Page 25

Eve

“Thank you for your time, Eve, and we look forward to meeting with you next week!”

The history professor shakes my hand, his bright brown eyes gleaming as he smiles widely at me. I return the smile with genuine sincerity, happy to see him.

“It’s my pleasure,” I reply as I draw my hand away and smooth it down the front of my ivory blazer. “It’s been hard since my father passed, but I am ready to get back to work and continue collaborating with all of you. It’s the least I can do to keep his memory alive.”

He nods absentmindedly as his eyes drift to the scarf around my neck, his brows knitting together ever so slightly. My hand snaps to my neck as I adjust the fabric, pulling it up with a grin.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” He asks with concern in his voice. “Those dig sites are definitely dangerous, all of that loose soil piled around.”

The marks from Jason’s hand a few days ago had formed a lovely bruise around the circumference of my neck, and I knew that it wouldn’t go unnoticed by my peers: the best excuse I could muster was that I had slipped and fell while touring an archaeological dig this weekend. It was a desperate lie, but it sounded better than “my boyfriend choked me unconscious.”

“Oh I’m perfectly fine,” my voice hums sweetly as I make my way to the door. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

On the contrary, it’s what I had planned for.

As I saunter out towards the parking lot, my phone buzzes in my pocket: I don’t bother checking the name before sliding it out and bringing it to my ear.

“This is Eve.”

“Eve? Hey, it’s Maya. Just checking to see if you’re still coming by Clover tonight for your VIP meeting.”

I know tonight is going to be the first time Jason and I will see each other–work together–since the altercation at his home, but I have no intention of staying home and nursing my wounds. Quite the opposite. I want him to see me, want EVERYONE to see. If he wants my forgiveness, he needs to own what he did.

“Yup, I’ll be there,” I huff as I get into my car and proceed to drive out of the lot. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

The clacking of a keyboard in the background eats up the few seconds of silence from Maya before I hear her throat clear and slight shuffling on the other line.

“You bet: figured the new cafe a few blocks from Clover would work, if that’s ok with you.”

“I’ll never say no to caffeine: text me a time and I’ll see you then.”

The line goes dead and I toss my phone into the center console. Maya was never one for long goodbyes or talking more than needed, and it’s a quality of hers I’ve come to really appreciate.

As I make my way up the onramp to the freeway, I check my mirrors to merge, and out of the corner of my eye I swear I see a car that looks just like Jason’s trailing far back behind me.

The club is packed, a sea of bodies all ebbing and flowing with the music, pulled to it like ocean waves under the moon. I stand near the front doors, feeling my heart syncing to the beat before closing my eyes and breathing deeply. The smell of sweat and smoke caress my lungs as my chest expands to capacity, soaking in the energy around me: I feel my inner animal purring deviously against the bars of her cage, knowing that freedom is only an elevator ride away, and I can’t help but to smile.

“Eve?”

The tone in Jack’s voice is enough to wake me from my trance as I turn to face him. His eyes widen while looking me up and down with a combination of awe and horror. I watch as his gaze travels from my high red stilettos, up my bare legs to the glittering hem of my short red dress, past the plunging V neckline to the base of my neck before settling on the bruises there.

“Hey handsome, my eyes are up here,” I say playfully as I motion with my hands for him to look up.

He swallows.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, that’s for damn sure.”

His words are strained, forced through a clenched jaw as he approaches me and hugs me before tracing the backs of his fingers along my shoulders and across my neck, assessing the damage.. For such a large, muscular man, his touch is surprisingly gentle. Like a feather across my skin.

“Who did this to you,” he says lowly, his voice dangerous and protective, “and when can we get them downstairs?”

I smile at him and rise up on my toes to kiss his cheek.

“He’s already downstairs,” I say before lowering myself and giving him a knowing look.

“No fucking way,” Jack says, the disbelief in his voice palpable and heavy. “That man LOVES you, Eve. Like, dangerously. There’s no way he would’ve done that to you, of all people.”

