Текст книги "Return to Grace Street"

Автор книги: Ella Dominguez

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

24: Reunion

With loud music blaring through Victor’s car speakers to the tune of Down with the Sickness by Disturbed, he contemplated the decisions he had made over the last decade. And longer. Being a criminal profiler was the perfect articulation for Victor’s intellect and personality. It was something he knew almost immediately after becoming an FBI agent. As he drove to the Virginia State Pen, he tried to recollect what exactly made him choose Criminal Psychology as his major. Finding out who his real father was had played a significant part in his decision, but it wasn’t the only reason he had decided to go into this line of work.

A memory of his mother crept up on him without warning, the words she had spoken so many years ago just as fresh as if she had said them only minutes before.

There’s nothing good in this world and there’s no one worth saving. The sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be.

With vivid clarity, he recalled how those words had made him feel. They were the catalyst that drove him to become a profiler. He was young and hopeful then, and believed that one person could make a difference. He believed that there were people worth saving and he wanted to be the man who saved them. He also wanted to prove his bat-shit-crazy-mother wrong and to make her eat crow.

After Chapter One, he still held onto those beliefs, despite his methods of helping people having taken a drastic turn toward the dark side.

He had spent the last six hours making the connection from Franco to Bruce. He had to give it to the old man, he was smart. His correspondence with Franco had gone undetected because the man had disguised himself as a university student studying psychology. He even had a fake student ID to present when he visited.

How could something that simple have been overlooked? Not only by the authorities at the prison, but by himself? He was livid with himself. People had died and if only he had looked a little closer at all of his visitors, a few lives might have been spared. Luckily for everyone involved, the young detective’s keen eyes had spotted things that seemed out of place. Like the strange women’s keepsakes that were now being linked to each of the victims – a piece of cheap ladies jewelry, a rhinestone embellished hair pin, and the oddest of them – one single woman’s sock.

Now it was just as a matter of presenting the evidence to the right people in order to make their case flawless, but before he did that, he wanted one last meeting with Anthony. One last reunion, if you will, before he severed ties completely. Victor didn’t need him – not his fucked up advice or his input on criminal cases. He would find someone else for that. Killers were a dime a dozen and the only reason he had kept up relations with Anthony was out of some fucked up sense of familial obligation, even if Anthony didn’t know about his paternal connection to him. As far as that went, no one except Elsa need know about his relationship with the old man.

But Anthony was a fighter and an asshole with retribution on his mind. He had lashed out after Victor had threatened him and now seeing him again might trigger some other vengeful action on his part.

Like divulging all his dirty secrets about his Chapters and his less than ethical treatment of them.

Obviously, Victor would deny those allegations if it ever came down to that. Anthony had no proof and all of the notes that had been photocopied had been confiscated and handed back over to him. It would be the word of a lying, piece of shit killer over the word of a respected criminal profiler.

As he sat waiting for Anthony to arrive, his blood began to boil at the thought of what he had put Franco up to. How dare he try to take away the only person who meant anything to him. Surely he knew that Elsa was important to him even if he didn’t know why or how. He had been guiding and dictating his actions since the beginning. He had found a protégé to carry out his murderous acts while he lived a life of stony luxury behind prison walls. Luxury as far as Victor was concerned considering what all his victims had been put through. Anthony thought he was safe there within those four walls and out of reach from any further justice being done to him.

But he was wrong and things were going to change. Victor had associates, too, and he could make Anthony’s life a living hell behind bars. He could make that asshole pay, physically and mentally for what he had done to Elsa. And he would.

Anthony ambled into the room and it took every ounce of inner strength for Victor not to lunge at him and strangle the life out of him. He had insisted that Anthony not be told who was visiting him. Since Franco had been arrested, Anthony was still in the dark that his partner in crime was behind bars, giving Victor the element of surprise.

When he saw Victor, a brief look of upset flashed over his craggy face.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Agent Cocksucker?” he remained standing.

Victor glanced at the guard and gave him a slight nod to which the man pushed Anthony down into the chair in front of him.

“I just wanted to tell you in person that I know what you did and soon, everyone else will know, too. Including that judge you hate so much. I’m sure it won’t take much to persuade him to make things even worse for you in here.”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “You don’t know jack shit. I ain’t done nothin’ and you got no proof…”

“You’re wrong,” he swiftly cut him off. “You should’ve found someone who wasn’t such a dumbass to carry out your wishes, Ant. Someone who could fight harder… Run faster…”

Anthony revealed nothing, his expression remaining unmoved. He was a practiced liar and it shone. Hell, he had been doing it his whole life and nothing was going to change that.

