The image of herself being bound and utterly controlled flashed in her mind. If she was completely honest with herself, what she and Victor had been doing was a form BDSM. But what he was doing to her couldn’t be so easily labeled. And even though she was allowing him to control her and dictate rules, did that really make her a submissive? She didn’t think so.
When she was finished reading, she ended up with more questions than answers. Still, there had been good tips on how to deal with what she was feeling. Each site she checked stated aftercare was the most important thing that needed to be done, which is precisely what Victor had been doing all along after each of their scenes. He had even shown up in the middle of his and her workday to reassure her that he was present.
He was a good man. Caring. Kind. Conscientious to his lovers. Mr. Black wasn’t influencing his actions. Not last night. Not today. But for how long would that part of himself stay dormant? Not forever. It would be foolish to think that it would. Mr. Black was an ingrained part of his personality. And maybe Victor did need him. With the things he had to deal with at work and the kinds of people whom he was dealing with… Maybe having Mr. Black around wasn’t always a bad thing.
24: Reunion
With loud music blaring through Victor’s car speakers to the tune of Down with the Sickness by Disturbed, he contemplated the decisions he had made over the last decade. And longer. Being a criminal profiler was the perfect articulation for Victor’s intellect and personality. It was something he knew almost immediately after becoming an FBI agent. As he drove to the Virginia State Pen, he tried to recollect what exactly made him choose Criminal Psychology as his major. Finding out who his real father was had played a significant part in his decision, but it wasn’t the only reason he had decided to go into this line of work.
A memory of his mother crept up on him without warning, the words she had spoken so many years ago just as fresh as if she had said them only minutes before.
There’s nothing good in this world and there’s no one worth saving. The sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be.
With vivid clarity, he recalled how those words had made him feel. They were the catalyst that drove him to become a profiler. He was young and hopeful then, and believed that one person could make a difference. He believed that there were people worth saving and he wanted to be the man who saved them. He also wanted to prove his bat-shit-crazy-mother wrong and to make her eat crow.
After Chapter One, he still held onto those beliefs, despite his methods of helping people having taken a drastic turn toward the dark side.
He had spent the last six hours making the connection from Franco to Bruce. He had to give it to the old man, he was smart. His correspondence with Franco had gone undetected because the man had disguised himself as a university student studying psychology. He even had a fake student ID to present when he visited.
How could something that simple have been overlooked? Not only by the authorities at the prison, but by himself? He was livid with himself. People had died and if only he had looked a little closer at all of his visitors, a few lives might have been spared. Luckily for everyone involved, the young detective’s keen eyes had spotted things that seemed out of place. Like the strange women’s keepsakes that were now being linked to each of the victims – a piece of cheap ladies jewelry, a rhinestone embellished hair pin, and the oddest of them – one single woman’s sock.
Now it was just as a matter of presenting the evidence to the right people in order to make their case flawless, but before he did that, he wanted one last meeting with Anthony. One last reunion, if you will, before he severed ties completely. Victor didn’t need him – not his fucked up advice or his input on criminal cases. He would find someone else for that. Killers were a dime a dozen and the only reason he had kept up relations with Anthony was out of some fucked up sense of familial obligation, even if Anthony didn’t know about his paternal connection to him. As far as that went, no one except Elsa need know about his relationship with the old man.
But Anthony was a fighter and an asshole with retribution on his mind. He had lashed out after Victor had threatened him and now seeing him again might trigger some other vengeful action on his part.
Like divulging all his dirty secrets about his Chapters and his less than ethical treatment of them.
Obviously, Victor would deny those allegations if it ever came down to that. Anthony had no proof and all of the notes that had been photocopied had been confiscated and handed back over to him. It would be the word of a lying, piece of shit killer over the word of a respected criminal profiler.
As he sat waiting for Anthony to arrive, his blood began to boil at the thought of what he had put Franco up to. How dare he try to take away the only person who meant anything to him. Surely he knew that Elsa was important to him even if he didn’t know why or how. He had been guiding and dictating his actions since the beginning. He had found a protégé to carry out his murderous acts while he lived a life of stony luxury behind prison walls. Luxury as far as Victor was concerned considering what all his victims had been put through. Anthony thought he was safe there within those four walls and out of reach from any further justice being done to him.
But he was wrong and things were going to change. Victor had associates, too, and he could make Anthony’s life a living hell behind bars. He could make that asshole pay, physically and mentally for what he had done to Elsa. And he would.
Anthony ambled into the room and it took every ounce of inner strength for Victor not to lunge at him and strangle the life out of him. He had insisted that Anthony not be told who was visiting him. Since Franco had been arrested, Anthony was still in the dark that his partner in crime was behind bars, giving Victor the element of surprise.
When he saw Victor, a brief look of upset flashed over his craggy face.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Agent Cocksucker?” he remained standing.
Victor glanced at the guard and gave him a slight nod to which the man pushed Anthony down into the chair in front of him.
“I just wanted to tell you in person that I know what you did and soon, everyone else will know, too. Including that judge you hate so much. I’m sure it won’t take much to persuade him to make things even worse for you in here.”
He waved his hand in dismissal. “You don’t know jack shit. I ain’t done nothin’ and you got no proof…”
“You’re wrong,” he swiftly cut him off. “You should’ve found someone who wasn’t such a dumbass to carry out your wishes, Ant. Someone who could fight harder… Run faster…”
Anthony revealed nothing, his expression remaining unmoved. He was a practiced liar and it shone. Hell, he had been doing it his whole life and nothing was going to change that.
“Do you want me to relay any messages to Franco from you?” Victor leaned back in his chair as he casually threw the name out there.
Anthony's pupils flared under the bright light and the bob of his Adam’s apple were the only signs that his cool exterior was wavering.
“Who’s Franco?” the corner of his mouth lifted in a condescending grin.
“No one,” Victor straightened his tie nonchalantly. “Just some asshole who thought he was smarter than me.”
“It don’t take much to be smarter than you,” Anthony lifted an eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“That might be true, but if he was, he wouldn’t be sitting in jail about ready to face judge and jury for killing all those women.” He pushed his chair back and stood as he glared down at Anthony. His insides were rioting with hatred and self-loathing as he stared into the mirror image of himself. His lack of sleep was taking its toll on him and having to face his father for the last time threatened to put a crack in his composure, but he held strong. “I’ll see what I can do to make sure you two get cells next to each other that way you can discuss the pros and cons of life behind bars. Perhaps you can figure out where you two went wrong in your little plan…” He strolled toward the door. “If you’re lucky, maybe he likes to suck dick. But then again, he seems more like a receiver than a giver…”