Page 19 of Cruel Malady: A Necrosis of the Mind

He ticks off the reasons on his fingers. “You were the only escort from a different company. You were annoyed by my presence. Presumably, I was an interference. You were very interested in watching Ericson’s martini…which I now gather was the intended target of your drug cocktail. And the most obvious: Ericson seemed like a prick. The type of guy who’d have a few women vying for retribution.”

I snort a laugh. “Very observant.”

“I knew something was…different about you,” he continues. “Never would’ve come to this conclusion, however, but that’s why I followed after you last night.” His eyes narrow on me. “I was curious about you.”

I take a sip of cappuccino. “Well, you know what they say about curiosity killing cats.”

His smile borders on smoldering as his gaze drinks me in. “I don’t necessarily like cats. Too mischievous.”

“That they are.” I run my tongue over my lips as I consider him. As a scientist, he’d have a curious nature. This I can believe. I reach into my expensive tote and pull out his pocket watch.

“Why do you carry an antique timepiece?” I slide it his way along the table.

He takes the watch, and I study how he noticeably relaxes now that it’s in his grasp. Like I realized last night, this item is very important to him.

“My sister gave it to me.” He clicks the cover open. His fingers touch the backing reverently as his blue gaze inspects the object. “Before she died,” he adds.

His sister. That would explain the inscription. I would offer my condolences, but I don’t feel the need for forced commiseration with him. He’d perceive it as trite. For that, I’m thankful.

“So, is it hybristophilia?” he says suddenly, catching me off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“How you came to be in the business of revenge.” He slips the watch into his front pocket. “A paraphilia where one is attracted to dangerous men, such as serial killers…or perhaps prick financial advisers?”

“Wow. You really are an awkward conversationalist.” I take another sip of coffee.

Despite my criticism of him, a tiny corner inside me can relate to this man. Had I not spent years studying how to blend in, I’d probably be even more awkward than him. I can’t fault this guy for investing his time in the study of curing disease rather than manipulation. It’s admirable.

“Or maybe…” He scoots his chair around the table, closer to mine. “It’s just about the danger itself. Or you were wronged by someone. Someone close. You’re a scorned woman bent on delivering righteous vengeance.”

Now I laugh out right. He smiles, enjoying the sound of my laugh. “None of the above,” I say, tossing my newly dyed hair from my shoulders. “It pays well.”

He shakes his head. “Not buying it. Nothing is ever really about money. Besides, after a quick Google search, I know that you have plenty of money.”

“Family money,” I correct. “Not mine.”

He simply watches me, waiting.

As I trace my fingertip around the mug, I think about how I came to be where I am, maybe for the first time ever. I’m not really the reflective type.

“Fine,” I say. “Here’s the truth. My first year at Brown, I decided college wasn’t for me. My mother wanted to ‘put me in my place’ and cut off all financial means. I was always good at computers, and there’s a plethora of work to be found on the dark web.”

He holds up a hand. “Wait. Just like that? No, hey, let me work my way up to the big jobs.”

I lift my chin. “I came across an ad for a revenge job, and I took it.” I shrug. “I knew I’d be good at it, and I was.”

I leave out some finer details, like how the adrenaline-inducing danger surrounding my work is the only thing that penetrates the non-feeling parts of me. That’s not a great conversational piece. Admittedly, Alex has gotten me to open up more in the first five minutes of talking to him then I have to just about anyone else.

That realization is curious, and a little alarming—and somewhat thrilling in its own way.This is different.I haven’t experienced different in a while.

His gaze holds mine, resolute. “You might be the most decisive person I’ve ever met.”

“What can I say? Vengeance is my ethos. It suits me.”

“So ultimately, it is about the money.”

I nod in affirmation. “Sometimes, it’s just that simple.”

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