“Do you want me to relay any messages to Franco from you?” Victor leaned back in his chair as he casually threw the name out there.

Anthony's pupils flared under the bright light and the bob of his Adam’s apple were the only signs that his cool exterior was wavering.

“Who’s Franco?” the corner of his mouth lifted in a condescending grin.

“No one,” Victor straightened his tie nonchalantly. “Just some asshole who thought he was smarter than me.”

“It don’t take much to be smarter than you,” Anthony lifted an eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“That might be true, but if he was, he wouldn’t be sitting in jail about ready to face judge and jury for killing all those women.” He pushed his chair back and stood as he glared down at Anthony. His insides were rioting with hatred and self-loathing as he stared into the mirror image of himself. His lack of sleep was taking its toll on him and having to face his father for the last time threatened to put a crack in his composure, but he held strong. “I’ll see what I can do to make sure you two get cells next to each other that way you can discuss the pros and cons of life behind bars. Perhaps you can figure out where you two went wrong in your little plan…” He strolled toward the door. “If you’re lucky, maybe he likes to suck dick. But then again, he seems more like a receiver than a giver…”

A low growl rumbled in Anthony’s throat making Victor smile. He was getting to him and he felt a pride in having been the one to deliver the blow to his ego.

“You should know that Chapter Eight is alive and well. She’s with me and so long as she is, no harm will ever come to her. Try to remember that when they’re sticking the needle in you.” He peered over his shoulder as he took a step over the threshold of the door, ready to close this chapter of his life. “By the way, I’ll be there for that. See you then.”

25: Stripped Away

Victor had called two more times to check in on Elsa after leaving her at her office. His voice had soothed her anxiety, and the image of his fuzzy, bearded face and the words he had spoken to her as he held her the night before made her long to be with him. It was moments like that that she cherished. Mr. Black hadn’t made an appearance in days. Maybe longer. She had no idea as time seemed to slow when she was with him and everything she had done with him blurred into one big, twisted memory. Even though Mr. Black hadn’t been overtly present, there were small glimpses of him. Like when he fucked her mouth roughly. And when Victor’s temper flared. Yes, Victor and Mr. Black were one and the same; intrinsically combined and inseparable.

Yet, Victor seemed to have the upper hand now. Was it possible that he was really changing? She found it hard to believe. Not in such a short time span. Not unless they really want to.

As she lay in bed trying to fall asleep, she wondered how his meeting with Anthony went. His father. She still wasn’t used to the idea. She never would be. It made no sense that someone like Victor could have come from a man like that. Not even with his dark side looming beneath his man-of-justice exterior. Mr. Black could be cruel, sure, but not murderous.

The memory of him lashing her with the belt jolted her awake. He had treated her like a worthless animal and the pain of what he did to her would forever be seared into her psyche. However, now that she knew of his past and what he had endured, she somehow felt sympathetic toward him. Perhaps it was ignorance on her part. Maybe it was just the way she was built. She wasn’t mentally equipped enough to psychoanalyze herself to try and figure it out.

What Victor had done was unforgivable no matter what his past circumstances were, but the look in his eyes when he fell to his knees and held her afterward… The look in his eyes when he saw the scars he had caused… The look in his eyes anytime she brought up how she felt about what he did… There was remorse there; genuine, gut wrenching regret.

She hoped that someday she would completely forgive him. She needed to because harboring the kind of resentment toward Mr. Black that she did wasn’t healthy. Even in her fucked-up state of mind she knew that. She could feel the anger eating away at her peace of mind, bit by bit, and she wanted no part of it.

Just as she drifted to sleep once more, her mother and brother’s panicked voices suddenly intruded on her thoughts. She had three-way called them to relay the news of her attack and who the culprit was. They insisted on coming out to Richmond, but Elsa had reassured them that there was nothing either of them could do. When she mentioned that it was Victor who had been the one to save her, her mother had gone ballistic. Just as expected. Elsa had simply sat and listened to both of their bemoaning and lecturing for nearly half an hour. She didn’t even try to put up a fight or argue her case. There was no point. They were right. She was out of her head to be consorting with Victor and she damn well knew it.

When she mentioned her broken engagement to Nate, her mother’s miserable silence only made Elsa feel worse. She had tried to explain that she never loved Nate and whether or not Victor had been in her life to prompt her decision, it was for the best.

Finally, sleep found her.