He offers me his arm and I take it gladly, navigating the crowd as we make our way to the VIP room.

“Oh I KNOW he loves me dangerously. I just had no idea HOW dangerously until a few days ago. He apologized of course, and I’m sure after tonight things will go right back to normal.”

The dancing lights inside the club catch on his face and I see him shake his head in disagreement.

“There are lines,” he says as we approach the familiar black doors of the lounge. “Lines to what you can and cannot do. I don’t care how violent his nature is, you don’t hit women. You don’t assault people you love. Not unless it’s completely necessary, to protect yourself from them.”

He pulls out his card and scans it, looking down at me with empathy in his eyes.

“You promise me that you look out for YOURSELF, girl. I’ve been teaching you as much as I can these last few months, and I don’t want you to think for a SECOND that just because you love Jason, that you shouldn’t use your training against him if you need to. Jason and I may work together, but we all have an understanding here. Business first. Always business first. I don’t care how much Jason and I get along, I’ll be first in line behind you to kick his ass if he ever poses a threat to you again.”

I smile at him, a real, wide smile, and place my hand on his shoulder.

“I appreciate that Jack, and I know you mean it. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that, but it’s good to know you feel that way.”

I look up at the VIP sign at the top of the doorway as I pass beneath it, hearing those heavy doors shut behind me. For a few seconds I revel in the quiet, the flickering fluorescent lights and the smell of death floating from the elevator doors at the end of the hall. Closing my eyes, I mentally open the cage around my killer instincts, feeling my body chemistry shift as I open my eyes and stare down the hallway, my nerves on fire with anticipation.

Let’s do this.

Maya and Ace are already below, waiting in the larger foyer as I exit the elevator. Maya’s eyes roam over my body, a hum of approval vibrating in her throat as I turn to face them both, feeling the energy in the air shift as they see all of me.

“He inside?” I nod my head towards the hallway as I watch Ace’s eyes drift to my neck.

“Yeah, his client is all prepped,” he says, his gaze not budging an inch. “Be prepared, Eve. This one is…different.”

The muscles in his cheeks feather as his jaw clenches, his teeth working against each other as if he’s fighting back the urge to speak further. I open my mouth to ask but am interrupted by the sudden movement beside him.

It takes Maya half a heartbeat for her to jump to her feet and walk over to me, her beautiful almond eyes narrowing dangerously as she cocks her head to the side, reading the bruises like a book: I wonder what kind of story they’re telling her.

“Eve, I’ve seen marks like this more times than I care to count…” her voice fades slightly as her hand rises to her own neck, hovering in the air just above her throat before dropping to her side. “You want to tell me what happened? Who did this?”

My head doesn’t move as my eyes flicker over towards the hallway for the briefest of moments before snapping back to Maya’s face.

“It’s nothing, I swear. I’ve been through worse.” I toss my hair back, shaking away the memories of the attack on my driveway.

“When did this happen?”

Ace’s voice is quiet so quiet, compared to his usual jolly, loud timbre. He peers up at me from beneath his brows, his eyes asking a silent question. One he already knows the answer to.

“A few days ago,” I reply vaguely before walking towards the hallway. Pausing at the mouth of the long, dark corridor, I dip my chin and tilt my head ever so slightly towards Ace, speaking over my shoulder to him.

“Three days ago, exactly.”

My heels echo as I walk away, the clacking of my heels almost as loud as the wheels turning in Ace’s head.

Jason looks devastating. His usually coiffed combover has been replaced with a sharp, slicked back style that leaves his masked face on full display. Standing at the head of the stainless steel table with his hands behind his back, he is the picture of dominance in an onyx black suit, so dark it seems to drain the room of whatever light dares to come close enough.

His head dips slightly as I feel his gaze devour me, my skin burning with a dangerous marriage of desire and dread.

“You…didn’t cover them up. The bruises”

Darkness in his voice, like his suit. Like the midnight sky. Like his soul. The single sentence makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as I caress my neck gingerly.

