Page 17 of Muerte

“I’ll find my way to her before then,” he replied, adding, “And then you and I are going to talk about how you’re doing with everything.”

I accepted that without complaint.

My father had such a relationship with me and my siblings that discussing our mental health had always been a positive thing. He knew it was important for our heads to be clear.

We spoke about a few trivial matters as I finished my drink. Occasionally I pulled up the camera feed, always seeing Lolita in the same exact spot, sometimes in a different position. I didn’t like the forlorn expression that came and went from her face.

I needed to go to her.

“Are you staying longer?”

“Yes. I’m waiting on a call and need to finish a few things.”

I rose from my seat and began to gather my things. “I’m going to head back to the manor.”

He remained seated, watching me closely. “It’s nice to see you getting what you’ve always deserved.”

“My only regret is that it didn’t happen sooner,” I replied, exiting his office.

CHAPTER SIX

It was a quarter past ten when I finally walked through my front door. All the lights were off except for a few metal sconces that lined the wall. I made my way to the kitchen and sat my bag on the counter, fixing myself another drink before going to the guest room.

Lolita didn’t startle when I opened the door. That was a good sign. I knew from watching the cameras earlier that after exploring as far as her restraint allowed, she simply sat on the bed facing the wall with the covered windows, that forlorn look coming and going.

I wouldn’t be surprised if she were planning an elaborate escape that wouldn’t happen. I’d never let her leave me, not while her heart was still beating. Not even when it stopped. She turned my way with a wariness she tried and failed to hide.

I carried my drink to the small chest across the room, taking note of everything. Her dress was a bit wrinkled, but aside from that, she looked just as beautiful as she had the night before. I felt her eyes on me as I moved. There wasn’t so much fear as there was apprehension. Given the situation, it was a reasonable response. She needn’t feel either, though.

Not tonight.

I had no intentions of making a mess of this beautiful woman until I could pin her beneath me, bending her body to my will. I dreamt of the day she would bleed and scream for me in mindless ecstasy.

Knowing I wouldn’t have to imagine it anymore…

Fuck.

I took a generous sip of liquor and reigned myself in. I would not—could not—have her until after the first Rite was done. I took a seat in the wing-backed armchair angled towards the bed, not bothering with loose words of comfort despite my honorable intentions.

“Did our servitor attend you well?”

“Is that the woman who came in here?”

“More or less.”

She wet her lips and adjusted her position on the bed, a sign she was beginning to feel uncomfortable again. “A few lessons in hospitality couldn’t hurt.”

There was a dry sarcasm in her tone I didn’t expect. I took another sip of my Balvenie to suppress a pleased grin. “What did she say to you?”

“Nothing I understood.”

“Then she said too much.”

“None of it was helpful to me,” she doubled down.

“So unhelpful you couldn’t find the will to eat?”

She glanced at the untouched bowl of soup and then looked away, her expression becoming shuttered. “I wasn’t hungry.”

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