“You’re a fighter, I’ll give you that. Two…”he continued, undaunted by her ferocity as he moved closer.

She began to shake uncontrollably but forcedherself to stare at what she already knew she would see. She gaggedand completely broke down when it came into focus through herblurred vision.

He moved to the back of the room and shewailed with relief when the projector finally shut off and thelights in the room came on, nearly blinding her.

As she was still shaking and weeping, Mr.Black unbound her ankles first and attempted to wipe her tearstained cheeks but she jerked her head away, repulsed by hissadistic touch.

No sooner were her hands freed when she stoodand pounded her fists on his chest.

“How could you?” she screamed at him.

Grabbing a hold of her wrists, he tried torein her in but she was on a mission to make him pay for hiscruelty. She fought to get free and when she did, she slapped himso hard she heard his jaw creak under her palm. He snarled, steppedback and his beefy hand swept across her cheek, leaving it blazingwith heat.

Elsa shrieked and covered her cheek, shockedthat he had just hit her.

“I told you that only the first one wasfree,” he spat out.

Enraged, she raised her hand again to deliveranother blow to his ego but he caught her wrist in mid-air.

“Don’t,” he growled.

She lifted her other hand and he gripped herby that wrist as well. “I meant it, Elsa. Do not. Hit. Me.”

Holding her by the wrists, he dragged herhollering into the bathroom and pushed her into the shower andswiftly turned on the cold water.

“Cool down!” he shouted as she shrieked fromthe sudden system shock.

She couldn’t believe what was happening toher. She was still so enraged and her mind clouded so far beyondmaking any kind of logical thought, she pounded on the shower dooras he held it closed. Several minutes later and thoroughly soakedand shivering, she broke down crying again and sank to the floor ofthe shower with God-awful images of Patrick still fresh in hermind.

Her brother’s words echoed in her brain: whathad she gotten herself into?

10: Challenging

When Victor opened the shower stall, Elsa had the appearance of awet, scrawny and trembling cat with her make-up running down herface. She had exhausted him and his body ached from her assault,but he found the strength to wrap a large bath towel around her andcarry her into the bedroom where he undressed and dried her.Surprisingly she accepted his assistance, but he knew it was onlybecause she had worn herself out as well. She was one hell of anopponent and the ache in his cheek and chest was proof of it.

Dried and wrapped in a thick, over-sizedterrycloth robe, she began shutting down. He could see it in herdemeanor and actions. She wouldn’t make eye contact with him andthe tears were still seeping from her eyes. Yes, he was a shit forwhat he had done, but holy hell, those tears… She was so fuckingbeautiful.

Everything about his previous miserable dayhad been erased from his memory when he watched her cry. Even theimages of the newly found body in Massachusetts were momentarilyforgotten. Running on only four hours sleep in the past thirty-sixhours because of work and trying to get surveillance footage ofPatrick at the last minute, he was starting to shut down mentallyas well, but he knew Elsa needed him. He had just put her throughthe wringer and if he didn’t engage her quickly, she would be lostto him. Maybe forever and he wasn’t ready for that. Not when hedesperately needed her to keep playing his game to help him escapefrom the daily atrocities he faced with his job.

He heaved her into his embrace and lifted heroff the bed.

“No,” she mewled and fought weakly.

“Hush, My Sweet Peach,” he commanded as hecarried her down the stairs. He fired up the electric fireplace andset her down in a dining room chair that was near to it in order towarm her while he made something for her to eat.

While he prepared a simple tortellini soup,he watched her through the kitchen entrance. She stared into thefireplace quietly, her body swaying hypnotically, her hand comingup to wipe her eyes of the tears that were still flowing. Maybe hehad pushed her too hard this time.

His stomach cramped and a knot rose in histhroat. Why the fuck did she have to call that piece of shit? Herpunishment was only going to be light until she dialed his number.He could live with the panty wearing, but not with her contactingan ex-lover. Lover. He wrinkled his nose in disgust atthinking of her with another man. He hoped by making Elsa see himwith another woman it would make her forget about him… but she wasstill crying. For what? That man never loved her. If Patrick had,he never would’ve let her go. If he wasn’t the man he was now andhe was like he used to be, he sure as hell never would’ve let Elsago willingly.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighedsorrowfully. He needed a long vacation away from everyone andeverything; away from killers and victim’s families’ pleas forjustice. And Anthony. Fuck him. Hell, he needed a break from lifein general. Even away from his cherished, but challenging, Eight.He glanced in her direction again to see she had moved from thechair to the chaise. No, he didn’t need time away from her, heneeded more time with her; time to break her down in order to takecomplete control of her.

He bowled the soup and carried it to thesmall table.

“Come eat, Elsa,” he gently ordered.

She shook her head. “I have no appetite.”

“You need to eat. You’re worn out and afterall that wine last night and your menial breakfast, you needsomething with substance in your stomach.”

Her sable eyes darted to him. “You knoweverything, don’t you?” she asked contemptuously.

“It’s a fact that your body becomesdehydrated after alcohol binges and you need to replenish it.”

“It wasn’t a binge, thank you. But you’refull of lots of little facts aren’t you, Mr. Black?” Her eyesrevealed the agitation rising up again and Victor feared anothershow down with her. “Here’s a little fact: you’re sadist and ason-of-a-bitch,” she hid her face in her hands and began to cryagain.

Victor left her comment to linger in the air.What would be the point of denying it? It was true. Hell, it was inhis blood and he had no one but his mother and father to thank forthose fucked-up qualities.

***

Elsa wiped her tears and looked up at Mr.Black when her statement went unanswered.

“How could you?” she asked again,sniffing.

His look of imperviousness turned toagitation and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are youcrying over a man who doesn’t deserve you?”

His statement stunned her. How the hell wouldhe know what Patrick deserved? “You don’t know Patrick or what hedeserves. You know nothing about him,” she tried to defend him.

“I know he used you for his own pleasure andthen threw you away as if you meant nothing to him,” he glared ather.

Elsa winced. It was true, Patrick had donethat, but still… “You hypocrite. What is it that you’re doing withme if not using me for your own ruthless pleasure?”

Now it was Mr. Black’s turn to wince. “I’mnot using you,” he puffed his chest out. “I’m helping you.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.Did he really believe that? “Say what?”

“You heard me. I’m helping to make you astronger person.”

“No, you’re making me learn to hate you,VICTOR,” she gave emphasis to his real name.

Suddenly the bad-ass Mr. Black shrank in hisseat. “Hate is a strong word,” his eyes reflected hurt.

“Yes, it is; the strongest. And I don’t useit frivolously.”

Recovering quickly, he waved his hand indismissal. “Hate me if you want, but you’ll be a better personbecause of me when this game is over.”