“I couldn’t find a necklace I liked more than the prints of your hands.”

My lips curl into a predatory smile. This is a dangerous game of chess I’m playing, but I’m not afraid of losing.

After all, I’m the one who set the board.

Jason remains silent and motions to the computer, giving me the OK to start the broadcast. As I approach the desk, I finally deign to glance at the sheet covering the person restrained underneath: expecting the telltale grunts and groans of a grown man, I find that instead I am met with quiet whimpers. And the shape…the shape isn’t right…

My brows furrow as I grasp my own mask from the drawer below, fixing it to my face before pushing LIVE and walking away from the computer. I glance up at the monitor on the wall next to us, and viewer comments begin to flood the screen.

IT’S THAT TIME AGAIN!

OH MY GOD, LOOK AT THAT DRESS

THAT RED DRESS IS SO FUCKING SEXY

KING! KING! KING!

I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE WHO IT IS TODAY

JESUS I WANT TO FUCK HER SO BAD

PLEASE TELL ME SHE’S DOING THE KILLING TODAY

COME ON KING, PULL THAT SHEET OFF!

I press my lips into a thin line, trying to hide my amusement at the comments as I take my place by Jason’s side. We look at each other, and my breath catches in my chest. His pupils are blown, his gold eyes darkened completely as a crooked smile cracks his face.

“I’m glad you came,” he whispers to me, glancing down towards my mouth and biting his bottom lip. “I have a surprise for you.”

Chills run down my spine as he saunters over towards the side of the table before pivoting towards the camera.

“AllllllRIGHT everybody, we have a special surprise today!” He says gleefully, grasping the sheet in his fist. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a client of this…demographic…and boy am I excited to get started!”

He tears the sheet away in one fluid motion, revealing the person on the table. And I feel my jaw hit the floor.

A woman.

Completely naked, her pale skin all but glows under the harsh lights as the rise and fall of her chest mirrors the panic that courses through her. Her long, straight blonde locks flow from the sides of her face down the edges of the table, like liquid gold spilling across cold silver. Her eyes are squinted closed, adjusting to the lights above, and as her lids open slowly I see pools of green framed by thick lashes. The fullness of her lips, the freckles…I feel my blood turn to ice in my veins.

She looks like me.

Jason notes my reaction and scoffs with amusement: if I didn’t know any better I’d swear he could read my mind.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce today’s Jane Doe!” He continues on towards the camera, walking around the table slowly, a predator circling its prey. “Jane is a lady of the night, who used her good looks and personality to charm a number of innocent women into the service of her employers.” Jason looks my way and motions to me with a broad sweep of his arm. “The same employers whose cronies once tried to kidnap this lovely creature before me.”

So this is what Ace meant when he said “this one might hit close to home.”

“The victims of this woman were all beaten, tortured, raped, and left for dead. Some of them were. A few of them survived. We spoke to the survivors, who described Miss Doe here as the woman who worked with these degenerates. The woman who was in the same room as them as they passed around like party favors for some of the most notorious individuals in the criminal underground. Laughing as they cried out for help. Bringing in fresh girls when their guests grew tired of the ones they’d used up.”

I don’t even notice myself shaking my head as I walk over towards the tool rack, the woman’s eyes locking with mine through my mask and widening slightly. If what Jason says is true, she definitely deserves what is coming to her. But out of anyone Jason could’ve procured, he chose HER: a woman who resembles me, strapped to a table and at his mercy. Begging for her freedom. Just as I had beseeched him for mine.

He is trying to send a message. To ME.

“Please hand me the hammer,” he directs his question to me with an outstretched hand.

Glancing at the camera, I steel my nerves and offer him an empty smile. My fingers find the cool wood handle of the roofing hammer hanging from the rack, and my hand shakes as I reach across the woman’s body to hand it to him. Her eyes follow the hammer as she frantically thrashes her head against the restraints before whipping her face over to me. Her mouth works against the gag, tears streaming down her face and mixing with the beads of sweat already peppering her brows.

