Page 10 of Torment

She didn’t know what true misery was, though. Not yet.

I glanced at the video feed again. Jolie was still standing at the window holding a glass of wine, around three-quarters full. The glass was dripping slightly, and she dragged her painted red fingernails across the bottom of it to remove the droplets. With a tiny thrill, I pictured those nails dragging across my chest instead, right in the throes of passion. Or over the back of my hand, just a light sweeping touch. The same thing she used to do back at New Eden, whenever she gazed adoringly into my eyes.

I stood up abruptly. I couldn’t think of this evil little bitch like that, no matter how beautiful and enticing she may be. If anything, the perfect smooth white skin on her face should remind me of what she’d done to me. What she’d taken from me, and what she’d left me with.

I decided I needed to get out of the house. Get away from her. It was raining now, so it was unlikely anyone would take much notice of me wandering around wearing a bulky jacket with the hood pulled over to cover the fucked-up side of my face.

I headed all the way to the concrete walkway running alongside the Mississippi.

Jolie had been down here earlier. I’d followed her after she left the café in Lakeview, and I watched her from a short distance as she wandered up and down the riverfront. Her face was serene, and the breeze coming off the water made the ends of her hair dance in the light. It took an iron will to resist the urge to stride right up to her and run my hands through it, but I knew I had to keep away for now.

It was all wrong, anyway. I hated the new garish red color on her. It clashed weirdly with her skin tone. When I finally had her with me, I would strip the dye out and return her to her natural dirty blonde shade. I’d scrub all that fucking makeup off her face, too.

I usually didn’t have any issue with women wearing cosmetics—my attitude was basically ‘let people do whatever the fuck they want with their own faces and bodies’—but Jolie simply looked wrong with all that gunk on her face. I wanted her to look like herself when I tormented her. The way I remembered her.

I stopped near the small lot where Jolie parked her car earlier. Separating the rain-spotted asphalt from the riverwalk was a strip of yellow-green grass, still recovering from the blistering heat of summer. Out on the brown water beyond, an old tugboat pulled a barge loaded with railway cars. It tooted its horn as it chugged by. I turned away and looked over at the parking lot, a frown pulling at my brows.

When Jolie was heading back to her car earlier, I noticed a man following her closely from the riverwalk. He was a bulky guy, and I could tell his intentions weren’t exactly honorable, given the knife in his hand. This city had so many fucking lowlifes.

I grabbed him, covered his mouth, and dragged him behind two parked cars before he could mug her. Or worse. Then I twisted his neck and let him drop to the asphalt with a heavy, bone-cracking thud.

I didn’t do it because I wanted to defend Jolie. I simply wanted to defend my ability to capture her, torture her, and kill her. All by myself.

Even though I had so many plans for her, I wasn’t going to take her just yet. There were a lot of things that needed to be worked out first, and I also needed to watch her for as long as I could. Figure out all her patterns. Until then, I would continue to toy with her. Make her life as miserable as possible.

I knelt down to the nearby strip of grass and grabbed a blade, rolling it between my fingers. Then I tossed it into the rainy breeze. It flew several yards before gravity brought it to rest in the murky depths of the river.

I smiled.

One day in the not-so-distant future, Jolie would be right down there with it.

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