Page 21 of Strings Attached
“Ihave a big favor to ask,” I said as I closed my notebook.
“Oh? Are we exchanging roles today?” Jack asked in amusement. “I interview you, and you have anaskof me?”
I thought about it for a few seconds, surprised that’s what he’d want in exchange. “I mean... if that’s what you want. But you don’t even know what the favor is yet.”
“Then ask,” he said, motioning toward me to go ahead.
I bit my lower lip, wondering how exactly I could go about asking this. “I’d like to shadow you. See what you do on a regular day. And then maybe I could follow you on a day you kill someone to see if it differs in any way...”
“A regular day I’m off or one where I’m working my job?” he asked, not looking fazed by my request.
He didn’t seem reluctant, and I buzzed with excitement. “Both if you’re comfortable.”
“That’s a big ask.” He got to his feet and sat on the coffee table in front of me. His leg pushed up between mine, forcing them apart a little. “I get to ask you a big question, then. And remember...I want the truth.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay...”
“Did you have a good childhood?” he asked with a grin.
My eyebrows shot up, not at all expecting him to use my first question to him on me. I chose my words carefully, though. “My aunt raised me. She was a great mom and always showed me a lot of love.”
“What happened to your biological parents?” He took out his knife and began picking at his fingernails. It was as though he was giving me the space to answer without him staring at me, which I appreciated.
“I was born prematurely... spent the first few months of my life in the neonatal intensive care unit.” It was strange recounting the story to him, allowing him a glimpse into a life I’d long put into the past. “The doctor recommended my parents go home to spend time with my brother... you know, show him his parents were still there and cared.” I let out a long breath, and he stared up at me. “They decided to bring my brother to the hospital to see me, but they never made it back. It was snowing that day, and there was an accident. All three died in a car crash.”
He pushed the tip of the blade under my chin. “Is that why you have a fascination with death?”
“Something like that,” I said with a smirk as I placed my finger against the blade and pushed it away. “I just...”
“What?”
“I often wonder how I would’ve turned out if that accident never happened. Parents and a brother... it seems so weird to think of.” I laughed, waving my hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter, though. My aunt was a wonderful mom, and she raised me with a lot of love. Can’t complain.”
His gaze searched mine for a few seconds as though trying to figure out if I was lying or hiding something. In my case, it was definitely the latter, but as far as his question went, I’d answered truthfully. Technically.
“Did you ever attend therapy to talk about all those littlewhat-ifs?” he asked.
My defenses rose, and I bristled. “Of course I did,” I snapped. “What about you?”
He chuckled. “You already know the answer to that. It’s why you went to see Professor Frauley. Didn’t you get my patient file?”
“Well...most of it was redacted for privacy reasons,” I said quietly. It had been one thing to look through someone’s file when he was just a serial killer, but it was something else entirely to have read through some of the keywords left behind in the notes when I was speaking with the man. “Was that the only time you had therapy? In your early twenties?”
“Yes.” He tapped his knife against his chin, still surveilling me, then put it away. “Thank you for answering my question.”
“Did you take your weapon out to stop me from lying or something?” I asked with a smirk.
His eyes darkened. “If you had lied and invented a story, things may have turned out differently just now.”
“And how do you know for sure I didn’t?” I asked quietly; I wasn’t sure why I’d instigate him into doubting me, but I was too curious not to ask.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re easier to read than you think.”
I scoffed; part of me wanted to tell him I obviously wasn’t since he hadn’t picked up on the fact I was, in fact, hiding a bit more. Using his question’s specifics didn’t count as lying, but I knew better. I was definitely playing with fire.
He got to his feet and walked toward the entrance. I followed his movements, then caught sight of the box again.
“What card did he choose?” The words blurted out of my mouth before I realized what I’d said. Instantly, I stiffened as he narrowed his eyes on me. His jaw clenched as he came back, but instead of sitting in front of me, he stood behind me. He grasped my shoulders and leaned down by the side of my face.
