Grace Street (A Chapter 8 Novel, #1) (27 page)

She suddenly felt a bond with the unknown
woman. Maybe Elsa, too, was a blind fool for thinking that Victor
was someone else when really, he was just pretending to be a nice
guy and leading her on. Well, a nice guy on the rarest of
occasions.

Still fascinated with Mr. Black’s encounter
with Jordan, she reread his final thoughts.

Chapter 4

Closing Thoughts:

All things test subject related must come to
an end eventually. You have satiated my curiosity and it is time to
move on. Our time together will not be forgotten any time soon nor
will the feeling of your strong embrace. I truly hate to send you
on your way as I will miss our intense fuck sessions, but it all
boils down to my inability to help you, though it’s not for lack of
trying on my part. Getting you to accept who you are has proven too
monumental a task for the both of us. You will never admit to
yourself or your family who you really are despite my less than
ethical means of trying to make that happen.

I wish you no ill will, but rather, I hope
someday you can fully acknowledge your true sexuality. Life is too
short to do otherwise. This was a learning experience for me as
well and I know with certainty that I cannot refute who I am any
more than you can reject your feelings toward other men. Largely
due to this liaison, I understand on a deeper level the attraction
and connection felt between same sex partners, the shared
sentiments, likes and dislikes, etc.

Will I take on another male test subject? I
have no inclination to do so at this time. I prefer the company of
a woman and everything that the female body and mind offers me.
Namely, allowing me to live up to my full potential as a dominant
male and, quite frankly, my thirst for pussy.

Not that you didn’t permit me to exert my
power over you or hinder my dominance, C4. Quite the contrary; the
control and authority you allowed me were compelling in their own
right. I owned every fuckable inch of you during our time together
and there is no denying that I will miss and dream of your ass and
mouth often.

That being said, I am not opposed to the
idea of taking on another male for experimental purposes as I
believe in always keeping my options open, especially if it means
information can be gained while my twisted needs are met.

The rest of Saturday afternoon and evening
was spent with her nose buried in Mr. Black’s chronicles. Elsa
found Chapter Three to be spoiled and temperamental, and she had a
difficult time connecting with this particular ‘subject.’ She
didn’t even feel remotely sorry for what Mr. Black had put the
woman through, including caging her at one point. It was clear to
see, at least to Elsa, that Anissa didn’t want to be helped. She
simply wanted Victor Laurenzo’s full and undivided attention. That
part Elsa could understand and sympathize with completely.

As she read each Chapter and worked her way
to the beginning of where it all started, it was fascinating to see
Mr. Black’s lack of experience show itself. Whereas he was
confident with his methods and punishment in Chapter Seven, in
Chapter Three, he questioned himself and even his motives. He even
tended to be more lenient with her than the later Chapters.

Annoyed with Anissa, she skimmed most of her
notes. Just about ready to give up and jump to the end, she was
jolted when she came upon a riveting and telling paragraph.

Weekend 6:

The morning started as per usual – a fair
cock sucking followed by a less than memorable fucking. I find
myself becoming bored with you. Your antics are never-ending, your
tantrums continue when some perceived wrong has been perpetrated on
you or you haven’t gotten your way… Blah, blah, blah. This has all
been said before. Why am I keeping you around?

Your overreaction Sunday night put things
into perspective for me. When I spoke of our time coming to an end,
you hinted at ending your life. Was your threat real? You’ve cried
wolf so many times about so many other things, I have no idea. Nor
do I care. However, the question lingers in my mind: do I really
hold that kind of power over you? It’s a frightening and
intoxicating thought.

I can’t help but wonder if this is how my
father felt when he did those heinous things – Godly. If I had said
the word
go
, would you have obeyed and
slit your wrists? Something deep inside of me wanted to tell you,
yes, go ahead,
do it
, just so I could
watch you slowly bleed out. I fully realize that my disturbing
thoughts are not to be taken lightly, yet there is no one I can
speak with about these feelings. If I admitted any of this, I would
be cast out of my job and labeled as psychotic. Or worse, a
sociopath. But then, one bad seed breeds another. In my case, I got
a double dose of bad.

