Page 31 of Omega
“Remember what happened?” I asked.
She nodded. “He just vanished, between one day and the next.”
“It turns out your creeper radar is pretty accurate,” I said. “Harris didn’t like the looks of Steven any more than you did, so he did some digging. Turns out Steven was into BDSM.”
“Holy shit!” Layla said. “I knew it!”
“Actually, that isn’t entirely accurate. I’ve known some people who were into real BDSM,” Harris said, “and what Steven was intowasn’tBDSM. Real BDSM—bondage, dominance, and sadomasochism—functions around three basic tenets: safe, sane, and consensual. What Steven liked was just…sick. The photos I provided in that file were just the tip of the iceberg, and the more palatable ones at that. When he was done with a woman, she was never the same again. Most of them were too traumatized and too permanently damaged to be capable of pursuing criminal charges. And he was also good at vanishing under the radar when he was done, so it was pretty hard to find him. And with no one pressing charges against him, there was no one looking.”
“Jesus,” Layla breathed. “What the hell was he into?”
“Torture,” Harris answered. “It wasn’t about sex, or bondage, or any of that. It was about inflicting pain, and getting off on it. And trust me, it wasneverconsensual. Maybe it started out as consensual sex, but by the time his victims realized what he really wanted, he had them tied up and helpless. It was fucking sick, and I’ve never enjoyed ridding the world of filth so much as when I ended that sick bastard.”
Layla missed a step. “You—what?”
I closed my eyes briefly. “You did kill him, then?” I asked. “I was never sure. Roth wouldn’t tell me.”
“We had a little…conversation…first,” Harris said, and the tone of his voice was terrifying. “He admitted his plans for you. Let’s just say that you were going to be getting special treatment. He had some extra sick shit planned for you. I won’t repeat any of it. Gina could have learned a few things from him, let’s just put it that way.”
Layla was noticeably quiet. “So you tortured him and then killed him?”
“Does that turn your stomach, Miss Campari? He was a predator, and planning to rape and torture your best friend. Rape and torture, in fact, aren’t quite the most accurate words for what he had in mind. He knew about you too, actually. He had photographs of you.” Harris’s voice was quiet, low.
“He…did?”
“When he was done with Kyrie, he was going to just flat-out abduct you and have fun. You had no one who would miss your absence, and he was planning to take advantage of that fact.”
I stopped and faced Harris. “You and Roth never told me that.”
“No reason to. He was taken care of. No need to worry you with something that wasn’t going to happen.”
“I just—” Layla halted, as if unsure what she was planning to say. “I suppose I owe you a thank you, then.”
“That’s not the only time Harris saved our asses without us knowing,” I said. “Remember that night in college when we got hammered after finals?”
Layla laughed. “Which time?”
“Exactly. Well, this particular instance, you were so shitfaced I had to basically carry you home.”
Layla nodded. “Ah,thattime.”
“Well, apparently we had some company.”
“Company?” Layla frowned. “What’s that mean?”
“It means if it wasn’t for Harris, we’d both be dead,” I said.
“How? I don’t follow.”
“You were colossally wasted, so you may not remember, but a few blocks away from the bar, there were these three guys on a street corner, shouting at us in Spanish. I guess they were following us. According to Harris, they were planning to break into our apartment and…well, I’m sure you can guess.”
“Holy shit, really?” Layla looked from Harris to me and back. “And you stopped them?”
“I took care of the problem, yes. I found out later that those three young men were wanted in connection with several other violent sexual assaults and at least one murder. They were probably guilty of more of both, though.”
“Damn. So you were our guardian angel, huh?” Layla asked.
“Something like that,” Harris said.