Page 32 of Sinner

She’d found the courage to send in the questionnaire and had easily been selected by the three of us as a perfect candidate.

Eleven men and twelve women had been chosen, several of the men already employees in various positions, but none on the executive level. We didn’t preclude female employees. It just so happened this year there hadn’t been any. Did that mean any of them would reach the final? No. We had a strict criterion that had worked. More than half usually dropped or didn’t make it.

But my Desdemona would. I’d see to it.

I looked up from my computer, trying to keep the Cheshire grin off my face. “What if I am?”

“I just don’t think that’s a good idea. That’s why.”

“You don’t think I can handle the pressure?”

“I don’t think any of the candidates are in this to be broken like a china doll.”

“I have no intention of hurting anyone, at least more than they want to be hurt, of course.” I could almost taste Desdemona’s excitement the moment I’d used the switch on her. I’d found it difficult to control my actions given my blue balls.

Wilder glanced away. “You’re a dangerous man.”

“And you aren’t? What is your big concern here?”

“Your fixation on one woman. That’s what. Did you check out her background?”

“What would it matter?”

He slammed both his palms on my desk. “Because I do not want this company receiving any additional scrutiny. With Merrick gone, we are on the cusp of entering an entirely different stratosphere. I’d like to keep it that way.”

I found it interesting after our discovery of each other, his needs had shifted to something I considered far too normal when not one of the three of us could ever be considered that way. We were freaks of nature, created by violence and blood.

Especially after the inhuman deeds we’d accomplished. We’d compared notes. Our actions had been remarkably similar.

I leaned forward in my chair. “Come on, brother. Tell me another lie. You crave the same intensity, the same thrills as I do. You have midnight escapades just like I do. You might consider what you do less dangerous, but you’re wrong. Besides, what is the fun in playing it safe?”

We stared at each other for a tense moment in time.

“You’re a sick fuck. Do you know that?”

I laughed after he asked his question. “We know each other too well, brother.” I’d spent some time playing some of the games Jessica had designed, finding them a fascinating representation of the very darkness she so coveted. While somewhat amateur, the game design was brilliant, the solutions to the various levels difficult to find. She had every right to work on my team.

“Did you ever wonder about that?” he asked.

“Meaning?”

He slid into the chair opposite me, crossing his legs and leaning back as if he had all the time in the world. “Meaning why the three of us are exactly alike. We’re careful sociopaths.”

“You mean we have psychotic personalities?”

“We do. Think about it. We were raised in different homes in two different states. We had parents of different professions and financial stability. How could the three of us end up monsters? What are the odds?”

“Were any of our homes stable?”

“You tell me.”

We hadn’t talked much about the people or places where we’d grown up. There’d been no need or desire to commiserate over our bad lives. I was curious why he was broaching this now. “What would you like to know, Wilder? That one of my earliest memories was seeing my foster father beat the shit out of a puppy I’d been given because the dog whined to go outside? Or how about when I was finally removed from that horror into a quote respectable family and on the very first night I was beatenwith a belt and locked in a closet. Now, tell me. What do you think about my past life?”

Wilder was the kind of man immune to stories of death, torture, and any level of violence. I’d seen it firsthand. Yet on this day, his eyes opened wide. “I’m sorry, dude. It must have gotten better from there.”

“Yeah, when I started working out and grew six inches. Then I beat the shit out of the next asshole who thought he could use me as a punching bag, killing the last one and burying him in the backyard for abusing his own wife. I had it damn good.”

“I wonder if our father was like us.”

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