Page 9 of Depraved Devotion

“I’m sorry. I’m talking to myself. Just ignore me.”

“Whatever you say, miss.”

The middle-aged man shifts his gaze from me to the road and turns up the radio a notch. I look down at the open folder resting on my lap before flipping through the scant information we have on Ghost.

Behavior

Name Preference:Only exhibits a response to being called “Ghost.” Identifies strongly with the alias given by federal authorities, possibly as a form of psychological defense.

Physical Movements:Tests the restraints frequently, indicating discomfort with confinement but also possibly assessing escape potential or demonstrating his apathy.

Reading Dr. Richards’s report is interesting, considering he’s had the longest interaction with Ghost so far. However, I disagree with his conclusion that Ghost is assessing potential escape. He turned himself in.

So the real question is: What does Ghost stand to gain from it?

Psychological Indicators

Control and Power:Derives satisfaction from the fear and control he exerts over others. This is a recurring theme in his speech, indicating a potential for antisocial personality disorder with traits associated with psychopathy. Further evaluation to confirm conduct disorder as a juvenile is required for a diagnosis of ASPD, and further tests such as the PCL-R may confirm psychopathic tendencies.

“Ah, fuck me.”

I let my head fall back against the headrest and close my eyes, ignoring the driver’s curious glance. Psychopaths are the hardest to deal with. The lack of human emotion is something I can intellectually comprehend, but even my reserved and strict nature isn’t completely void of feelings.

No matter how much I try to ignore them.

The cab pulls to a stop, jolting me from my work.

“We’re here,” the driver says. “Have a good night, miss.”

“You too.”

I hurriedly shove the folder in my bag and exit the cab. In front of me is a modern high-rise design with a sleek glass façade and metallic accents. It stands prominently against the Manhattan skyline, with balconies for some apartments. Mine is one of them.

Lucky for me, a couple of years ago, my living room was a crime scene I was called in to analyze. I offered the landlord a reduced rate, explaining it’d be hard for him to find a tenant who’d be willing to overlook the homicide that took place there. Since then,I’ve lived in an apartment that I otherwise couldn’t afford without resigning myself to processed noodles for the rest of my life.

As I enter the grand foyer of the building, the familiar luxury envelops me. The floor is a glossy expanse of marble, reflecting the soft glow of the pendant lights above. Art deco pieces line the walls—curated spots of color against the neutral tones of the interior.

The concierge nods at me with a practiced smile, his presence a steady constant. He flicks his gaze and jerks his chin to my left.

I follow the gesture to find the last person I want to see.

CHAPTER 5

GENEVA

Mason leans against one of the marble columns, his figure casual but out of place in the meticulously designed space. At the sight of him, a knot of annoyance tightens in my stomach.

Uninvited and unexpected.

I mask my irritation with a practiced smile, the kind I reserve for suspects who think they’ve outsmarted the system. Or me.

“Gen, hey!” Mason pushes off from the column, his smile wide.

“Hey,” I manage, my voice even. “What are you doing here? Were we supposed to meet, and I forgot?”

“No. I just wanted to surprise you.”

He steps closer with his arms lifted, as if seeking approval for his spontaneous visit. He’s not going to get it from me. Maybe on another night when I’m in need of physical relief my vibrator can’t provide. But I doubt I’ll be able to orgasm because of all the stress due to my impending interview with Ghost.