"You tried to kill me."

Victor’s steady, deep voice broke through Elsa’s sleepy, haze-filled state. When she finally sat up, only the whites of his eyes shined in the darkened room.

"Don't." He growled when she reached for the lamp.

She swept the sleep from her lashes and tried to bring him into focus, but he was in the chair that faced the bed several feet away and his expression was unreadable.

"What did you say?"

The heater kicked on, breaking the eerie quietness.

"You tried to kill me,” he repeated without added gravity. "In my dream. You tried to murder me." A moment later his tone changed to annoyance. "Why would you do that?"

When he shifted, moonlight peeking through the window gave her only a split second glimpse at the stark, haunted look on his face. Frozen with a mixture of half-asleep emotions, her mouth hung open in confusion.

The stressed tone of his voice chilled the air. "Why would you want me dead?"

She pushed the comforter aside and sat up to try and reassure him. "It was just a dream."

"Maybe. Or maybe it was my gut instincts trying to warn me." He leaned forward, the shadow of his silhouette revealing his tired features and mouth thinned in displeasure. "Have I hurt you so badly that you hate me enough to want me dead?"

"I don't hate you."

A hush fell over them. The kind that made her nerves prickle with anticipation and dread. Even though she couldn't see him, she could feel his cynicism and doubt washing over her in waves.

"You should hate me. I've given you every reason to, so why the hell don't you?"

"I suppose, but people hate for different reasons. We’ve both done horrible things to each other… "

"You're going to sit there and tell me you don't hate what I've done to you?" He ground out in disbelief, cutting off her statement.

"That's a different question all together." Wakefulness had now fully taken a hold of her. "Of course I hate Mr. Black's actions, but I don't hate you, Victor, and that is who I'm speaking with, isn't it?"

"Victor, Mr. Black... Same Goddamn difference. I’m sick and fucking tired of trying to discern who’s who. Even you can’t decide if we’re one or two people. But just to entertain the ridiculous assertion that we are two separate entities, do you hate Mr. Black enough to want him dead?"

Perilously close to tears, the words that threatened to choke the breath out of her spilled out. "Since I can't have one without the other, and seeing as I clearly need Victor, it wouldn't make a whole helluva lot of sense to want Mr. Black dead, would it?"

She sat in silent anguish, hating herself for admitting her feelings. Hugging her body, she pulled her knees up to her chin to try and make herself as small as possible.

His body stiffened and the air around them crackled with tension. "You need me?"

The angst and fear in his question resonated through his softly spoken words and Elsa prepared herself for the inevitable: a cold, detached stare followed by his emotional and physical withdrawal. Shrugging, she moved toward the edge of the bed, ready to save him the trouble of having to dismiss her.

"You don't have to say it. I know what comes next."

In one beat of her heart, he was next to her, his arms encircling her and drawing her close. With a hand fisted in her hair, he pulled her head back, finally giving her a chance to look into the most devastating green eyes she had ever seen.

"You're free to leave..."

And there it was.

"But only if you want to."

***

Elsa’s hands found his tie and loosened it. Next, her fingers released each of the buttons on his shirt and tugged it off his back, along with his pants. As he stood naked before her, it seemed she had done more than just strip away his clothing. She had stripped away all the pretenses that he had worked so many years to build up. His hard, uncaring façade was now at his feet next to his clothing.

The dream of her murderous intentions was still fresh in his mind but her warm hands, calming touch and peaceful demeanor slowly eased his tension. He had fallen asleep at work and woken in a panicked sweat. It was because of his meeting with Anthony. It never failed that after speaking with him or seeing him face-to-face, his dreams would be tortured in some form or another.

But not anymore. Never again would he let Anthony affect him the way he had.

Anyway, he had plenty more demons to contend with and the knowledge that a serial killer was his father would just have to take a backseat. He had to get his mind right. It would be a long journey and one that he didn’t even know would be successful, but the way Elsa was looking at him so trustingly, he knew he wanted to get his shit together. Not just for her, but for himself. He was tired of living his life like this. Feeling guilty, feeling angry, feeling disgusted with himself… How long could a person go on living like that?

With Elsa snuggled up next to him, she reached a hand up to finger the scar under his chin. He winced at the unfamiliar sensation. No one had ever been allowed to touch that part of him, let alone question how it came to be. No one had been inside his head the way she had been either. Then again, he hadn’t really had a choice in the matter. Not really. He may have made the decision to give up his secrets, but it was done out of fear of losing her. And she had gotten inside his head out sheer stubbornness and morbid curiosity.

