“Being in the Navy taught me two things…”
Nathan’s voice reminded Victor of a scratchy, broken record, repeating the same shit over and over. Jesus Christ. All this man ever did was talk about himself. His eyes scanned the length of Nathan – all six feet, two inches of him. This was the narcissistic asshole that Elsa was sharing a bed with? The worthless, waste of space who was fucking her and whom she had agreed to spend the rest of her life with?
He blinked long and hard. The mental image of Nathan’s face between her legs flashed behind his lids causing him to clench his fists until his knuckles blanched. Suddenly, he was faced with an overwhelming urge to stab something blunt into his airway just to get him to shut the fuck up.
For a split second, he wondered if this is how his sociopathic father felt while contemplating murdering someone.
His eyes narrowed at the piece of shit standing in front of him as he talked incessantly about nothing except himself. Victor’s eyes roamed over his body yet again, taking in every inch of him. What the hell did she see in him? So what if he had been some big shot pilot in the Navy? So the fuck what if he was attractive and well-built? All that should’ve happened was that she had a brief fling with him and moved on.
What a hot, Goddamn mess. How the hell did he let things get so out of his control? His only intention had been to give Elsa some comfort, not for her to end up marrying this pussy who felt the need to apologize for her rash yet enticingly punish-worthy behavior. There was no way in hell this man could be satisfying her on any level.
With Elsa now out of sight, every ounce of sociability and tolerance vanished, and he just wanted to get the fuck out of there to plan his next move. He had made his point and let her know that he was still in her life. Now he just needed to remind her that unless she agreed to his new proposition, he always would be.
2: Ultimatum
The hands on the clock seemed to be at a standstill as Victor lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and going over everything that had happened in the last two days since barging in on Elsa’s engagement party. Having drawn up a new set of rules, some of which were old rules from before, he felt confident enough to approach her and lay things out for her – plain and simple: play his game and suffer his wrath for having walked out on him or deny him and face his fury. Either way, she was going to play. That he would make undeniably clear.
A wicked smile worked its way onto his mouth. It couldn’t be helped. He had been dreaming of pleasing and torturing her mentally and physically since the day she left, never knowing when it would actually happen. Now, here he was on the eve of getting ready to inform her that he was going to have her again, with or without her permission, and he felt as giddy as he did the night he lost his virginity.
Elsa was robbing him of his virginity in the sense that he had never had the same chapter twice. There had never been a need or a desire for it. But then again, no woman had ever quit just when things were getting interesting either.
Interesting.
Rolling onto his side and fluffing his pillow, he contemplated the word. Was what happened between them so easily labeled? No. It wasn’t. What transpired between them was so much more than simply interesting. It had been absorbing, fucked up and life changing; for the both of them. Often during the eighteen months away from her, he wondered if he had to do it all over again, knowing the outcome, would he ask her to play his game? Would he take the same drastic measures as he did before? Would he let her read about his encounter with Chapter One and beat her the way he had?
There were some things he would definitely change – like the way he punished her in the end; he would erase that part and do it differently, but the rest of it? Maybe he would change it. Then again, maybe not. The way things played out had led them to learn so much about each other…
He punched at his pillow again and cut his thought short. There was no point in ruminating on what was done, yet here he was, fucking dwelling. His experience with Elsa had truly been mind altering, just as it had been with Chapter One, though for entirely different reasons and there really was no comparison. Still, neither experience was entirely good and neither of them completely bad, but both were utterly etched in his memory forever.
Even his work had been affected with both encounters - with One, negatively; with Eight, positively. In his effort to put Elsa out of his mind, he had concentrated on his work with such intensity; he had solved two cold cases during their time apart. It was a feat not only he, but his coworkers, were astounded by.
As if having to deal with the news of Elsa’s engagement wasn’t enough to deal with mentally, there was a copycat killer at large and public pressure was building to catch the murderer. This latest case was not only eating up his time, but taking its toll on his psyche, and was one for the criminal annals. The killer was emulating none other than Anthony Bruce, bringing the sociopath back into the spotlight and into his life yet again.
It was as if fate had intervened by giving him a reason to seek Elsa out to give him a distraction from work once more. Strangely, it seemed dark divine providence always had a hand in bringing them together; like their destinies were inexplicably linked. Was it coincidence or truly paranormal? He always knew he would reunite with her someday, but for it to come about right at the time of his greatest need seemed almost too perfect to write off as happenstance.
Although the timing may have been perfect, the reason was anything but.
Nathan’s face flickered behind Victor’s closed eyes and an irritated sigh slipped past his lips. Realizing that sleep was out of his reach, he turned on his beside lamp and reached for his journal.
Going against my own set of rules, I put aside monitoring you for the last forty-eight hours so that I could plan my attack. As it happens, you have me figured out and know my usual mode of operation and would most likely have been expecting to see me outside your window or following you. For this reason, I’m changing things up and I WILL NOT be so predictable this time. This round of the game, I’m going to make you work for my trust the way I had to work for yours. Just because you know more about me than anyone else, don’t, for one second, think that you have the upper hand. Remember, Peach, I also know all of your little perversions and secrets, and I have every intention of using all of that knowledge to my advantage.
As I sit here listening to the sound of the wind outside, I’m reminded of how you blew into my life like a deceptively gentle sea breeze only to wreak havoc on my life, turning it into a violent storm of confusion and self-doubt. Your hurricane-like effect forced me to examine myself and my motives – something that has had lasting repercussions on me to this day.
I am not the same man I was when I first met you and I have no doubt, that you are a different woman, as well. Are we better for the experience we shared together or worse for it? I suspect we’re a little of one and a lot of the other. Which one is which depends on the day.
You thought you could help me, but I didn’t need your help and I still don’t. But don’t count yourself a complete failure because you managed to succeed at one thing: you changed me. Just not into the man you were hoping for. That man you created in your fairytale world doesn’t exist nor will he ever. I have neither the time nor patience for such fantasies. Real life is what you get with me, Elsa. Real pleasure. Real consequences for your actions. Real pain for not following my set of rules. It sounds like a slice of heaven doesn’t it? You – under my roof, abiding by my rules and accepting my will? Why the fuck would I want to live in your make-believe world when my version of intimacy and reality is so much better?