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Ryden tilted his head. “Would you like to see that again?”
“Yes. That night, I was captivated, obsessed. It was something so rare, so precious. To catch you like that. Free, in the moment, completely fascinating.”
He hummed, leaning back, his eyes studying me like I was a puzzle he still couldn’t solve, but he did; he was the only one who did. “What else do you want?”
“I want more of this,” I said, motioning between us. “I mean, not the kill, but this. You and me. Us.”
Ryden’s gaze lingered, and for a moment, the silence was louder than the words as he parked the car in front of the building where he killed Phil.
This time, I helped him carry Mason up. This time, I was not on the other side, watching, wishing. This time, my wishes came true.
We tied Mason to a beam. Ryden slapped Mason’s cheek, waking him up. Mason blubbered and cried, his whimper unanswered.
“No one would come for your rescue,” Ryden said with a sigh. “You… you shouldn’t have come to Detroit.”
“I-I’ll go back.” Mason’s voice was a mewl.
“Well, too late for that, isn’t it?” Ryden grabbed two knives and handed one to me with a smile. “After you, Little Killer.”
There was no story this time, so I didn’t play safe. I wasn’t careful; I wasn’t looking to be effective when I plunged the knife into Mason’s side. A pained scream escaped him as blood gushed out, the sound so familiar, so peaceful.
I turned to Ryden.
“What did you plan for Phil? You know, before I interrupted you? TAK always left a prize to the cops.”
“I was thinking of cutting Phil’s tongue off and then putting it on his severed palm.”
I laughed. Mason struggled against the rope.
“You little bitch.” More curses. “Please, I’m sorry. Please.” More pleading. “You’ll be sorry.” More threats.
“Why don’t you do something about all the noise he’s making, darling?”
“You mean…”
“Cut his fucking tongue off, Ryden,” I said, tapping the knife against Mason’s cheek.
Ryden adjusted his gloves.
“He might bite me.”
“He won’t. You won’t, right?” I looked at Mason, and he gave me a jerky nod. “See, he won’t. If he did, I’d pull off all his teeth, one by one.”
Ryden shuddered, dark gray eyes fixated on my lips.
“What are you staring at, Turtle Mocha?”
“Will you ever want to marry me?” he asked.
Is this seriously happening right now?
You just promised to torture a man, and he’s thinking, wife material?
“What the fuck? No.” I winced. “What do you even—”
“Thought so.” His voice was entirely unbothered.
I blinked, perplexed.
