Page 38 of Sadist

“I’m going to add Stockholm syndrome to the list,” I said, smirking.

“I donothave a psychological bond with you,” she snapped.

“No?” I teased. “The fascination with everything to do with me is purely coincidental, then?”

The muscle in her jaw ticked, and she pointedly ignored me, lifted the Kindle, and started to read again.

I snorted softly, turning back to the screens and flicking through more news reports.

“You never asked me what happened,” I said into the silence, and I could almostfeelher go tense behind me.

“I know what happened,” she said after a long moment. “Whatever it is that my father stood to lose was of greater value than my life was to him. So, realistically, it still doesn’t narrow it down for me because that could be anything from a sandwich to a seat in parliament.”

I don’t know why the unbothered cadence of her voice made me so angry. She didn’t sound shocked, or upset, or even angry. It was just a fact, as if she already knew this about the man who had sired her.

“Who died for me, Theo?”

I wasn’t ready for that question, and I took a moment to compose myself before facing her.

“Whose body is in a morgue right now with my name attached?” she pressed.

Guilt swept over me as the memory suddenly hit me. The sound of her screams as the fire raged through my car.

“One of the local homeless,” I said. I owed her that truth at the very least. “She had blonde hair and a similar build to you and was happy to sit in my car for £50 and answer to your name if spoken to. I promised I would let her out after…and now she’s just another life whose blood is on my hands.”

“Why did you switch us out? Did you know that would happen?” she asked.

“No,” I said quietly. “But I’ve been in this line of work long enough to have learned to trust my gut, and it didn’t feel right.”

She asked nothing more, and I didn’t say anything else, not trusting my temper, and the next few hours passed in companionable silence.

14

OCTAVIA

Iwant her.

I’ve never wanted anyone as badly as I want Theo. It felt like madness, a slow, all-consuming need that was taking over everything. If I wasn’t mentally replaying the moment her fingers had sent me into an earth-shattering orgasm, I was making up new and inventive scenes in my mind to torture myself. And worse, Theo showed absolutely no interest in touching me again.

No…worseis admitting to myself how much that stung.

It was Saturday, the days having passed much like the rest. Theo had found things to do around the building that kept her busy, I had read a large portion of the titles on her Kindle. This only added to the predicament I was in, and we somehow managed to skirt around the huge Octavia-shaped elephant in the room as to what was going to happen to me.

Theo had become quieter with each passing day, and my anxiety was growing by the hour with the fear that it meant she had decided to hand me over to this “Erryn” who had already called twice to enquire about Theo’s recovery. I don’t know why, but each of those calls had made me bristle. She talked to her in arelaxed tone she didn’t use with anyone else…not to mention she had mistaken me for her when she had woken after her injuries.

I listened to the sound of the shower running with rising misery, mentally counting down the days until the inevitable. The water stopped, bare feet padding across the floor to the monitors, and I glanced up, my jaw dropping as I took in the sight of Theo completely nude and leaning over her desk to check something on the screen. I was transfixed. Her damp hair hung free down to the small of her back, covering the tattoo that stretched across the lean lines of muscle. Both of her arms were sleeved with tattoos, and from the side view I had, I could see the sharp V lines of her abdomen that I was dying to run my lips across. Her thighs held my attention for far too long. I knew what it felt like to run my hands up them, soft skin that I could sink my fingers into, the muscle beneath flexing as she held herself in place.

“You’re staring,” she murmured over her shoulder, not bothering to look at me.

I ripped my gaze away, then frowned and glared at her. What the hell did she expect?

“You don’t want me to look at you?”

She chuckled and shifted her weight, spreading her legs further as she clicked across into a new screen, typing something with quick, efficient taps.

“Look all you want, Sweets.”

Fuck me.My mouth was watering as I devoured the sight of her, and she bent further forward to press the button on one of the far monitors, one leg rising just off the ground as she did, giving me a perfect view of delicate pink lips that parted just a little.

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