Page 5 of Beast

“Why shouldn’t I?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

His eyes darkened, but he gestured to the empty booth. “My treat, since if you knew it was me, then you wouldn’t have agreed to come.”

So, if he knew, then why trick me? I felt humiliated as every word which we’d ever exchanged flashed through my mind.

“Did you join the group because you knew I was in it?” I hissed, not moving from my spot.

“No.”

A few people glanced our way, and embarrassment flooded me.

I slid in across from him, my heart rattling in my chest like a wild bird. He sat down. We hadn’t seen each other since high school.

This close-up, his lips were plush and his smile held a hint of danger. It was the kind of smile you’d find on a pirate; the kind of smile that could seduce and pillage.

His eyes were the deepest shade of onyx, the darkest I’d ever seen, not just in color but in intensity and brilliance. A hint of a spicy cologne, not too strong, tickled my nose, just enough to make me think he not only smelled good but that he was a man who took care of himself.

I shook my head. No, this man was an irritating bully.

“What can I get you, sweetie?” a waitress asked as she stepped up to our table.

“An espresso.” As good as he looked now, I’d learned that handsome packaging could be deceiving. Best to have something that I could drink and leave quickly.

The waitress gave him a smile and turned away because he already had a drink.

“I heard they were planning to reenact the Ted Bundy case,” he said in a sexy voice I don’t remember him having before, and goosebumps broke out across my skin at the sound of it.

My heart rate picked up again and I wished I could stop staring at his mouth. “Oh?” I managed to say, as though disinterested.

He leaned forward, tracing his fingers along the paper napkin on the table.

“They’re romanticizing him. Women think that he’ll fall in love with them and they go on dates, thinking that they can change him. Make him fall in love and fix him.”

“That’s not true.”

“Of course, it isn’t. It’s a myth.” He licked his lips. “What about you? What do you do nowadays?”

“I study psychology.” I shrugged and thanked the waitress when she brought my espresso. I added two sugars and motioned to him. “What about you?”

“The same.”

I glanced at his hands. He didn’t have any tattoos that I could see. Had he dropped out of the motorcycle club he was in? Or did he hide his markings?

“Why was your screen name, JD? For Jeffery Dahmer?” He brushed a hand through his hair, his gaze studying me.

There was the one case, according to all sources, where there had been a connection with one of his victims—Tony.

“Like Jeffery thought, at first, Tony could cure him. And it seemed like it was reciprocated because Tony stayed and didn’t flee when he should have, and it intrigued me. None of Jeffery’s other victims had me curious like Tony, because I thought he loved Tony, but it became clear he was incapable of empathy.”

His lips curled into a smile. “Or it could mean there was a good director and the true story of their relationship was Hollywoodized.”

I thought back to our texts and realized as far as he was concerned serial killers were sick. It had nothing to do with their brain make-up, nor their environment, he came here to tell me they weren’t made that way, just born to kill. I came here to tell him he was wrong.

“Bundy was so fucked-up his ego was challenged by strong women.” He chuckled.

“You think he was shallow?”

“Yes.”

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