“Do you live with your family? Friends?” I asked, not giving the wallet or phone back.
“I rent a room in the city,” he supplies. “But I’ve only been there a few weeks.”
Does he realize he’s giving me the information I need to kill him without anyone noticing? I am starting to think he lied about his CIA training.
My assistant’s texts buzz repeatedly and I pull out my phone to find a string of them.
Di
A witness?!
Ethan Miller comes from money but seems to be working as a sous chef.
He’s cut off financially and has no close family or friends.
I checked the cameras, deleted them. I’ll pay off the TSA workers and flight staff to pretend he’s not there.
Sending a quick thank you, I look up to see we’re arriving at the airport. Di works fast, and we get through security with a ticket for Ethan that doesn’t match, but it gets him in the door.
My only plan is to get him alone so I can interrogate the man, beyond that I’ll be flying by the seat of my pants.
Chapter three
Ethan
“Doyouownthis?”I ask, in a state of shock after we get through security and are making our way up the steps to the eighty-foot luxury jet. My dad has a bigger private plane, but I don’t think a TV show host makes enough to buy one.
“No, it’s chartered,” OwenFrickingMacKenzie answers gruffly. He’s not happy to have me tagging along, and I’m trying not to freak out at realizing who, and what, he is.
More than a celebrity, he’s a serial killer. I’ve watched his show and he often talks about the Fat Cat Killer with a straight face. Sure, he discusses whether the killer is seeking vigilante justice—if killing bad men deserve the same punishment as innocents—but I never suspected it was himdoing the killing. I remember a moment where he speculated that there was no Fat Cat Killer, only rich men overdosing, and vow not to take any drugs offered to me.
I don’t want to die.
“Don’t speak to the staff,” he says in a commanding tone I can’t help but get hard from. Yeah, I have Daddy issues.
What was that word I found the other day? The one I used a private search-engine page for when I got turned on listening to a crime podcast.Hybristophilia: an attraction to criminals, especially serial killers.
Do I have that?
My mind reels as we buckle in for take-off. Besides the two pilots, there is only one person on staff, and the flight attendant skips the safety speech when MacKenzie slips him a couple hundred crisp bills.
After hurtling into the air, the captain announces seat belts can come off. Owen is up and unbuckling me before I have a chance to. He grabs my wrist in his large hand and drags me to the polished wooden door behind the seating area, opening it to reveal a bedroom.
My dick is very confused to be manhandled onto the bed and it’s crisp white comforter, and I decide I just have a fear boner. “What are you going to do with me? Are you going to kill me?” My questions have me trembling, and my erection deflates a little.
MacKenzie opens his jacket and loosens his tie, which he removes as he comes closer. He grabs me again to loop the expensive silk around my wrists, pinning my hands above my head and wrapping the material around the lamp affixed to the wall.
“I don’t know,” he mumbles under his breath as if he doesn’t mean for me to hear. As my abductor lifts his head, though, all traces of hesitancy are gone. The grey eyes staring back at me are no longer the charming gaze of a friendly talk show host. “Don’t move, or I might have to.”
If kidnapping me isn’t already a giant red flag that Owen MacKenzie is the Fat Cat Killer, I no longer have any doubts.
“O-okay,” I nod and bite my lip to keep it from quivering. Deciding talking isn’t in my best interest, I refrain from asking more questions.
Stepping back, MacKenzie loses his suit jacket and rolls his sleeves to reveal fit arms with a dusting of hair. “Who do you work for?”
His barked question pulls me back into the present and I feel my face scrunch up. “I was working a temp sous chef job tonight, but now I won’t get paid or asked back.”
MacKenzie growls to himself and leans over me, wrapping a hand around my neck. My dick takes notice again, and I am sure there is something very wrong with me. But then, I already knew that.