“Because I hate people?” Except her.
“You don’t hate people,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You like people so much, you keep the worst sorts alive in your dungeon so you can talk to them about coding.”
“That is not the sort of torture they endure, and it’s not the reason I imprison them.”
“Right, you protect children, too. Very people hating.” She rolls her eyes, and it’s difficult to deny that she has a point there. “And cook your prisoners delicious Russian food.”
“That’s only you.” Tess is special.
“I appreciate it. You’re certain you don’t do this to talk to someone who can’t get away?”
“No. I keep them because they deserve to suffer.” And because I fear I would be as bad as they are, if I didn’t have an outlet. And killing child molesters is an excellent outlet.
“Why did you start this hobby? Was there…?”
“If you’re expecting a tragic backstory, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. I was just a very nerdy teenager who spent a lot of time exploring the internet, including the dark web.” I chew the steak and don’t meet her eyes. “I was mainly searching for hints on how to break through firewalls so I could steal money, but obviously there’s other content available. I didn’t like it, I avoided it. But it never occurred to me to do anything about it until one day I stumbled into…” I trail off. I don’t describe it. I don’t even want to think of it. I swallow. “The violation of that tiny child at the direction of a man thousands of miles away purchasing his sick entertainment made me angry.” That’s a tepid word compared to the boiling fury that erupted in me, unexpected and hotter than the core of the earth. “I’d just had a successful hack and stolen what was for me a lot at the time. About twenty thousand pounds. I used it to track down the man.”
“And then?” Her blue eyes are calm seas. No judgement.
“I’d always known I had a bad part of me, but I’d tried to keep it down. Hidden. Repressed. And when I saw him, it wasn’t enough to steal his money or make him beg for forgiveness and repent his ways.”
She nods, and for the first time, I wonder if this could really work. Maybe Tess could accept who I am.
“My first kill was one of the fastest. It gave me a taste for it. The whole process of hunting, capturing, toying with and eventually ending these men was a greater sense of achievement than merely stealing their money. So I continued.”
I expect her to be outraged or disgusted, but she tilts her head to the side as though she’s thinking.
“In my psychology degree, we learned about personality disorders that make being a criminal more likely. Things like lack of remorse, guilt, empathy.”
“Mm.” Like me.
Except, I care about Tess. I really, really care about her. I feel bad that I’ve kidnapped her.
Just not quite bad enough to let her go.
“Is that part of how you find them? Because they have those traits?”
That’s not what I expected. “No, but go on.”
And she begins to explain the theories she’s learned, and keeps asking me about how I work. Before I know it, she has me telling her about different sorts of coding loops and how I use computer algorithms.
And her eyes are sparkling. She’s having fun. I might not be great with people, but she seems to take in her stride every part of me that others find objectionable.
Dinner is finished as we pick at it for hours. I didn’t make dessert, but I give her free rein on the freezer that’s full of ice-cream and we squabble over the best flavours. She offers me some of hers from her spoon, and I lean over the table to take it and she looks me in the eyes the whole time. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say she enjoyed herself.
We say good night at her bedroom door, and I warn her that she can’t escape. Then I check on her activity on her phone as I lie in bed in the room across the corridor from her.
She’s in my blood. Being separated from her feels very wrong, as though she’s part of me, rather than a woman I only met yesterday.
I miss her. The taste of her. The feel. The way my heart expands in my chest.
I want more of that.
Yeah, my cock is throbbing and desperate. But unusual as that is, it’s nothing compared toemotion. For the first time in my life, I care about someone else. I want her to be happy, and not only that, her happiness affects me.
“My door was unlocked,” she justifies as soon as she walks into the kitchen.
I look up from my coffee and answering the slightly panicked questions from my second-in-command about where I am and what he should do. There’s been a dispute over territory in a neighbouring part of London, and he’s used to me being in the basement of the Blackfen headquarters after one of my hits. Not away in the countryside, in a house I rarely visit.