My nose stings with the scent of salt and fear…and despite her sordid past–the fact that she worked with the same organization who tried to kidnap me from my own driveway–I feel the smallest ember of sympathy alight inside me.

CRACK

Her throat tears violently, the sound a mix of human scream and animal howl. Slowly, shakily, I turn to face Jason, and see the woman’s shin cracked in half, a small piece of bone jutting through the skin. Jason is hovering over her leg, hammer resting on the table near her ankle as he inspects the wound. The force he had to have used, the aggression…

Keep it together Eve, the web is watching.

I look up at Jason and lift my chin, staring at him down the bridge of my nose.

Crippling her, so she can’t get away: if his actions are any indication as to his desire to emotionally hobble me and keep me close, he’s off to a great fucking start.

Scrolling in my peripheral captures my attention as my eyes drift up to the monitor. The chat feed is frantic and I can barely keep up with the comments flooding the screen.

DID YOU HEAR THAT

SHIT SNAPPED LIKE A TWIG

SHE SOUNDS LIKE AN ANIMAL

GETTING WHAT SHE DESERVED

YOU SHOULD FUCK HER FIRST

PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE GONNA CUT HER TITS OFF

SHE LOOKS SO PRETTY IN PAIN

For a second my stomach twists, and I feel whatever shred of conscience I have left fighting to break free.. Desperate to remind me of my humanity. My head cocks to the side as I weigh my instincts and consider whether or not to let it breathe.

No. No, I don’t think I will.

I drown it immediately.

I want this. This life, this freedom. All of these parallels between this woman and I, they’re all in my head. Whether or not her torture is what Jason intended as a message, is now irrelevant.

I am in control. Not Jason.

I feel movement to my side as Jason walks around the table to stand by my side, his body casting a shadow over mine as he looks down at his handiwork.

“What do you think, hmm? Should we give the people what they want?”

Looking up at Jason, my eyes meet his challenging gaze, and I feel the ice in my veins begin to melt. The ember that once burned in sympathy for the woman below us is now fanning into a flame of violence and rage, licking along my skin and setting my nerves ablaze.

“You’re the King,” I say subserviently, averting my eyes.

The smallest motion, the simple sentence…and his countenance shifts immediately.

I know he loves me because my personality matches his: dark embraces dark, feeds it, nourishes it. Yet he wants me to resurrect the mask of normalcy that we spent so long breaking together, to rebuild it and wear it for him. To make HIM happy. Once upon a time I would’ve considered it, for the man who took the time to hold a mirror to me and bring me face to face with the monsters that lived beneath my skin.

That consideration was choked out of me that day on his couch.

Jason bares his teeth in a wild grimace, a picture-perfect psychopath. My meek demeanor drives him to madness as he all but shoves me out of the way and grabs a small metal device from the drawer of the tool rack behind us.

My ankle nearly rolls as I struggle to keep my balance, and in seconds he is hovering over the woman’s torso. A short, sharp clipping sound is followed by a strangled cry, growing into a drawn-out wail after the sound of a second clip.

The heel of his dress shoes squeak as he pivots and grabs my hand, prying my fist open and dropping something into my palm. I feel two small, soft pieces of warm wet flesh hit my skin and my jaw sets. I refuse to lift my head to behold his handiwork. I don’t have to. I know what those bits of flesh are.

“Well, guys, I’d say she won’t be needing those anymore!” Jason’s voice doesn’t sound like his as he steps aside and throws the tool on the rack.

A cigar clipper.

I dare to look.

The woman’s chest heaves as two trails of blood trickle from the spots where her nipples used to be.

“Let’s see, what else did she do to those poor girls? What other horrors did they suffer after this spider led them into her web?”