As she continued to run her fingertip along the line of his jaw, he could feel that dark part of himself itching beneath his skin. It wanted out. It wanted to push her limits and to fuck her painfully. It wanted to make her question her own sanity the way he questioned his own. It demanded she pay for forcing him to give up that part of himself that he had been protecting for so long.

As the gears turned in his head, her breathing deepened and within a few minutes, sleep found her.

Unable to rest, he crawled out of bed and did the thing that had become like second nature.

No matter how much I want to change, there will always be darkness lingering within me. That sort of personality trait doesn’t just manifest itself magically. It’s been there all along. Finding out who my father was and my experience with Chapter One only ignited the spark that lead to revealing my true self. And who am I really? Victor Laurenzo or Mr. Black? Both?

I wish I could go back in time and read the journals I wrote as a teenager. Maybe they would reveal something. Maybe they would remind me of what had once been good in me. I’ll never be able to see those written words again. Not on paper or in my head. I can thank my mother for that for having destroyed them. My experiences have changed me in a way that I can never go back to the man I once was and there’s no use in pretending like I can, so perhaps it’s for the best.

The textbook words of what a sociopath looks like can’t be denied. Charming. Delusional. Never wrong. No empathy. Plays the victim. Lies and cheats. Twists words. Has to win. Gaslighting.

Writing the words makes me sick beyond reproach. I’ve always used my charm to gain women’s trust. I’ve been delusional as to what his intentions are with my Chapters. I rarely admit to being wrong. I’ve treated my Chapters cruelly without empathy as to how I’ve made them feel. I’ve lied and cheated to get my way more times than I can count. I twist people’s words to fit my own purposes. My need to win has outshone all logic. The game my mother created and I’ve perfected is proof of that.

And gaslighting. I’ve been using psychological means to manipulate my Chapters into questioning their own sanity since the very beginning.

I am a textbook sociopath.

Or am I? I’ve never played the victim. Even though to some I might seem like one because of my past, I’ve never considered myself one. I’m simply the product of shitty circumstances and tainted DNA. I’ve also never done anything criminal, and I’m sure as hell not antisocial. Although what I’ve done to my Chapters is questionable and unethical, I don’t lack a sense of moral responsibility or social conscience. I know what I did was wrong. And I am remorseful .

26: Confronted

When Elsa woke the next morning, Victor was already gone, but the scent of aftershave and soap lingered in the air. A quick glance at the nightstand revealed a note.

I can’t spend another minute getting over hurting you. I need your forgiveness to move forward.

-V

 

Her heart nearly seized in her chest. Victor was pushing his way back into her heart. What had changed? Was this part of his game? It didn’t feel like it but she was so afraid to give her heart to him again. She couldn’t just hand it over like she did before. What if he let her down? What if he hurt her again?

She reached for her phone and dialed his number, but was sent to voicemail. Sending a text seemed too impersonal to respond to such a simple, heartfelt note.

When she arrived to work, she was shocked to find her mother waiting in her office. She looked terrible. Like she hadn’t slept. Like she was scared for her daughter’s life. Elsa immediately rushed to her and wrapped her arms around her.

“You shouldn’t have come, Mom.”

“Call it an intervention,” she gripped Elsa by the shoulders.

A genuine laugh slipped past her lips. “I don’t need an intervention. I just need you to try and understand where I’m coming from. I know you’re worried…”

“Worried is an understatement, El. How could you go back to him after what he put you through?”

Elsa looked away. She couldn’t bear to see the doubt in her mother’s eyes. She didn’t even know the whole story. She hadn’t even seen the scars. And she never would. The only person other than Victor who had seen them was Nate, and she had lied to him about how she had gotten them.

“Why didn’t you call sooner after being attacked?” Her mother demanded.

“I didn’t want to frighten you. And I’m fine.”

“This is insane,” her mother began chewing her bottom lip as her eyes welled up with tears.

Elsa pulled a chair out for her mom to sit in. “I know you hate Victor, but he saved my life that night. He fought for me.”

Her mother’s gaze sharpened and a look of pure rage flashed across her attractive, aged face. “What is it that man has over you to make you so blind?”

Elsa gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to speak in anger to her mother, but it really was none of her business. She was a grown woman.

“Is the sex that amazing, El? My God. You can find another lover. You’re smart and beautiful…”

“Seriously, Mom, just stop. It’s not about that.” How could she explain to her mom that what Victor gave her was a sense of power by controlling her? She wouldn’t understand. “I found another lover and look what he turned out to be – indifferent and cold. He asked for my hand in marriage and he didn’t even love me,” she swallowed a sob.

