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CHAPTER 10

X ander

“Were you a good boy all weekend long?” Wilder had a way of making the most obnoxious entrance. He closed the door behind him.

“Define good, and you’re acting like you got laid,” I retorted.

“Maybe I did. Maybe you should try it.”

“I spent the weekend going over our marketing campaign. Not bad, but not great.”

“What would you suggest? It’s funny how you dismiss the strong urges I know exist in you.”

Urges. He had no idea just how strong they were. The darkness could only be restrained for so long. I sat back, holding my arms behind my head, a huge grin popping across my face. “Something more provocative and my life is my life. Fuck the entire female population if that makes you feel better.”

“You’re in a shitty mood. Whips, chains, and chainsaws?” He was gloating.

My thoughts drifted briefly to the sheer entertainment I’d had a week before. It seemed impossible I’d allowed eight full days to go by without tasting her again. Had she felt me inside that dark theater? Had she known I’d been sitting right behind her as she sucked up every detail, enjoying every gory moment? “Something like that. Why don’t you get to it and I’ll handle the society this time.”

“No wonder you’re acting like a shithead. You’re joining the game. Aren’t you?” he asked while half laughing. Another two and a half days had passed since being inside Jessica’s home. Almost three days of being unable to toy with her in any manner. I’d grown frustrated, almost resorting to hunting for some random filth to ease my lack of patience.

She’d found the courage to send in the questionnaire and had easily been selected by the three of us as a perfect candidate.

Eleven men and twelve women had been chosen, several of the men already employees in various positions, but none on the executive level. We didn’t preclude female employees. It just so happened this year there hadn’t been any. Did that mean any of them would reach the final? No. We had a strict criterion that had worked. More than half usually dropped or didn’t make it.

But my Desdemona would. I’d see to it.

I looked up from my computer, trying to keep the Cheshire grin off my face. “What if I am?”

“I just don’t think that’s a good idea. That’s why.”

“You don’t think I can handle the pressure?”

“I don’t think any of the candidates are in this to be broken like a china doll.”

“I have no intention of hurting anyone, at least more than they want to be hurt, of course.” I could almost taste Desdemona’s excitement the moment I’d used the switch on her. I’d found it difficult to control my actions given my blue balls.

Wilder glanced away. “You’re a dangerous man.”

“And you aren’t? What is your big concern here?”

“Your fixation on one woman. That’s what. Did you check out her background?”

“What would it matter?”

He slammed both his palms on my desk. “Because I do not want this company receiving any additional scrutiny. With Merrick gone, we are on the cusp of entering an entirely different stratosphere. I’d like to keep it that way.”

I found it interesting after our discovery of each other, his needs had shifted to something I considered far too normal when not one of the three of us could ever be considered that way. We were freaks of nature, created by violence and blood.

Especially after the inhuman deeds we’d accomplished. We’d compared notes. Our actions had been remarkably similar.

I leaned forward in my chair. “Come on, brother. Tell me another lie. You crave the same intensity, the same thrills as I do. You have midnight escapades just like I do. You might consider what you do less dangerous, but you’re wrong. Besides, what is the fun in playing it safe?”

We stared at each other for a tense moment in time.

“You’re a sick fuck. Do you know that?”

I laughed after he asked his question. “We know each other too well, brother.” I’d spent some time playing some of the games Jessica had designed, finding them a fascinating representation of the very darkness she so coveted. While somewhat amateur, the game design was brilliant, the solutions to the various levels difficult to find. She had every right to work on my team.

“Did you ever wonder about that?” he asked.

“Meaning?”

He slid into the chair opposite me, crossing his legs and leaning back as if he had all the time in the world. “Meaning why the three of us are exactly alike. We’re careful sociopaths.”

“You mean we have psychotic personalities?”

“We do. Think about it. We were raised in different homes in two different states. We had parents of different professions and financial stability. How could the three of us end up monsters? What are the odds?”

“Were any of our homes stable?”

“You tell me.”

We hadn’t talked much about the people or places where we’d grown up. There’d been no need or desire to commiserate over our bad lives. I was curious why he was broaching this now. “What would you like to know, Wilder? That one of my earliest memories was seeing my foster father beat the shit out of a puppy I’d been given because the dog whined to go outside? Or how about when I was finally removed from that horror into a quote respectable family and on the very first night I was beaten with a belt and locked in a closet. Now, tell me. What do you think about my past life?”

Wilder was the kind of man immune to stories of death, torture, and any level of violence. I’d seen it firsthand. Yet on this day, his eyes opened wide. “I’m sorry, dude. It must have gotten better from there.”

“Yeah, when I started working out and grew six inches. Then I beat the shit out of the next asshole who thought he could use me as a punching bag, killing the last one and burying him in the backyard for abusing his own wife. I had it damn good.”

“I wonder if our father was like us.”

I almost choked. “Who gives a shit. He didn’t care about us. Neither did our mother.”

“No one told us dick and you know it. Fucking social services continues to hide something either tragic or disgusting from all of us. Every one of us tried to discover our past. It took a fucking court order to locate the two of you.”

“Why the hell is this important to you?”

Wilder slumped further into his seat. He was really bothered by this. “Maybe because my thoughts and dreams have been filled with the need for destruction. I want nothing more than to wrap my hands around some prick’s throat. Maybe I’m disgusted with being me.”

“Maybe you’re searching too hard for answers that aren’t there.”

He looked me directly in the eyes. “Maybe you’re right. Discovering who the fuck they are won’t change anything.”

“You should probably realize that it might, but not for the better,” I told him.

A light rap on my door brought the conversation to a halt. My assistant popped her head in.

“You asked me to let you know when the candidates had arrived.”

“Which group?” my brother asked, now with a sly smile on his face.

“The females. They are all positioned in the quiet rooms waiting for their partners,” she said to both of us.

“Thanks, Carrie.” I took a deep breath, swinging my chair back and forth.

He glanced over his shoulder, waiting until she’d closed the door. “You like playing with fire.”

“So the fuck what? Ms. Sophie Turner isn’t exactly who she pretends to be and I want to know why. What is she gunning for other than a taste of the darkness only we can provide?”

“You think she’s listened to the whispers about the Obsidian Society on the great dark web?”

I nodded. “I’m certain given she’s in the same profession she’s done her homework.” Maybe he was right and checking her entire background was a good idea. Besides, something continued to nag at me, including her real name. I didn’t like red flags.

“That’s just it. Beware of those who speak our language. They could also be predators, but of a different color.”

“Duly noted.”

He rose from his chair, still smiling at me, yet I could see by the look in his eyes he was still on some mission to learn more about our ancestry. I couldn’t care less. I had a feeling Zach didn’t either. But he could do what he wanted. He was his own man.

I had other things to do.

Tasks that fulfilled me.

He left my office, leaving the door open. I glanced at the picture of Jessica I’d downloaded, tracing her face with my index finger. “Soon. Very soon.”