Page 81 of Violent Delights

Chapter 48

Joseph

She’s shy about letting me see her apartment when we first get there, and already begins to make excuses about its alleged chaos when we’re still in the car. It’s cute to see her this flustered about showing me a part of her that’s new to me.

Her hand is visibly shaking when she unlocks the door for us, and she casts me an apologetic smile as she beckons me to follow her inside.

“Please, remember no one has been here for more than a month, there might be dust and-”

“Dead plants?” I ask, nodding toward a sad-looking fern on a dresser in her corridor.

She laughs and shakes her head. “Oh no, that’s been dead for a while.”

Her place is small, but very homey. I don’t think I’ve ever lived in a place like this, small and simple, but so affectionately decorated that it reflects the character of its inhabitant. I don’t understand why she would make excuses for any sort of mess because she’s clearly a very organized person. Everything matches, everything has its place, even the pen and notebook next to her phone are lined up parallel to the edge of the little table they’re lying on.

She keeps casting me insecure looks as she leads me through her place, and I hate that she feels the need to excuse any of it or even feels inferior to me. She has no reason to.

“I love it,” I say, as my eyes rest on a few photos she pinned on the wall in her living room. Most of them don’t show people, but places and landscapes.

“Oh, that’s… I didn’t have time to remove those,” she hastily says, covering one of the photos that shows her with the guy I assume is her ex-boyfriend.

I smile at her, gently taking her hand and pulling her close to me.

“Relax, my pet,” I tell her. “You’re mine now, but we both have a past that we shouldn’t be afraid to share.”

She huffs. “You’re one to talk.”

“Touché,” I say, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asks. “I could make you a tea or something.”

I shake my head.

“I’ll be fine, just do what you came here to do,” I reply. “I’ll wait here and just invade your privacy so I can learn everything about you that there is to learn.” I wink.

She furrows her eyebrows, but beckons for me to sit on her small couch.

“Alright, have fun,” she says, before she leaves the room.

On her way out, I can see her checking the answering machine on her phone. She flips through the messages without listening to them, looking distraught.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She sighs, shaking her head.

“Yes, fine,” she says without looking at me. “It’s just… him.”

“He must have been worried, too,” I say, assuming she’s talking about her ex-boyfriend.

“I guess so,” she retorts, before disappearing into her bedroom.

I take a seat, my eyes scanning the room as I try to imagine the life she was leading before I ripped her from it. The kind of woman she was, what her daily routine looked like. It’s obvious that she’s an avid reader. The bookshelf that covers most of the wall to my right is filled to the brim with books of all genres, but her favorites seem to be thrillers and psychological crime fiction. That shouldn’t surprise me.

She’s a good and timid girl who’s worked hard to keep her life in line, well organized and responsible. But her mind is in a constant struggle, yearning for a breakout from all of this. She’s told me about her dark fantasies and how I - unknowingly - made them come true. The terror she felt was real when I kidnapped her, but it excited her as much as it scared her.

For every sick person out there with these dark desires and needs, there is someone else who is willing to serve those demands. I found my match in her.

She has changed clothes when she returns from her bedroom, and is now wearing a black dress, topped with silk tights and a black flower in her ash blonde hair.

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