Page 95 of Mayhem and Minnie

I stood there in shock, not knowing whether to tell her off for contaminating the meat, or lick the blood off her finger and tell her I’ll make it better.

Ludicrous. I know.

In the end, I went with a mix of the two. I chastised her for not paying attention and contaminating my food and my kitchen, while gently holding her finger and dabbing it with disinfectant. Then, of course, I bandaged it up so she wouldn’t contaminate anything else.

It may have taken me the better part of an hour to get it right. I know how to separate body parts, not how to put them together. But eventually, after finishing up an entire box of bandages, I managed to do a decent job.

On the bright side, I got a little taste of her blood, though I doubt she realized it.

Oh, fuck. I sound like a goddamn creep.

But it was there, leaking out of her cut, free for the taking.

What’s a man to do when the opportunity arises right in front of him?

Besides, wasn’t she the one who said blood was hot? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. If she does bring it up at any point, I’ll tell her it’s rent.

I smile to myself at that particular memory. Though I always avoid contact with bodily fluids, the redness of her blood had been quite a hypnotizing sight. A dark red bordering on burgundy, it had been unlike anything I’ve ever seen. And God, had it been sweet.

I’m almost ashamed to admit how sweet and potent it had been.

For someone who’s never had a vice before—bar murder and compulsive cleaning—this looked very much like the beginning of a dangerous addiction.

I don’t know how I wrenched myself away from her long enough to fumble with the bandage, or how she didn’t notice the way my attention was clearly somewhere else. But in the end, I managed to disguise my growing desire with another rude comment—my M.O. at this point—which of course, she didn’t appreciate.

I expected at least some thank you. Perhaps another kiss on the cheek, not that I enjoyed the first one that much. But it should be common sense, no? I patched her up. I deserve at least something in return.

She only glared at me, muttered something under her breath, then proceeded to ignore me while she continued cooking.

Because she’s still mad at me.

That little heathen can certainly hold a grudge.

Things seemed to get better when she spoke to me in the basement, but after that, she went back to ignoring me.

I wonder if she’s worried I might replace her with someone else. She’s been making fewer mistakes in her tasks and it’s obvious she’s been putting more effort into her cleaning. Hell, lately I’ve been nothing short of impressed with her work ethic and the number of hours she dedicates to cleaning everything according to my instructions sheet. And for someone like me, it’s hard to be impressed about anything, let alone cleaning.

Perhaps she was worried I’d sack her. Though I wish it would have been jealousy that prompted her to be so mad about the basement, the more I think about it, the more I’m sure it’s her being worried about her position.

She wants security, I can tell. But surely she’d realize that the best way to get in my good graces is to actually talk to me. Every day, I can count on two hands the amount of words she directs toward me.

Is it any wonder that I’ve resorted to surreptitiously following her around the house? Or that I’ve become glued to my computer screen to see what she’s doing when I’m not around?

I think not.

But by not speaking to me, she’s only making me more intrigued.

Fuck. I’m dying of curiosity.

The computer releases a loud beep, and a list of matches appears on the screen. There are over a dozen results that match her physical description, but I can easily filter through them based on the mug shots.

And then I finally find her.

Her identity is unknown. She’s listed as Jane Doe and a person of interest in a number of criminal proceedings from the past couple of weeks.

The criminal cases range from petty theft to assault and they’re all in different jurisdictions. But she’s only on the list of potential witnesses.

Interesting.

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