There had been no mention of Victor’s father
anywhere in the information that Nick had found and nothing of him
up to this point in his writings. Elsa’s empty stomach gurgled and
she suddenly felt nauseous. Had he been abused so badly that morbid
and devious thoughts inundated him? Then to work in the field that
he chose? Wouldn’t that only make matters worse?

She began to quickly try to rationalize his
thoughts, for her own understanding and acceptance. He was a
criminal profiler so maybe he was overworked and stressed. Perhaps
the nature of his employment had proven to be too much for his
psyche to handle after having been abused as a child. If only she
could just ask him to clarify things. Hell, she was only guessing
that he had been abused. Maybe he hadn’t been.

She looked around her apartment with spots in
her vision. Not having eaten all day, staring at the words on the
pages and trying to maintain her sanity for hours on end had taken
its toll on her. She stood and her back cracked loudly, reminding
her that in addition to all of the above, she hadn’t moved other
than to relieve her bladder and to change her dressings.

Pacing in front of her window to get
circulation back into her legs, she was struck with the idea that
there was a chance that Victor had the same disturbing feelings
about her. But her Chapter hadn’t been written yet. His thoughts
were all in the personal journal he kept near to him at all times.
If only she could get a hold of it, but she knew that was an
impossibility. She was lucky to have read the small portion she did
without being caught.

She was on borrowed time as far as that was
concerned and she knew it. When and if Victor ever viewed the video
footage, she would pay dearly. But if he ever found out she had his
precious document? Elsa became light-headed thinking about it. She
didn’t dare think about what kind of hell there would be to pay if
that ever became known.

***

The remainder of Friday night for Victor had
been spent in the FBI office catching up with emails and work
related issues. He crashed on a couch in the lounge area for nearly
four hours and woke early Saturday feeling and looking like hell.
Elsa’s face intermixed with the ghastly images from the Cambridge
murders had filled his thoughts all fucking night. He was tired of
the nightmares jerking him out of sleep. As hard as he tried to
pretend like the nature of his work and his actions against his
Chapters didn’t affect him, the unbearable ache in his chest
solidified his ever-growing self-loathing.

Late morning was spent in a sleep-deprived
daze having conversations that he couldn’t even recall. He
eventually made it home but not until early afternoon. When he
walked up the long path, his eyes were bleary from the long drive,
but something looked out of place. He stared for several moments
and rubbed his eyes, but he was too weary to try and figure it
out.

Once inside, he was struck with a faint
remnant of Elsa’s scent. Was he losing his mind? He pulled his
jacket off and brought it to his nose and immediately felt
relieved. Her perfume was still lingering on his clothing.

Finally showered and in clean clothing, he
settled in his home away from home – his office. Again, things
looked slightly off. He sat perfectly still in the large leather
chair, allowing only his eyes to move around the room as he scanned
every single document on his desk, every note and sheet of paper.
It all looked in order, yet… he just couldn’t put his finger on the
thing that was making him feel as if someone had invaded his
privacy.

He opened his desk drawers one by one to find
nothing missing. Of course there wouldn’t be. If his house had been
broken into, his silent alarm would’ve gone off and he would’ve
been notified. What the hell was wrong with him?

Opening the bottom drawer, he reached down
and touched his case study and the twine tied around it. Something
was definitely amiss. Or… he really was losing his fucking
mind.

His cell phone rang out, catching him by
surprise and he slammed the drawer closed. His heart lurched into
his throat when he heard something serious was going down in
Cambridge and he needed to get back right away. God, he hoped it
was the break they needed.

