Out of all of Tobias’s patients, he’d been the only one to get to him, to crawl under his skin. It was Allen’s eagerness to talk about his maladaptive behaviors. At first, he was just like any other patient, but it became clear Allen had boundary issues. It started with the snow globes. They would arrive on the same day each year, a sign Allen had slipped, had killed again. Approximately a week after each kill, Allen’s name would appear on his schedule. They’d deconstruct what triggered his compulsion to kill. Tobias realized far too late that, at some point, Allen had stopped seeing Tobias as a therapist and started seeing him as a co-conspirator. And that was when Tobias had turned him in to the police.
He sighed. This couldn’t have happened at a more inconvenient time. If Clyde had waited at least another day, Soren would be there to look after Mantis until Tobias found a way out of his current situation. Instead, she’d be all alone, without food, without her walks. Tobias shoved the knife of panic back. He needed to keep a clear head. Clyde was dangerous. Stupid but dangerous.
As his vision cleared and the room took shape before him, he realized the reason his chair felt familiar. He was in his office. No. That wasn’t right. Not his office. His desk chair had been destroyed in the break-in. He’d only ordered the replacement hours ago. Had only a few hours passed? There was no way to know.
The place looked like his office, right down to the bland framed photos and the tiny Buddha on his desk. It was an almost perfect replica.Almost.The dimensions were off, the walls a little too short and wide to be Tobias’s office. A rectangle where there should be a square. It was like a dizzying optical illusion—his office through a funhouse mirror. This didn’t bode well for Tobias. It appeared Allen didn’t plan on letting him go any time soon. Given their history, Allen was willing to go off script with his victim type if it meant getting his revenge. Tobias didn’t look forward to being on the other side of Allen’s blade.
“What do you think, Doc? You have to admit, it’s not bad, right?”
Tobias hadn’t even noticed him at first. He stood at the far right corner of the office, so still he had blended with the decor. That was truly Allen’s talent, blending in; a stillness that made him disappear against the backdrop of the world. Despite his penchant for evil, Allen was an unassuming man. That was how he managed to lure his victims in.He appeared demure, almost timid. Average height, slight build, balding on top, wire-rimmed glasses that hid watery blue eyes. People never saw what he was until it was too late.
“You have an amazing attention to detail,” Tobias said, his gaze landing on the object on the shelf beside Allen. His father’s antique clock. That wasn’t a replica. It was ancient. Heavy in its construction. A family heirloom. Impossible to replace. The man grinned, picking up the clock much like Soren had that first day.
“You didn’t even notice I’d taken it, huh? Too distracted by the chaos of the office.”
He hadn’t. He’d been…preoccupied since Soren arrived. The man was distracting in the best possible ways.
Allen was clearly quite pleased with himself. Always had been, really. His ego was three times the size of the man himself. It was what had truly set Tobias’s teeth on edge after their sessions started. Most of his clients liked to relive their crimes; they were proud of the misery they created. But that hadn’t been enough for Allen. Telling Tobias after the fact wasn’t enough for him. He’d started taping his kills, wanted Tobias to relive the horror in real time. Had threatened to send the videos to the victims’ families if Tobias didn’t indulge in his private horror movies with him.
“No. You were always good at fuzzing the radar,” Tobias murmured.
“You thought I was still in prison, huh?” It wasn’t a question. He smiled, revealing metal caps on his incisors. “I bet you about shit yourself when you saw that snow globe.”
Tobias didn’t think it would be smart to tell Allen the truth—that he’d only given the snow globe a passing glance. For all Allen’s faults, Tobias had never considered him a danger, at least not to him. Convicting Allen had been easy, even without the bodies. With Tobias’s files and the tapes, it had been a slam dunk for the prosecutor who assured Tobias that Allen would be put away for life.
Tobias had lost some clients over the decision—they’d seen him as a traitor to those he counseled—but Allen had violated the terms of their agreement, not Tobias. Turning the man in had actually let his patients know that the rules between them were finite and breaking of said rules would result in immediate consequences. In the end, it had only increased his client base and, therefore, his subject pool. Now, his kill list.
Allen was stupid, evil, and easily manipulated. Tobias just had to frame this in a way that benefited him. He wasn’t about to spend the next three months as one of Allen’s science experiments. He needed all his extremities. “I admit I was surprised. How does one get out of multiple life sentences?”
“Didn’t you hear? My case got overturned on appeal. They’re going to retry me at some point, but they’ll have to do it without me. My mama will probably lose her house on account of her using it as collateral for my bail bondsman, but she’s dead now, so I don’t think she’ll mind.”
How had nobody notified Tobias of Allen’s release? That seems like a gross lapse in judgment or perhaps afuck youfrom the cops who hated what Tobias did for a living.
“I’ve missed you, Doc. Missed this.” He gestured around the room. He’d been spot on about why they were there. Tobias allowed himself a moment to gloat until he noted the gun in his hand. He needed to tread carefully. Allen was definitely devolving.
“So, you’ve recreated my office because you wish to continue our therapy sessions?” Tobias asked, knowing full well that was only part of it.
Allen rolled his eyes, flopping down in the seat across from Tobias. “Not exactly.”
“Well, this seems like a lot of trouble to go to just to put a bullet in my head.”
“That’s the thing about it, Doc. I would never disrespect you with just a single bullet. You deserve better. The full Clyde Lee Allen experience,” he said, splaying his hands like he was envisioning it in lights.
Tobias shifted in his seat. “Clyde, you clearly need our sessions. I’ll happily counsel you for as long as you need, but threats don’t work on me.”
“You think I won’t do it?” Allen asked, his easy-going demeanor disappearing in an instant.
Tobias sighed. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll do it. But surely, by now, you’ve realized why I can do the things I do, listen to the things I do. I lack the capacity for fear.”
“Oh, believe me, I know exactly what you are,” Allen spat.
Tobias’s brow fishhooked upward. “What’s that?”
“A goddamn hypocrite.”
Tobias frowned. Somehow, that wasn’t the answer he was expecting. “No, Clyde. I’m not a hypocrite. I’m a psychopath. Well, potentially a high-functioning sociopath, but the jury is still out on that. Regardless, I never lied to you.”
“You turned me in for murder. You gave confidential information to the police about me after you assured me I could talk about anything.”
