Page 93 of High Density

“I admired you, looked up to you. Itrustedyou!” Spit hits my face as his fingers tighten in my hair. “But I should’ve known better. In the end, you are all the same; dishonest, deceitful sluts pretending to be purer than the driven snow.”

Then just as abruptly as he grabbed me, he lets me go, barking out a bitter laugh.

“But we know you’re not, don’t we? Spreading your legs like a dog in heat for men who aren’t worthy of your attention.”

He raises his hand, index finger pointed, and slowly taps the tip to my nose.

“You disappointed me, but I’m not ready to give up on you yet.”

I freeze when I see him pull a syringe from his pocket, pulling off the cap with his teeth. I have no doubt it’s another dose of ketamine.

“Please,” I find myself pleading before I can stop myself.

That seems to please him, as that boyish smile creeps back over his face.

“It’s a miracle drug. But you know that, don’t you? The perfect tool to control animals of all kinds. I learned that in college.” The look on his face morphs into something more predatory. “But I’ve found ingestion takes too long to take effect. Injection gives much better results. Easier to control the dosage, not so messy, and faster.”

It’s almost like he’s seeking my approval, wanting me to acknowledge how smart he is. But I can’t bring myself to stroke his ego. I’d rather try and keep him off balance.

“What about Lacey?” I find myself asking.

I remember Ewing mentioning she’d had a piece of a broken needle embedded in her neck, implying she’d been able to struggle. It may not be wise to poke the bear, but I’ll try anything to keep him from jabbing that needle into me again.

His face turns beet red.

“What about her?” he snarls.

“She wasn’t so easy to control, was she?” I taunt him.

“That wasn’t my fault, she showed up on her damn horse. I lost the element of surprise when I had to get her down first.”

I almost laugh. It’s unbelievable to me he is able to come up with a reason to blame his victim, but I guess that’s the earmark of a psychopath; a total lack of responsibility.

Another trait would be the illusion of superiority, a grandiose sense of self. Psychopaths can be prone to boasting, which is something I hope to capitalize on if I can.

All those hours of watching crime shows on TV may come in handy after all.

“What about the first girl?” I have to think hard to remember her name. “Maggie Aldridge?”

He actually chuckles.

“Textbook, but you’re wrong if you think she was my first.”

My God, how many have there been?

“How did you meet her?”

Almost distracted, I notice him fitting the cap back on the needle as he leans casually against the side of the trailer. As if he’s settling in to tell his story.

“At a private party I was dragged to by my parents. She was a server for the caterer. I was bored, so I ended up spending some time talking with the girl. She’d mentioned she liked hiking and was planning to try the trails near the Swede Mountain Lookout. She invited me to come.”

Again, he easily shifts the responsibility to his victim.Sheinvited him to come, as if what happened to her after was of her own doing.

“I bet she never saw it coming.”

His smile is back, as if he’s fondly remembering the events.

I suppress a shiver.

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