As she read each Chapter and worked her way to the beginning of where it all started, it was fascinating to see Mr. Black’s lack of experience show itself. Whereas he was confident with his methods and punishment in Chapter Seven, in Chapter Three, he questioned himself and even his motives. He even tended to be more lenient with her than the later Chapters.
Annoyed with Anissa, she skimmed most of her notes. Just about ready to give up and jump to the end, she was jolted when she came upon a riveting and telling paragraph.
Weekend 6:
The morning started as per usual – a fair cock sucking followed by a less than memorable fucking. I find myself becoming bored with you. Your antics are never-ending, your tantrums continue when some perceived wrong has been perpetrated on you or you haven’t gotten your way… Blah, blah, blah. This has all been said before. Why am I keeping you around?
Your overreaction Sunday night put things into perspective for me. When I spoke of our time coming to an end, you hinted at ending your life. Was your threat real? You’ve cried wolf so many times about so many other things, I have no idea. Nor do I care. However, the question lingers in my mind: do I really hold that kind of power over you? It’s a frightening and intoxicating thought.
I can’t help but wonder if this is how my father felt when he did those heinous things – Godly. If I had said the word go , would you have obeyed and slit your wrists? Something deep inside of me wanted to tell you, yes, go ahead, do it , just so I could watch you slowly bleed out. I fully realize that my disturbing thoughts are not to be taken lightly, yet there is no one I can speak with about these feelings. If I admitted any of this, I would be cast out of my job and labeled as psychotic. Or worse, a sociopath. But then, one bad seed breeds another. In my case, I got a double dose of bad.
There had been no mention of Victor’s father anywhere in the information that Nick had found and nothing of him up to this point in his writings. Elsa’s empty stomach gurgled and she suddenly felt nauseous. Had he been abused so badly that morbid and devious thoughts inundated him? Then to work in the field that he chose? Wouldn’t that only make matters worse?
She began to quickly try to rationalize his thoughts, for her own understanding and acceptance. He was a criminal profiler so maybe he was overworked and stressed. Perhaps the nature of his employment had proven to be too much for his psyche to handle after having been abused as a child. If only she could just ask him to clarify things. Hell, she was only guessing that he had been abused. Maybe he hadn’t been.
She looked around her apartment with spots in her vision. Not having eaten all day, staring at the words on the pages and trying to maintain her sanity for hours on end had taken its toll on her. She stood and her back cracked loudly, reminding her that in addition to all of the above, she hadn’t moved other than to relieve her bladder and to change her dressings.
Pacing in front of her window to get circulation back into her legs, she was struck with the idea that there was a chance that Victor had the same disturbing feelings about her. But her Chapter hadn’t been written yet. His thoughts were all in the personal journal he kept near to him at all times. If only she could get a hold of it, but she knew that was an impossibility. She was lucky to have read the small portion she did without being caught.
She was on borrowed time as far as that was concerned and she knew it. When and if Victor ever viewed the video footage, she would pay dearly. But if he ever found out she had his precious document? Elsa became light-headed thinking about it. She didn’t dare think about what kind of hell there would be to pay if that ever became known.
***
The remainder of Friday night for Victor had been spent in the FBI office catching up with emails and work related issues. He crashed on a couch in the lounge area for nearly four hours and woke early Saturday feeling and looking like hell. Elsa’s face intermixed with the ghastly images from the Cambridge murders had filled his thoughts all fucking night. He was tired of the nightmares jerking him out of sleep. As hard as he tried to pretend like the nature of his work and his actions against his Chapters didn’t affect him, the unbearable ache in his chest solidified his ever-growing self-loathing.
Late morning was spent in a sleep-deprived daze having conversations that he couldn’t even recall. He eventually made it home but not until early afternoon. When he walked up the long path, his eyes were bleary from the long drive, but something looked out of place. He stared for several moments and rubbed his eyes, but he was too weary to try and figure it out.
Once inside, he was struck with a faint remnant of Elsa’s scent. Was he losing his mind? He pulled his jacket off and brought it to his nose and immediately felt relieved. Her perfume was still lingering on his clothing.
Finally showered and in clean clothing, he settled in his home away from home – his office. Again, things looked slightly off. He sat perfectly still in the large leather chair, allowing only his eyes to move around the room as he scanned every single document on his desk, every note and sheet of paper. It all looked in order, yet… he just couldn’t put his finger on the thing that was making him feel as if someone had invaded his privacy.
He opened his desk drawers one by one to find nothing missing. Of course there wouldn’t be. If his house had been broken into, his silent alarm would’ve gone off and he would’ve been notified. What the hell was wrong with him?
Opening the bottom drawer, he reached down and touched his case study and the twine tied around it. Something was definitely amiss. Or… he really was losing his fucking mind.
His cell phone rang out, catching him by surprise and he slammed the drawer closed. His heart lurched into his throat when he heard something serious was going down in Cambridge and he needed to get back right away. God, he hoped it was the break they needed.
Quickly, he retrieved his journal and photocopied his notes about Elsa to have couriered to the Virginia Pen. As he placed the precious cargo into a manila envelope, he vacillated. Did he really want to share her with Anthony? He knew the kind of sociopath Ant was and the thoughts that would be going through his head when he read about her. Could he really live with himself knowing that he had given Ant the opportunity to fantasize about fucking and dismembering Elsa like he had all his victims? His mouth set into a deep frown thinking about it.
He had never hesitated before to share the information regarding his Chapters because he knew it could be used as leverage when he needed help with a particular case. But Elsa was different. A pain in the ass, but they all were on some level. She wanted him to see the light at the end of the dark tunnel and even though it was a futile attempt on her part, it was noble nonetheless.
He glanced at his wall clock and wondered what he and Elsa might be doing if he hadn’t cancelled their weekend together. Deep down, he already knew. He would be watching her when she wasn’t looking. He would be taking in every curve and imperfection of her body. He would be studying the delicate laugh lines of her face that spoke of her joy and wondering what memory each line held. Each time he saw her, he found her more attractive than the time before. Her expressions were becoming familiar and easier to read. His favorite: when she was trying to anticipate his next move. The softness of her skin, the ink decorating her flesh, her scent, her soothing feminine voice spoken in barely a whisper… She was femininity in its most perfect form.