Travis
Sage has completely disrupted my schedule for the day. However, I do have to take some accountability for that. If I’d have killed her when I had the chance, this wouldn’t be a problem. Now there’s someone in the world who knows explicit details about some of my kills and can opt to use that against me.
So I have to keep a close eye on her. At least until I get an idea that she’s to be trusted. Right now she seems like she is. She’s less bothered about the fact that I’m a killer than I would have thought. I can’t understand how she’s as calm as she is about it.
I get what she says about her being liable for this now. I’ve brought her into my world, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep my history from her. She’s bound to find out about my kills eventually. She already knows about Cal, and if she has any sense about her, she can easily find a string of other missing people that might connect to me. She knows more than any police officer on the East Coast.
The alarm on my watch rings, and I stand up from the kitchen table, my makeshift office for the time being. My actual office has too much sensitive information for Sage to be trusted in there. I keep that locked at all times, even when it’s just me at home. You can never be too careful when you have skeletons in your closet.
“It’s time to exercise,” I announce. I close my laptop and walk from the dining room table to the living room, where Sage is lying on the couch and scrolling on her phone.
I considered taking her phone away from her as well, but she has too much of a following online for that to be wise. Some of her loyal followers would notice if she stopped posting, and with Eli knowing where she is, that’s a recipe for disaster. I might not be able to monitor what she does online, but I have to trust it’s in my best interest.
“Have fun with that,” she says with a smirk. She settles into the couch more, making it clear she has no interest in joining me.
“I don’t know if I’ve made it clear to you, but I don’t want you out of my sight.” I fold my arms as I stand above her, waiting for her to comply. “You’re coming with me.”
She stares at me and lets out a small exhale before standing up and conceding to follow me to my home gym. I open the door and spot her face in some of the mirrors on the wall, showing just how surprised she is by my setup.
“Isn’t this a little much for a home gym?” She looks around at the machinery like she’s trying to figure out how some of it is used.
“It has everything I need for my regular exercise rotations.”
She takes a seat at the overhead press and tries moving the weight I have preset with no luck. I smirk as she runs and looks around to try to figure out what she’s supposed to do, not realizing she’s just too weak for the amount of weight.
“Maybe you can start on the treadmill, or something better suited for you,” I suggest before making my way to the elliptical. This exercise block is specifically for strength training, but it’s always best to begin a workout with cardiovascular warm-ups.
“I’m not really big on exercising,” Sage says as she takes a seat and watches me. “I don’t mind a show, however.”
I ignore her as I begin my workout, moving up and down on the elliptical until I feel my heart pumping in my chest. All the while, shesits on my rowing machine, sliding back and forth as she holds her chin in her hand and keeps her eyes glued to me.
Even if I couldn’t see her reflection in the mirror, I could still sense every movement of her eyes on me. They burrow into my back, digging their way through me. I don’t understand what she’s looking at. It’s like there’s something specific about me she’s trying to analyze.
“Could I paint one of the rooms?” she suddenly blurts out.
“Paint as in with color other than white?” I question, slightly out of breath from my workout.
“Yes, maybe a Blush Whimsy and Sunset Linen. Or what about ...” I tune out the rest of her ridiculous suggestions, once again regretting not killing her when I had the chance.
When I’m done on the elliptical, I move to the bench press, taking off my sweaty shirt and tossing it aside. This catches her attention even more, and she raises her eyebrows and smirks at me. With every movement of my arms, her gaze follows. I feel it tracing every peak and valley of my muscles.
I’m not used to this. One of the reasons why I have my own gym at home is for privacy, and having someone here, staring at me, is infuriating. Normally, when I exercise, I use this time for mindfulness. It’s important to pay attention to your body and how it reacts while you’re using it. Right now I can’t focus on any of that.
“Isn’t there something else you could be doing?” I snap, sitting up and staring at her. I’m frustrated, and I’m not holding back anymore. “I can’t concentrate on my exercise with you constantly watching me. What’s going on?”
“I was just wondering if any of your victims felt you watching them the way you clearly feel me watching you,” she says. She sits up straighter and doesn’t look away from me. She sees how anger morphs my face, but she doesn’t react.
How could she be so flippant about this? This isn’t a casual situation. I know she might think I’m some callous, cold-blooded murderer—and to an extent, I most definitely am—but I take this seriously. It’s not a joke to me, and her treating it like one pisses me off.
I stand up and bridge the gap between the two of us to stand in front of her, glaring down. “I don’t want to hear you talking about this anymore.”
“Why not? It’s all out in the open. There’s nothing to hide,” Sage replies, standing up to try to meet my gaze.
“It’s not about hiding, it’s about my process. I don’t talk about the things I do. I think about them, I plan them, I study them, but I don’t make jokes!” I clench my fists as my voice rises. My frustration is overwhelming, and the same burning behind my eyes that I always feel when I’m getting close to a kill rears its head. “This is my life. I work hard, and I won’t have you here making light of it.”
She doesn’t have to say anything. I wouldn’t be able to hear her even if she did. The floodgates are open, and the emotions I usually feel as I’m killing spill out of me. I need to do something to get rid of them, but I can’t hurt her.
I grab her by the arm and drag her to the bench press. There’s a flicker of fear in her eyes, and I can practically taste it wafting off her as I bend her over the cold bench.
