Page 83 of One
He grits his teeth at my taunting, and his relaxed posture turns rigid. I’m getting to him. Like most serial killers, he wants people to think of him as one of the greatest murderers in history. And he likes to gloat. I almost roll my eyes at his stupid weakness. I still don’t know how to release myself, but I need to stall until I figure it out.
“Sloppy,” I say in a singsong voice I’ve heard Rami use when he wants to be a pain in the ass.
“Cocky words from the guy tied to a chair.”
“You knocked me out from behind,” I remind him. The ache in the back of my head is proof of that. “Although, that’s not how you normally work on your victims. You do have a thing for attacking from the back.”
“A frontal shot to the chest isn’t my preference either. But sometimes you have to bend to the circumstances.” He waves his hand toward his partner’s dead body, looking annoyed by it.
“How do you make your victims trust you? Is it the badge?” I’ve found that people are usually unwary around law enforcement and clergymen.
“That surely helps. But I also use a drug that makes them feel a bit softer toward me before killing them.”
“Michael didn’t find any trace of drugs in their blood.”
“Because it dissolves within two hour of ingestion. Ingenious, isn’t it?” He raises a brow at me, expecting… What? A round of applause?Unfortunately, my hands are tied.
“Not particularly. Just like your name: Rope Killer.” I chuckle.
“I didn’t choose it,” he barks, moving toward the shelves and then back toward the door. “Those fucking police medical examiners did.”
I discreetly move my hands against the paddings again to calculate the sturdiness of the armrests.
“It’s ridiculous, since technically you don’t even use rope to strangle them,” I add to cover the cracking of the chair. “But the Necklace Killer sounds even worse.”
If my brothers aren’t on their way here now, they will be soon. Rami must be wondering where I am. I’m pretty sure I’m quite far from Michael’s place, so it must have taken time for Polsner to bring me here and secure me to the chair. One hour, maybe two? My tracker will tell them where I am. But I want to fuck this asshole up myself.
“So, you figured it out. Bravo. You’re not the dumb millionaire I thought you’d be.” He lifts the metal chain from his neck and pulls it off.
“Like I care what you think,” I retort, looking at the way he’s holding the chain between his gloved hands. A dark desire fills his eyes. I know that hungry expression very well. It’s the one I have on my face every time I’m alone with a donor.
“So, you’re going to kill me like one of your victims? I thought I wasn’t your type.” Itsk. My black hair, green eyes, and muscular body are a far cry from his preferred prey.
“Why aren’t you scared? Do you think someone is going to come and save you? We couldn’t be further away from your opulent life. Nobody will ever find you here.” He sneers, leaning toward me and invading my personal space. A headbutt is very doable if he comes a little bit closer.
“Just not scared of you, I guess,” I deadpan. Like Meg said, he likes to see the terror shaking his victims, overtaking them; to control them and have sole power. And what’s more powerful than having someone’s faith in your hands? It’s a good thing I can’t experience fear that easily.
He studies my empty eyes and relaxed pose. He opens his mouth to say something, but the loud bang of the door hitting the wall cuts him off. Polsner quickly shifts behind me, wrapping the chain swiftly around my neck.
As soon as I see who came for me, all my protective instincts abruptly turn on. I yank furiously against the ties and push uncaringly against the metal chain around my neck. The primal need to reach Michael is tearing me in two.
Michael’s eyes quickly glance at the body on the floor and then at me. I can see horror, panic, and worry swirling in his gaze, but he gives me a stilted nod before focusing on Polsner.
Motherfuckingshit! Why the fuck is Michael here? And where are the others?
“Dr. Caldwell, so nice of you to join us.” I can feel the Cheshire Cat smile in Polsner’s voice. With my hands still restrained and the damn chain around my neck, I can’t do much.
“Let him go.” Michael’s voice is commanding. His fists are balled up so tightly the knuckles are white. He takes a step toward us, but stops when Polsner forces the chain back, pulling it tighter against my throat.
“And why would I do that?”
“Because he doesn’t look like your brother,” Michael replies.
His brother?
Polsner’s grip loosens slightly. “You did your homework, Doctor. You are incredibly skilled, as well as nosy. But how did you find me?”
“Tracked your phone,” Michael replies.
