I turn on my heel and stride away from Sebastian and the bodies, uncaring what happens to any of them.
Answering the phone, I pull out my best acting skills. “Madeline? Oh, you’re a saint with the best timing. I could really use a friend right now…”
If nothing else, at least one part of my plan is still going as it’s supposed to…
Islip inside the apartment and let my fingers trail over the happy photos on the mantle. It’s all fake, but I doubt anyone would recognize that—aside from me. I know most of the photos came with the frames. The person who lives here doesn’t have the capacity to form the strong bonds he’s proudly showing off. Nice attempt though.
Strolling into the kitchen, I glance around, but don’t see anything interesting. Shrugging, I decide I might as well be kind and make him dinner while I wait. Opening the refrigerator door, I sigh in disappointment. Really? Who the hell survives on prepackaged meals and shakes? Hell, there’s not even anything good to drink. Muttering, I go through cupboards, but they’re mostly empty.
“Fuck. There’s not even any chocolate. Maybeheshould be seeing someone…”
“And maybe you should explain how you got into my house.” A deep voice pulls my attention away from the kitchen of my nightmares.
Whirling around, I paste an innocent look on my face, only to drop it when he gives me an unamused stare. Shrugging, I reply, “I’m good at getting into places where I’m not supposed to be. I also have an insatiable curiosity.”
“And you’re still alive?”
I laugh, admiring the flat response. I wonder if he has as many kills as I do. I’m beginning to suspect that’s why he’s so popular at fixing toxic relationships.
“Anyway, I’m Dr. Javi Graves. It’s very much a pleasure to meet you.” I stroll forward, offering him my hand.
He flicks his gaze toward it, and following a grimace, he gives me the shortest handshake possible. “Well, what can I do for you, since you’ve opted for such a unique way to reach out to me?”
He sits down at the kitchen table, still showing no alarm. I want to pry his mind open, but I remind myself that he’s not a test subject—sadly. I drop down across from him, slowly reaching into my pocket for my phone. He watches me closely, his lips tightening as I move. His body seems to be on the edge of an explosion, yet he keeps himself perfectly contained. It’s impressive.
Once my phone is out, I pull up a video that Leandro was kind enough to send me. It shows an interaction between Cristian and Roman. I’d feel bad about going down this route, but it’s the only thing I can think of trying at this point. The man doesn’t seem to have any weaknesses—aside from a psychopath’s insatiable need to tear things apart.
Pressing play, I slide it over to him and let him watch the interaction. There’s finally a flicker of emotion. Interest. Exactlywhat I need to see from him. Once the video ends, he doesn’t move. Instead, he cocks his head, examining me closely.
Two psychopaths, and possibly two serial killers, having a staredown. I let the monster rise to the surface, so he can see what I carefully keep hidden. When he nods in understanding, I smile. Damn, this is the most fun I’ve had in a while.
“Now that you know what you need to about me…I want to explain?—”
“I don’t require an explanation. You’re jumping etiquette because you feel these two are somehow more important than the subjects I already serve.”
“I’m glad we agree on terminology!” I bounce on the seat, thrilled that someone finally gets it. “However, I actually need more than that. You see…the father, he tried to kill one of his son’s lovers. That’s on top of all the other fucked up issues they have.
“Now, in addition to that, I have a found family that was led by someone who they referred to as Master, but from what I can tell, most thought of him as a father figure. Even while engaging in sex.
“And then, of course, there’s the really fun polyamorous relationships. And a child who was kidnapped, so that family dynamic could probably use some help. Did I mention, almost all of them are kinky fuckers? And not exactly the safe type. Hmm… Oh, and they defy the statistics for antisocial personality types. You’d fit right in with us.”
His jaw drops, and I’m pleased to see that I actually managed to shock him. “And you want me to deal with…all of that?”
“Well, to be fair, only the family relationship shit. We have individual therapists, a couple’s therapist, we’re in the process of finding a child’s therapist, and, hmmm…oh, a sex therapist! So, there’s quite a team to work alongside, since we don’t want anyone to burn out.
“In addition, since your subjects are a bit, hmm…unruly, you’ll be provided with a bodyguard. The pay is fantastic, but let’s be honest, just between the two of us. The opportunity to get into these types of heads? To see what makes them tick? That’s the real draw.
“They will be the most challenging cases you’ll ever have. And sure, you’ll make a difference, but more importantly, you’ll be accepted as you are. Uh, we do ask that you don’t actually kill any of your subjects, but I can happily help provide other options.”
He scrunches his nose at that. “I won’t make any promises. Some subjects require termination. However, you’re right. That is far more interesting than anything I’ve dealt with before, and truthfully, I was getting bored having to pretend every day.”
“I know! It’s exhausting, right? It’s much better to be amongst people who will accept you. So, are you interested?”
Shrugging, he says, “I need more information.”
I struggle not to roll my eyes, but I reach into my pocket, cautiously, and pull out a folded piece of paper, before tossing it toward him. He takes it gingerly, unfolds it, and reads the exact specifications. Pay, live on-site, food provided—which he should jump at for that reason alone—and the ability to still provide some level of care to his current patients virtually, as long as he understands that our subjects come first.
“I want more.”
