Page 93 of Sinner

Maybe for the rest of my life.

By the time I made it into my room once again, my gown has swished back and forth across my bottom. That was uncomfortable as hell. With a little more spring in my step, Imoved toward the dresser, shifting my body and tugging the nightgown up to my waist.

I wasn’t crazy after all.

There were faint blush marks crisscrossing my bottom from when he’d punished me. With his belt.

Because I’d asked him to do so.

Fuck.

What did all this mean: the charade of pretending he wasn’t Sinner, running me a bath, testing my mettle, and being so unlike the ruthless bastard I knew him to be?

This was a mind fuck. That’s what it was. He’d played a hand in his game I hadn’t anticipated. He’d won the round after I’d beaten him at his own game playing Dark Nights. I could envision what would be next.

My sinner, my stalker wouldn’t be able to leave me alone but for so long. The game was too far in the future.

However, he wasn’t going to win. Not by a long shot.

If he wanted to play games, I was all in.

Xander might be my sinner, but he just better look out. I was a force to be reckoned with.

CHAPTER 27

Xander

“Have you ever stopped to think about the fact we should be labeled as serial killers?” Wilder asked the question, and it wasn’t as if it was completely out of the blue. He was a sick fuck that way, often inserting aspects of his twisted humor within the worlds of a game.

“Did you ever stop to think while asking such questions in public there could be those poor, slovenly souls who buy your lines of bullshit?”

He burst into laughter. He was the kind of killer who threw it all out there, leaving crumbs of clues sprinkled along the way. While I’d never cared in the beginning whether I was hunted down like a beast or not, once I’d started enjoying living my way, I’d learned to become much more careful.

“Come on. Haven’t you ever wondered what your moniker would be? Let me think.” He rubbed his fingers across his face and it appeared he’d lost track of his razor. “The Butcher from theEastside. No, that’s too long. The Chicago Slicer? Sinner is just too… ordinary.”

“Do you really get off on talking about this shit?”

“You’re in a mood tonight.” He scooted his glass back and forth from hand to hand. “You used to enjoy playing God.”

“I still do, but I don’t need to go into detail about it.”

He grumbled under his breath. “Fine. So much for general conversation.”

“Where the hell is Zach? Wasn’t he supposed to be here?”

“I think he’s eviscerating a member of accounting for stealing from us.” When I didn’t take the bait, he rolled his eyes. “Elizabeth wanted to talk to him about something. I doubt he’ll show.”

“Then why the fuck are we here?”

“Can’t we just be together as friends?” There was mischief in his eyes as there always was when pretending we should be close. We would never be close friends under any circumstances, but we did have the same sick blood running through our veins.

I checked my watch, shifting my thoughts to my lamb. Jessica brought constant surprises to the table.

The passing of time was annoying when you were waiting for an event to occur. I’d made a promise to myself that I’d leave Jessica alone prior to the festivities on Friday night. But here it was Tuesday evening and I was fucking going out of my mind.

Including drumming my fingers on the bar table.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” Wilder demanded in his usual nasty tone.

---