Even her dismal love life was worth fighting for, wasn’t it?
“Will you fucking stop!”
“Leave me alone.”
“I told you to stay fucking silent, and you wouldn’t listen, so now you’re going to be quiet.”
By the time the gag was over her mouth, her back was pressed against him, and during their little fight, he had somehow grabbed her breast, using it as something to hold onto. She didn’t know exactly what happened next as she just froze up.
He had paused behind her, and all she heard was the sound of their breathing.
“Right,” he said. “That’s better. All silent right now, which is exactly how I like you.” He released her breast, and dumped her into a chair. Any chance of escaping was lost as he tied her to that, too, a rope firmly around her waist.
Once she was secured to the chair, he clapped his hands once, and she watched as he went to his fridge, and started to make himself some food.
“Killing makes me hungry. What about you?”
She stared at him, unable to answer.
“Just so you know, my name is Bain,” he said, and she watched as he grabbed two slices of bread, slathering one slice with peanut butter and the other with some kind of cream cheese. What a disgusting combination.
Tears filled her eyes as he lifted up one gun, and did some weird back and forth game with it. He knew his guns, and soon he was going to kill her.
Slapping the two slices of bread together, he rounded the counter to stand in front of her. She didn’t mean to but ended up staring down at his crotch. Why was she staring at this man’s dick? This was completely insane, and she didn’t need this right now. The story she was going to tell had already gone up in smoke. Her life was ruined, and no one was going to hire her. She had reached her limit.
Bain cupped her chin and tilted her head back. “Why are you crying?”
She shook her head. She wasn’t about to fight the damn band across her mouth to tell this brute exactly what was wrong with her. Once he found out that she had lied, and someone knew exactly where she was, Lisa was going to die. Damn it. All she’d wanted to do was keep her job and to show she wasn’t just some researcher, but an actual reporter. She had lost count of the number of times her ideas had been taken by other women.
Every time she saw her story on the news she knew it had been given to someone else just because she wasn’t young enough, or pretty enough, or slim enough. The media was a fickle place, and you either fit into a certain image or you worked out of sight at a shitty desk. She had been struggling for a long time.
She knew what it took to make a living, and she knew how to do her damn job.
He grabbed the gag that was in her mouth and pulled it off. “I was speaking to you.”
“Why should I answer your questions? You’re nothing but a murderer.”
She tensed up expecting him to hurt her, but he only tilted his head to the side, and then sat down, eating his sandwich.
“You’re not someone I would picture as a reporter.”
Scarlett said nothing, trying to deal with whatever insult he was cooking up.
“You’re beautiful,” he said and that had her looking at him. No one had ever called her beautiful before. At thirty-six years old, she was past being beautiful, and sometimes a boyfriend had told her she was pretty or that she was okay. Yeah, the total sum of her compliments was being told that she was okay. She could live with that though. Staring at this man, this killer, as he told her that she was beautiful seemed so absurd. “What were you doing at Alexei Semenov’s house?”
“I told you already. I’m a researcher, I mean … reporter.”
Bain stared at her, taking another bite of his sandwich as he watched her. “Why him?”
She licked her lips and glanced past his shoulder. The tears that she had been keeping at bay for so long finally came to and dropped down her cheeks. “They’re making cutbacks at work. I’m not getting any younger, and we know that Alexei Semenov is a criminal. I wanted to interview him. No one would dare book an interview with him. Not only did I do that, but I actually got a sit down with him. I got the chance of a lifetime.”
“You know he would have never allowed a bad word said about him.”
“Why did you have to kill him?” she asked.
“Simple. He had a hit out on his head, and I’m known for taking care of that.”
“Ugh, you should just kill me now. There’s no way I’m going to be able to get another job.”