Page 8 of Seducer

I scanned the perimeter, allowing the rage to fuel my actions when I snagged the folded piece of eight and a half by eleven copy paper. As soon as I read the quote on the page, I almost burst into laughter.

“Fear the sins that you commit in secret, because the witness of those sins is the judge himself.”

Oddly, I knew the saying and the author of the quip, Ali Ibn Abi Talib. I’d discovered the passage over a decade before, convinced the saying had been written about my life and the decisions I’d made. Of course that wasn’t true, but I’d found significant comfort in the thought.

I scanned the perimeter again, certain I was being watched. Whoever had left the note had balls. I’d give him that. With the note still in my hand, I returned to my house, barely managing to type in the security numbers on the system before heading to my office where the security monitors could be easily viewed. I was more than curious to learn the identity of the fucker who’d dared breach my privacy.

Whoever had managed to thwart the system had talent. That pissed me off more than anything.

Given my car had been returned only two hours before, that left a shorter window of time for the intruder to bypass my system. I thumped down in the chair behind my desk, pulling up the system’s software. Any breach would have provided notice on the computer and my phone, but there’d been none.

Less than three minutes later, I found what I was looking for. A figure clothed in dark attire and shrouded by shadows approached my vehicle from the woods located just off the driveway. By the size of the person in the camera frame, it seemed the intruder was a male, but I could be wrong, the boots worn easily lifting them by a couple of inches. Instead of taking purposeful, quick steps, the man was lackadaisical about his actions, sauntering around my vehicle twice as if admiring it before pulling the note from his pocket.

He was wearing black jeans and a matching hoodie, nothing to indicate age or social status for that matter. After leaving the note under my windshield, he did the unexpected. He turned around slowly, lifting his head to the closest camera.

As if knowing the exact location.

To my surprise, the man was wearing a mask. Not just any traditional ski mask worn by thousands of criminals, but a very special one, a creation both enticing and insulting my creative mind.

The garish piece was crude, likely handmade, but it told a perfectly macabre story.

A monster with glowing red eyes and blood dripping from its jowls.

How appropriate, especially for a man like me.

I sat back, studying the frame for only a few seconds. Whoever was attempting to scare or threaten me certainly had no understanding of the vile things that excited the hell out of me.

Was I pissed at the invasion? Hell, yes, but it was the first time in far too long that my blood was boiling. A perfect aphrodisiac for the upcoming evening.

Perhaps the moment I hunted and captured the fucker responsible, I’d thank him or her for the extra coaxing to my sadistic needs.

Then I’d sever their head from their body.

As I rose from my desk, I felt free to admit I was one dangerous, twisted fuck.

CHAPTER 4

Zachariah

“Hey, my man. You made it.” Even under the Zorro mask, it was easy to recognize my best friend Jacob’s face. He couldn’t hide the huge, thick mustache he’d been sporting since I’d met him years before. “Welcome to Wild Seduction night. Imagine the possibilities for all the kinky things we can become involved in.” His laugh boomed in the busy club.

Neither he nor my other buddies I’d agreed to meet for the evening’s festivities chose to stand, the stage drawing their full attention. Steve and Brant were hiking buddies, somehow convincing me to join the hiking club the year before. Much to my brothers’ amusement and continued ribbing.

I wasn’t the kind of man to join a club under any circumstances. Including any kink club. I didn’t need to pay to play for my sins. I could get them for free.

Not that I’d done so lately. In fact, it had been close to two years at this point.

“Sorry about the delay. I had a visitor I needed to check out prior to leaving.” I sat down on the fourth chair, taking a few seconds of my time to peruse the interior. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to Sanity, a highly respected dance and kink club located in the heart of Chicago. Its claim to fame was that there was no secret society, no catering to the upper echelon.

If you had a pulse and could pay the entrance fee, you were in. As long as you didn’t cause trouble.

The ceilings and walls were painted black, a spectacular backdrop for the festive ever-changing light show, as the club owners referred to their mood-melding designs. The moment I’d stepped foot inside years before, I’d felt a kindred spirit in the wayward people frequenting the happening joint.

We were all a little fucked up.

“That sounds clandestine,” Steve said as he swirled his usual glass of whiskey. The man had particular and very dark tastes, something that had taken me months to ascertain. He was even more private than I was.

“Annoying but also amusing. Nothing to worry about.” The waitress was also dressed in costume, her female devil outfit catching my attention as much as her swaying. Since she wasn’t keeping time to the heady tribal beat of the drum, I had a feeling she’d had one too many before coming on shift.

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