Page 34 of Beautiful Deception

“What a coincidence.” Dr. Kian chuckles and takes a seat beside me, his thigh grazing mine as I shuffle over to avoid touching him. “I as well.”

Remo brings a chair to sit in front of me, cornering me with Dr. Kian as they sit in silence and read me with exploitive mirth in their eyes. Remo looks down at my twisted fingers and sends a dangerously piqued look at the man beside me.

Dr. Kian’s hand separates mine, gliding his long fingers between my shaking fingers, and clutches encouragingly. He runs soothing caresses on my thumb; each stroke pierces agony between my bones and carries itself into my skyrocketing heart.

“No secrets,” Dr. Kian says, in the same words and in the same tone when we first met. “I’m here to help you, and I can’t do that without giving you all the information.”

Whatever you decide to do next is yours to make. His voice from the past and now is no longer distinct, like an enchanting rite in assembling the empire of trust.

“As you’ve already guessed, it’s not the first time he’s done it.” Dr. Kian removes his glasses and dangles them in his other hand, the gold borders embracing the warm ceiling light.

“Of course, I’ve been down that road before as well,” he continues with a rumbling laugh deep from his chest. “It’s like walking; you never forget.”

Remo sighs, still impassive as ever, and leaves the chair to sit on the other side of the bed. His arm circles around my waist and hoists me onto his lap, a pitched yelp tumbling from my lips as he snuggles the top of my head.

Dr. Kian chuckles lightly and releases my hand to make a beeline to the reading desk by the wall. I fight against Remo and push his arm, but my nails scratching on his skin just cause his muscles to strain and press uncomfortably on my stomach.

Monsters, I hiss inwardly, killers of a set in the box of quicksand.

Knowing their secret means I’m either going to be killed or—

“How many?” I croak gloomily while slumping back onto Remo’s purring chest.

“Ten,” Remo mutters, his lips moving on my hair. “Three were his patients.”

“Seven for now,” Dr. Kian answers as the familiar herbal aroma washes over me.

“Why?”

“Some people are born with the need to,” he says so apathetically, sort of a response to the sky’s color.

“I meant Joe.” My eyes pinch shut, and the vivid image of the needle severing the lights in Joe’s eyes haunts the crevices of my bones as blood quivers through them to escape anywhere Remo touches.

“Process of elimination.” Remo’s muffled words trickle like a creek flowing above my pounding pulse as he cradles his arm higher to my neck.

A python’s tail, waiting for the slightest twitch of my limbs to break my bones in retribution.

“And I saw him put up the tripwire.”

I lean forward enough to turn my head and glare at the man innocently blinking at me, a small pout on his bottom lip as his furrows during an indecisive scan between my hair and my face.

“You didn’t stop him?” I sneer, my teeth aching to bite him. “I got hurt.”

“Then I wouldn’t have a reason to hurt him,” with such sincerity that I begin to doubt his skills as an FBI agent.

He shouldn’t forget what he does for a living, but I suspect he doesn’t care because it may just be his hunting ground and easy access to new victims.

Hurt. I want to scoff at the choice of wording when it should be something more serious and fitting.

“And the needle?” I demand as he cradles my jaw to turn my head forward so he can shove his face into the side of my neck and inhale deeply.

“There was circumstantial evidence to prove Kimberly killed her partner, so I made some irrefutable ones,” Remo mumbles, his lips peppering messy kisses on my skin.

I flinch, his behavior going overboard despite having to forcibly cope with his kiss from before.

He reminds me of a cat.

“Joe came to me for advice,” Dr. Kian says as he returns with the herbal drink. “Trusted confidant, I suppose. The car tires, drugging Peter, and the trip wire were his attempts to keep everyone in the villa longer and eventually become friends.”

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