At this, I think of Harvey and Doyle.
The gun aimed right at Beckett’s head.
Her cold, cutting voice whispering,“I lied.”
She promised she wouldn’t hurt, rape, or sell my men, but if I disobey her, then she won’t hesitate to do exactly that. I can’t allow that to happen. I won’t.
And that’s how I find myself in a minuscule, nondescript office, watching exotic fish swim around in their tank.
I feel like those fish.
Trapped.
“Hybristophilia. Have you heard of it before?”
Fuck, his voice grates on me, slashing at my skin like the blunt edge of a blade. It isn’t sharp enough to cut, but it leaves behind an uncomfortable, tingling sensation that doesn’t dissipate no matter what I do.
“It’s a disorder where a person will feel romantic or sexual attraction to criminals, particularly serial killers.” He watches me carefully, but if he’s expecting a reaction, he isn’t going to get one. “Sometimes, these people believe they can change the killer. Others believe that it’s romantic to have someone go to the ends of the earth for them—even if that includes murder.”
I stare at him blankly.
He leans forward so he can rest his arms on his thighs, a decidedly casual posture despite the cunning gleam in his eyes.
“Tell me, Ellie… Which category do you fall in? What made you fall in love with five deranged serial killers?”
I match his posture, allowing my mask to slip, for him to see the darkness in my eyes—a darkness that has been brewing steadily over the years, just waiting for an outlet.
“You want to know how I fell in love with a serial killer?” I whisper, my voice a soft caress that actually makes him shiver.
Five serial killers, technically.
But…semantics.
I feel my lips stretch into a macabre grin. Then I answer simply, “I became one too.”
That’s the first and only time I went to see Doc Pete.
Aria never broached the subject of therapy again.
30
LANDON
Aria lives in an apartment three towns over.
The complex consists of three low-rise, tan-colored buildings arranged around a small central courtyard. The paint is a little faded from years of sun, but everything is kept reasonably clean. The landscaping is simple but cared for—patches of grass, a few trimmed shrubs, and a couple of oak trees that offer streaks of shade.
We go in the middle of the day.
If we were to go at night, the neighbors would bust a nut seeing two full-grown men trying to break into Aria’s apartment. During the day, we could pretend to be friends or colleagues. Most people don’t give a damn what their neighbors are up to.
As it is, we don’t run into any residents. They, no doubt, are either at work or school.
Ryker pushes a few buttons on the tablet Raymond gifted us. The scowl on my brother’s face deepens with every second that passes.
“It should…fuck…yes…maybe…if we…” He begins to mutter to himself as the furrow between his eyebrows intensifies.
I wait patiently, trying to bite down on the smirk that threatens to escape.