Page 71 of His Puppet

“Blade—”

“He’s not going to hurt you. I promise you that.”

“How do you know?”

“Because we had a talk, and I made it perfectly clear what would happen if he did.”

I point my stare at Victor’s swollen eye, and the mocking expression plastered on his face dissipates. He glares, and it’s my turn to smirk.

“I thought the Grucos didn’t want me to—”

“Things have changed.” Blade sounds impatient. Voices muffle in the background, and the phone crackles like he’s shifting it. “I’ll talk to you about it later, okay? Just do this for me. Please?”

Just the thought of beingnearVictor turns my stomach, but I grind out an “okay.” I don’t get a chance to respond when Blade says goodbye because Victor hangs up the phone and puts it back in his pocket.

“Satisfied?” he asks.

I grind my teeth and tuck the knife into my waistband, not bothering to hide it from Victor. It pokes into my side, and I readjust until I can’t feel the tip.

“Let’s just get this over with,” I grit, stepping out the door and stomping toward Victor’s car.

Neither of us say anything for the first few miles of our trip. I don’t plan on saying anything at all to him, but it unnerves me when he doesn’t poke and prod, trying to get under my skin. It’s what I expect from him, not this spiteful, quiet attitude.

“Blade must’ve really gotten to you,” I say, unable to help myself.

I look over at Victor to see his jaw clenched and angry eyes pointed at the road.

“It’s got to be killing a sadistic fuck like you to beworkingwith a girl you wanted to rape and murder.”

He huffs. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. You’re not my type.”

“You have a type of person you like to kill?” My nose crinkles in disgust.

“I have a type of person I like tofuck,” Victor corrects, his lips tilted like he’s playing back a fond memory that could be the screenplay for a horror movie.

I blink and face forward, not wanting to see him think. “You’re disgusting.”

“Mmm. Bold words for someone who’s fucking Edmund Kemper.”

I turn toward Victor, my eyes narrowed in confusion.

He gives me a sideways look and raises a brow. “Famous serial killer? Beheaded his victims and buried them in the backyard?” When I don’t light up with recognition, Victor gives his head a shake. “Doesn’t matter. Point is, your boy’s reputation isn’t any better than mine. And he got the cool nickname.”

I scoff, but blood drains from my face when I make the comparison. “Blade is nothing like you.”

“Of course he’s not.” Victor laughs. “He’s quick to anger, anal retentive, and when it comes down to handling someone like you, he’s a straight up little bitch. AndIam not nearly as dramatic.” Victor relaxes into the seat and rests an elbow on the center console while he loosely steers with his other hand.

My face heats, and my heart beats fast and angrily. I shouldn’t have said anything. Silent Victor is so much easier to be around.

“I mean, why thefuckwould you use a pocketknife to cut someone’s head off? There are so many better ways to get that done. You could use a machete, an ax, a clever, a guillotine, if you’re feeling medieval.” He turns to me and winks. “Pretty much anything sharp would be better than a pocketknife. It’s just drama.”

Bile rises up my throat from picturing Blade doing these things, and I breathe in through my nose.

“And you can’t say it was all for torture, either,” Victor continues, making me wince. If I wasn’t trying not to throw up, I’d scream at him.

“Sure, they could’ve been alive for a while, but they didn’t feel most of that. You’d sever nerves, and if you tried to go around those, you’d send them into shock. You could burn them, cut them, pull apart limbs, so many more things would cause worse pain than just beheading them, and I never heard about any marks on the bodies, did you?” he asks, although I’m pretty sure he’s just talking to himself at this point. He’s genuinely worked up, like he’s jealous Blade got recognition for something Victor deems tame.

“Of course, no one ever found his mom’s body.” He shrugs. “Who knows, he could’ve stepped up his game with her. Just like good ol’ Edmund Kemper.” Victor laughs and looks over at me with a grin, but I can barely see him. My heart has stopped beating.

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