Quickly, he retrieved his journal and
photocopied his notes about Elsa to have couriered to the Virginia
Pen. As he placed the precious cargo into a manila envelope, he
vacillated. Did he really want to share her with Anthony? He knew
the kind of sociopath Ant was and the thoughts that would be going
through his head when he read about her. Could he really live with
himself knowing that he had given Ant the opportunity to fantasize
about fucking and dismembering Elsa like he had all his victims?
His mouth set into a deep frown thinking about it.

He had never hesitated before to share the
information regarding his Chapters because he knew it could be used
as leverage when he needed help with a particular case. But Elsa
was different. A pain in the ass, but they all were on some level.
She wanted him to see the light at the end of the dark tunnel and
even though it was a futile attempt on her part, it was noble
nonetheless.

He glanced at his wall clock and wondered
what he and Elsa might be doing if he hadn’t cancelled their
weekend together. Deep down, he already knew. He would be watching
her
when she wasn’t looking. He would be taking
in every curve and imperfection of her body. He would be studying
the delicate laugh lines of her face that spoke of her joy and
wondering what memory each line held. Each time he saw her, he
found her more attractive than the time before. Her expressions
were becoming familiar and easier to read. His favorite: when she
was trying to anticipate his next move. The softness of her skin,
the ink decorating her flesh, her scent, her soothing feminine
voice spoken in barely a whisper… She was femininity in its most
perfect form.

No, he wasn’t going to
share his Peach with Ant.

***

Lying in bed, Elsa finished with Chapter Two.
This particular subject had seemed more like an experiment in Mr.
Black’s ability to take control. His lack of skill was even more
glaringly apparent in these writings. It was a nice change. She
felt like she was reading Victor’s thoughts when he wrote about
Kayla and not Mr. Black’s. He was gentler with this Chapter and far
more lenient. Elsa actually felt a bit of jealousy toward Kayla.
She wished she had known Victor back then. There might have been a
chance with him if she had gotten to him before his light was
extinguished and Mr. Black had completely taken control.

If only there was a time frame she could put
with the case studies. She tried making a mental timeline by adding
all the weeks together and subtracting them from the current date,
but it was only a guestimate and a poor one at that considering she
didn’t know how long the time frame was between each Chapter. Her
best guess was that he had been subjugating these poor people to
his will for at least three years, though in reality, probably
longer.

She had sped through Chapter Two eager to get
to the beginning but as she turned each page and got closer to the
end, there was a sinking feeling that she hadn’t learned everything
she wanted to know. When she turned the last page she was outraged
to find that there was no Chapter One. His case study simply
ended.

His words had caused her to laugh, cry, yell,
throw things across the room, and feel sympathy, empathy, anger,
arousal and disgust. It was the best non-novel she had ever read.
The damned manuscript had left her a pile of frayed nerves and
blistered emotions, and now there was no resolution to any of it?
No beginning and no end? What the fuck kind of cruel joke was
this?

Elsa stared at the last page for nearly a
minute in dumbfounded shock and denial. If she hadn’t stolen the
damned thing, she would’ve demanded a refund. She felt like
screaming at the top of her lungs, but instead, all that came out
was lunatic laughter. She really was insane and Mr. Black was all
to blame.

Infuriated, she stuffed the pages into her
backpack and forced herself to sleep.

Sunday morning, she woke late and decided to
take a bus to the hospital to rescue her vehicle before it got
towed. She was still livid about the lack of a Chapter One. She
wanted more. She needed all of it if she was going to get through
to Victor.

On her way home, she stopped off at her
favorite café, unable to bring herself to go home. She had spent
nearly twenty-four hours confined there and she needed fresh air
and sunlight.

As she sipped on her coffee, she was treated,
yet again, to seeing Victor’s face on television. There was a big
break in the case and he was front and center at a press
conference. Elsa rushed to the counter to see what was going
on.

Victor looked tired but his voice was steady
and calm when he answered a reporter’s question. “I can’t give away
any vital information at this time. However, I can tell you that
we’ve had a significant break in the case and we’re acting on it
appropriately.”