood up, pulling it low as he keeps his head down and quickly guides me away from the front desk. Chort is nothing but a flash of black fur as he turns the corner and then waits for us. He leads me past the elevators and to the stairs. I can’t help but wonder if he’s been here before since he’s bypassing all the security cameras.
When we get to the second floor, I stop and say, “My roommate might be here.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing how you explain me to her.”
Ignoring my stunned look, he leads me into the hall and then waits for me to take the lead. My instincts are screaming at me to not show the crazy man where I live, but I’m not sure what else to do. What will he do if I scream? Kill me? Kill everyone on this floor as they run from their rooms to see what’s going on? I have no idea, but I’m not about to put anyone else in danger. He hasn’t hurt me yet. In fact, he did the opposite by giving me my inhaler so I could breathe. He’s right that I haven’t seen his face. There’s no way I could identify him in a lineup. Light-blue eyes and broad shoulders can’t be all that unique. Any half-decent lawyer would have their client back out on the street in minutes with a witness like that.
I stop outside my room, using a less-than-steady hand to unlock the door before stepping in. He follows right behind me, shutting and locking it, I notice, right as Chort jumps on my bed and makes himself comfortable. He ignores Brittney’s side completely and focuses only on mine. Reaching for the box of dog treats on one of my shelves, I grab one and then look at his owner.
“Can I give him one?”
The mask moves as he nods his head. I quickly sit down next to the large Doberman and hand him the treat. He perks up at the sight of it and gently takes it from my hand.
“You’re such a good boy,” I tell him. As freaked out as I am by everything that’s happened, being around a dog is a comforting familiarity that I cling to with everything I have. I pet his soft fur and scratch behind his ears before leaning over and kissing his head. He makes a cute noise and then licks my cheek. I smile and pet him some more. “You’re just a big sweetheart, aren’t you?”
There’s a huff of a laugh from across the room, and when I look over, the mask is staring directly at us.
“What’s so funny?” I ask him.
He shakes his head and goes back to snooping. He looks at Brittney’s big bulletin board that’s filled with photos of her and her cheerleading friends. Lots of beautiful faces, short cheer skirts, and perfect bodies. I expect him to spend several minutes looking things over, but he quickly turns away like it doesn’t interest him. He ignores the rest of her things and makes his way back over to my side of the room.
Running his fingers over my textbooks, he stops when he gets to my beginner’s Russian book. Flipping it open, he thumbs through the pages and then looks over at me. He says hi and asks me how I am in Russian, and I’m so surprised I understand it that I grin before I can stop it.
He repeats it, obviously wanting an answer, but instead I say in English, “Sorry, I don’t know how to sayNot so great. I just saw some crazy guy murder three people in front of me and now he’s standing in my dorm room while wearing a creepy mask and thumbing through my textbooks.”
Without missing a beat, he says a long string of Russian, and I’m pretty sure he’s telling me exactly how to say all of that in the beautiful language that flows so easily from his tongue.
“I’ll have to remember that,” I tell him when he’s finished.
He goes back to snooping. He spends a long time looking at the photos I have tacked to my bulletin board. Most of them are of Sav and me, but there’s also a bunch of me with some of my favorite dogs at the shelter. The dorm room is small, so it’s not long before he’s seen everything there is to see and he’s back to standing in front of me. I keep petting Chort, who’s resting his head in my lap and I’m pretty sure has fallen asleep.
Unable to resist, I ask, “Aren’t you worried about the police finding the bodies? I don’t understand how you can be so calm after killing all three of those guys. Aren’t you scared you’re going to get caught?”
“What bodies?” he asks.
“The bodies of the three guys I just watched you murder,” I say, feeling like I’m losing my mind.
“There aren’t any bodies to find. Are you planning on calling the police, Cynthia Wilde?”
I suck in a breath at the sound of my name. “How do you…” I stop the question before I can finish. Of course he knows my fucking name. He’s just been snooping through my desk. It must be written on at least a dozen pieces of paper over there. I mean, fuck, the paper I just wrote for my English class is sitting right on top.
The large man squats down so we’re eye to eye. His are just as calm as they’d been after stabbing that last guy and just asintense. He reaches out like he’d done earlier and wraps a lock of my hair around his finger.
“It’s almost the exact shade as the dried blood on your cheek.” The words are soft on his lips, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear there was a touch of awe in it. His hand is large, fingers long, and if I hadn’t just seen the way they look squeezing the handle of a knife, I’d say they were beautiful. I can’t forget what I saw, though. It doesn’t make them ugly, but I can’t forget there’s a viciousness to this man, a madness that can’t be ignored or forgotten.
“My little Cyn,” he says, and the nickname pulls me from my thoughts. No one’s ever called me that before.Sin. He makes it sound intimate, deeply personal in a way that shouldn’t be since we just met each other and it was one hell of a fucked-up meeting.
My heart beats so fast I can feel it thumping in my chest when his thumb gently grazes my cheek.
“Are you going to call the cops on me, Cyn?” His eyes study mine, so piercing I can’t look away. “I should warn you it won’t do any good. There won’t be any bodies to find, you’ll never be able to identify me, and I won’t be found on a single security camera on campus. It won’t hurt me if you do, but it will annoy me, and I do know where you live.”
“Is that a threat?”
I hear what has to be a soft laugh behind his mask. “Everything about me is a threat, my Cyn.”
