He gaped at her. “After everything I've done to you, and knowing what I've done to others... how can you still be so naive? Haven’t I taught you anything? Haven’t you learned anything from our time together?” He stood and sank into the nearby chair, feeling disappointed that nothing had been accomplished with her. With his head leaned back and staring up at the ceiling, he sighed miserably. “You should leave now."
"I don't want to leave."
The tone of her voice was heartbreaking, but he needed distance. Why the hell did he tell her how he really felt about her when it would all come down to this?
"Just go, Elsa.”
"I want to stay with you, Victor. Please let me,” she crawled to him, resting her hands on his thighs.
"God damn it, just go…” he refused to make eye contact, worried he would see the hurt in her eyes that he was causing her. He could feel Mr. Black hovering like a vulture ready to swoop in on his prey. “I don't want to hurt you!" he startled her with his raised voice as he pushed her hands away.
"You promised you wouldn't," her voice cracked.
"And I'm trying to keep that promise." He fisted his hair when he caught a glimpse of her still tear-soaked eyes. "Please, just go."
“Why did you tell me about who your father is if you’re just going to push me away?” she stood and placed her hands on her hips.
Why did she have to be so Goddamn stubborn? Finally meeting her bold gaze, he answered. “Because the man who tried to kill you was no stranger. My father put him up to it.”
***
The gasp that left Elsa’s mouth was louder than she had intended.
“He’s also most likely the copycat killer who’s suspected of murdering at least four women.”
A cold shiver made her body shudder. “Why would he want me dead?” she backed away from Victor.
“As revenge against me. I guess. I don’t know. He’s a sick fuck. My recent meeting with him didn’t go well and I…,” he gulped loudly and shook his head. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have threatened him. I know how men like him react when backed into a corner; like a fucking animal. I suspected he was somehow involved with the killer at large and I just wanted to prove it. But I never thought he would do something like this.” He rose from the chair and pulled her close. “You’re damned lucky to be alive,” his voice cracked over the last word.
“I’m damned lucky you were there to stop him,” she promptly corrected him, feeling the emotions from earlier rising up in her again and threatening to make her break down once again.
“You work in just a few hours,” he led her to the bed. “Try and get some sleep.”
“What about you? You need to rest, too.”
“No, I can’t. I need to get back to the office. I only stopped by to make sure you were safe.”
“So then I can stay?” she asked as he began to tuck her in.
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Yes. Anyway, you’re safer here.”
*
Elsa woke feeling miserable, like she had been punched in the gut. Like her heart had been ripped out and stomped on. She was moody and irritable though she didn’t know why or how to get out of her funk. Victor’s words kept replaying in her mind. All the sweet things he’d said, everything in between, and even the harsh ones kept floating through her head. She was remembering the way her body responded to him each time he’d made love to her and every time he had fucked her. The smoky images of the night before were on the edge of recall but were blurred out by the knowledge that a serial killer had attacked her. Still on her mind was the way Victor had taken her the night before and the incredible high she felt, followed by the powerful low; the low that was still lingering.
The rest of her afternoon passed slowly. One moment she felt fine. The next she felt more unhappy than before.
As she sat at her desk staring at her unfinished work project, she vaguely heard the door open. Victor’s hands descended on her shoulders, kneading her tight muscles. She closed her eyes, hoping it wasn’t a dream. She leaned her head back and opened her eyes, staring up at him as he stood above her. His beard was overgrown, his clothing wrinkled, and his beautiful, tortured eyes, tired.
“You look so tired, Victor. Why don’t rest on the couch in the lounge?” she touched the top of his hand as he continued to work her shoulders.
“I wish I could. I don’t have time. Things at work are going down fast. The media will be all over this soon. You should prepare yourself. You’re name is going to be out there are as the one who survived.”
Elsa’s stomach cramped. She hadn’t even told her family about the assault. “But what about you? Won’t people ask questions about why he targeted someone you’re involved with?”
He sighed miserably. “I can’t think about that. I just need to get all the evidence lined up and ready so we can make an arrest. As for Bruce…” his eyes darkened with hatred. “I’ll be paying him a visit later today. I won’t be home until late.” He stepped back and brought something out of his coat pocket and laid it on her desk. “This is for you.”
She knew immediately what it was. “Don’t I need a permit to handle a taser gun?” she blinked in astonishment of his odd gift.
“Yes. You have one,” he nipped the back of her neck.
“But how…”
He spun her chair around and silenced her with a kiss. “Don’t ask.”
He promptly stood her up and gave her a quick tutorial on its use. His body behind hers, his hands on her, his smell and his calm voice all around her did nothing for the depression she was feeling. When she sunk back into her chair, concern shone on Victor’s face.
“What you’re feeling is normal…”
What the hell did he know about how she was feeling? She couldn’t even explain it herself. She was anything but normal and she just wished he would stop saying that.
He grabbed a pen lying on her desk and wrote something down on a piece of note paper. “Look this term up on the internet later. It’ll help you understand what it is you’re feeling and how to cope with it. I’ll check in on you every few hours. I wish I could help more…” his eyes roamed over her face. “Stay with you, but I just can’t. Call your family. Prepare them for the media blitz the best you can.” He strode to the door slowly as if not wanting to leave. He hesitated as his hand touched the doorknob. “I’m sorry that you have to go through this because of me…”
Elsa rushed to him and wrapped her hands around his waist as she pressed her face against his chest. She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault; that Anthony and that horrible man were the only ones to blame, but she knew her words would fall on deaf ears. Victor had been blaming himself for everything wrong in his life for so long, her words wouldn’t make any difference. Instead, she held him, hoping that her actions would speak louder than the words she couldn’t find the courage to say.
His arms hung limply by his sides, reminding her of Nate’s indifference and only making her feel worse. Would she never find a lover who could give her the simple affection that she craved? She held him tighter, not wanting to let go, hoping that his warmth would take away the chill that had settled in her bones. Slowly, his arms came out and pressed her closer to him. She felt his lips against her hair as he kissed the top of her head, and then he was gone.
Back at her desk, she eyed the piece of paper he had scribbled onto. Sub drop. She had no idea what she was reading or what it meant, but quickly did as Victor had instructed and did an internet search.
She was astounded at the all the information that popped up about the term she had never heard of. As she read in detail exactly what she was feeling and why, her mind whirled with new revelations. She wasn’t into BDSM. She wasn’t a submissive. She wasn’t an athlete. So why was she experiencing this?