The wall-mounted monitor dissolves. The camera and computer disappear. Everything else fades away from view as I focus on Jason, reading him, anticipating him, stalking his every motion. He is pacing around the table, restless and drowning in adrenaline as he all but skips over to the tool rack and grabs a small, sharp scalpel and walks over to the other side of the table. His head is fixated on the woman as his eyes travel from her face to her bloody breasts, down the flat plane of her stomach, before resting between her legs.

Something deep in me clenches tight as I press my own thighs together. I know what’s coming. After all, I skinned a man’s cock for trying and FAILING to abduct me.

Is this what Jason felt, watching me butcher the most private areas of another man?

I shake my head, my copper coils dancing around my neck and shoulders, catching Jason’s attention. He pauses, knife poised, one hand on the woman’s thigh as he holds her leg apart.

“You don’t agree?” He says, glancing back over his shoulder at the camera, shrugging his shoulders in an exaggerated act of indifference.

“You’re the King,” I repeat as I dip my chin. “This is your kingdom, your world. You punish those as you see fit.”

I hold back the urge to continue on, reminding myself of the role I’m meant to play here. His assistant. His nurse. His subject.

“Isn’t that the truth,” he replies, his voice dangerously low as he drops his chin and looks at me through the shadowed filigree of his own mask. His lip curls into a sneer as his blade falls upon the woman.

Minutes feel like hours as I stare straight ahead at the monitor, doing my best to ignore the sounds of choking, tearing and slicing: a never-ending symphony of sadism.

Something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I see Ace’s security camera above the door turn from green to red. I search my brain for some memory as to what it means, replaying my conversations with Maya and Ace over the last few months, until finally it clicks.

Someone in the office is actively watching the stream.

Keeping my gaze fixated on the camera, I raise my eyebrows ever so slightly, the motion visible at the top of my mask, as I incline my head towards Jason. Motioning to him.

Just in time to catch him staring at me.

The sleeves of his suit are pushed up and bunched around his elbows, his forearms and knife completely coated with blood, not a single patch of clean skin showing.

I was so distracted by the camera that I didn’t even notice the screaming had stopped. I glance at the woman now passed out on the table.

The once pale and pristine skin of her legs and belly are mangled, as if a wild animal had torn her to shreds. Whatever femininity was once between her legs has been cut away, pieces of skin strewn over her chest. Mirroring how I had once discarded the privates of my own victim.

Jason has lost control. His once meticulous, surgical approach has been replaced with feral rage, clawing and tearing at his victims like a bear.

I look up at her chest–her breathing shallow–and marvel at how she is still alive.

“King,” I voice loudly through a large, plastic smile. “I’d say your work here is done. She’s finished. Let’s end it on a high note for your fans, what do you say?”

I move to grasp the large dagger mounted on the rack, the size perfect for plunging into her chest for a quick death, and Jason all but flies across the room, lunging for the blade. His hand covers mine, bloody palm slipping around my fingers and closing my fist on the handle, before bringing his lips to my ear.

“I think she can last a little longer.”

His hand slides from mine and down to the small box of adrenaline syringes below. My eyes widen as he spins around, takes a couple steps and slams the needle into her neck. My heart skips a beat watching her chest rise and fall rapidly: her eyes flit open and it takes her a few seconds before the screaming starts. Her eyelids all but disappear, wide with pain and panic, as she looks downwards at the mangled mess below her waist.

Horror. Sheer horror.

I know what the Suits are. What Jason’s job down here is. I know that torture and death are expected. Yet I find my brows furrowing at Jason as I continue to watch him, smaller knife still in hand, frantically carve up this woman’s breasts as if there’s buried treasure inside. Any finesse or professionalism that he used to pride himself on is going to die on this table with this woman. The hair on the back of my neck rises stiffly as a chill runs down my arms.

Jane Doe lasts another few moments before passing out again, and this time her chest remains as still as stone. Jason stands over the table, huffing with the effort of his wild, untamed kill, and as I silently turn to walk towards the computer to end the live, my eyes meet the security camera one last time.