Page 34 of Sadist

Octavia was watching me warily as I slipped my phone back into my pocket.

“She’s your boss?”

The relief on her face was evident, and I nodded.

“She is.”

“And you didn’t report me to her?”

“I didn’t report you to her,” I agreed. “Not…yet. But I am far too concussed to be making promises right now.”

“So now what?” she asked.

“Right at this moment?” I said, moving to the table and sitting down. “It’s almost midnight, Octavia, and I haven’t eaten in three days. Please tell me you didn’t find the ice cream while I was out.”

Her brows pulled together in the most comical look of confusion that I huffed a laugh, wincing as it made my head pound.

“I’ll crush up some Aspirin and mix it in,” she said finally, seeming to collect herself. “Are you telling me I’ve been locked up for three days unsupervised, and there wasice creamin here the whole time?”

12

OCTAVIA

It speaks volumes that being dead was the safest I had felt since…well. Ever. Which, considering my abductor was sitting across from me, disassembling and cleaning an alarming array of weapons, was an odd place to be. I’m an atheist, but I think I have officially prayed to every patron saint known to keep me in the proverbial ground. I’d really rather not rise from the bridge ashes like the second coming of Jesus.

I had spent two days surreptitiously watching Theo since she came to, and I had finally found what made her uncomfortable.

Peace.

I understood it more than she realized. I recognized the way she needed to be in motion. If not her body, her mind— andgood lord,her mind was fascinating. There was an impressive stack of blades next to her, waiting to receive the hyperfocused attention of a frustrated semi-invalid who was incapable of sitting still, and I had no doubt that once she had gotten through every weapon hidden in this building, she would just find something else to disassemble and obsessively clean.

The coffee machine hadn’t been done in twenty-four hours.

God forbid a speck of dust settled on its gleaming surface.

I even contemplated messing up the bathroom again just to give her something to do…or maybe this time I could reorganize the bookshelf that was sorted alphabetically in perfect lines.

Or…I could just read andnotpoke the concussed and irritable murder lesbian.

Trailing my finger down the spines of the meager selection of books on said bookshelf, I frowned, pulling one free to read the blurb with a hand resting on my hip. Unsatisfied, I returned it and resumed scowling at them.

“If you want something a little more interesting, there’s a Kindle in the top drawer of the bedside table in my room,” Theo murmured from behind me.

I craned my head to look at her. She was leaning back against the table, a wet rag over her knee as she worked on sharpening and polishing the small mountain of knives.

“You…read?”

That earned me a raised brow.

“Yes. As would be suggested by…the books?”

“I—” I turned back, suddenly a lot more interested in them. They were a mix of thrillers and crime. Not anything that would usually pique my interest, but there was only so much staring at walls I could stand, and she wouldn’t let me near the computers. “I just thought they were like…here. Maybe you inherited them?”

She snorted under her breath.

“Top drawer, Octavia. I’m not completely uncultured.”

“Some would beg to differ,” I muttered as I made my way across to her room. I hadn’t been in here since she woke, but the bed had been neatly returned to the impeccable state she left everything in. I had sat on the edge of that bed, dripping water into her mouth when she gained enough consciousness not to choke. I had stripped her down and washed the dust and blood off her skin, blushing furiously as I ran a cloth over the exquisite lines of her body. But I hadn’t gone near the side table. It hadheld my fascination for days, yet I had been reluctant to snoop through it. It was probably the only place in this fucking building I hadn’t explored.

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