“Of course he did.”

“No, he didn’t. He admitted it.”

Her mother sat silently contemplating her admission. “Fine. Not Nathan. But why Victor? That man…” she tried to find the words as she looked around the room for divine inspiration. “Please, Elsa. Not him. That attack… I just know it has something to do with him. It’s too much of a coincidence,” tears streamed down her cheeks.

Her mother’s sixth sense was always spot on. Elsa knelt in front of her and wiped the tears from her face, stricken with the unconditional love she was witnessing. She loved her mother so much. To see her hurting was killing her.

It wasn’t a coincidence, but she didn't have the courage to tell her mother that. “Victor is different now,” she avoided the statement altogether. “He’s trying to change.”

She ran an agitated hand through her mussed hair. “No one ever changes, they just reveal their true selves.”

The intensity of her mother’s stare pounded her until she had to look away. The words she had spoken were the very same ones Victor had said on the day he had beaten her. Maybe they were both right, but Elsa refused to believe it. People could change if they wanted to. If they worked at it. If they made a genuine effort.

Just as Elsa stood, she heard the door to her office open. The scent that filled the room made the blood drain from her face. When she turned to face Victor, she fought the nausea that climbed up her throat.

His eyes immediately fixed on her mother. “Elise,” he acknowledged her.

“Agent Laurenzo,” she heard her mother’s whispered voice over her shoulder. Though her words were softly spoken and disguised with politeness, contempt laced every syllable.

Tension enveloped the room as the two silently battled with their gazes. Victor’s lips parted several times as if he wanted to say something, but no words came.

Finally, Elsa spoke up. “My mother has been traveling all night. I’ll be staying with her at my place…” she promptly shut her mouth when she heard her mother’s horrified gasp behind her.

“Have you been staying with him?”

“She’s safer at my place,” Victor’s words were smooth, low and disarming as he defended her actions.

“I doubt that.” Elise moved around to the front of the desk in the blink of an eye and came within inches of Victor. “Let’s get this out in the open, shall we?” His body swayed as he stared at her a moment, his expression unreadable. “I don’t like you. I never have. In fact, I detest everything about you. You hurt my daughter just like I knew you would…”

Elsa hurried to them to try and stop her mother from provoking Victor. “Please, Mom. Please…”

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing with her, but it ends today.”

Elsa was shocked at her mother’s words and her jaw nearly hit the floor.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told your son: that’s not your decision. It’s not mine either. It’s Elsa’s and Elsa’s alone,” his tone held an air of unequivocal authority.

Her eyes narrowed and their gazes locked. “Why can’t you just stay away from her? I’m sure there are plenty of women lining up for your kind of fucked up attention. Why can’t you…”

Elsa had never heard her mother speak so fiercely about anything. Not even her own father who had broken her mother’s heart by cheating on her.

The edge in Victor’s voice stopped Elise mid sentence. “Because I don’t want anyone else. Because…” his eyes darted quickly to Elsa as if afraid to admit what he was feeling. “I need her.”

Elise’s mouth drew back in a silent snarl. “What about what Elsa needs, you selfish son-of-a-bitch?”

The sudden tensing of his jaw showed the infuriation bubbling up in him. “I know you find it hard to believe, but I do know what she needs, so let it go, Elise. She’s with me. End of story.” The warning tone of his voice was deep and foreboding.

Her mother’s voice rose sharply and her face grew red with anger. “You don’t know a Goddamn thing except how to hurt people and take what you want!” In a flash, her hand came up, “You let her go!” and caught his cheek, leaving a red streak in its wake.

“Mom, no! Don’t do that to him!” Elsa put herself between them, horrified at what was playing out. Her heart was pounding and her knees shaking when she saw the fierce light in his eyes die out and the pained expression on his face. All she could imagine was how his own mother had treated him.

She pushed her mother back by the shoulders until she fell into the chair she had set out for her. When her mother tried to jump back up, she shrieked at her. “You have no idea what he’s been through!”

“I don’t need her to understand what I’ve been through,” he whispered wearily.

Elsa stood and moved toward him to try and console him. Instead of the pain she had sensed in him a moment ago, now there was just cool detachment as he began to withdraw. When he turned to walk out, she met him in the hall outside her office.

“I’m so sorry, Victor. God, I’m so sorry for what she did…”

He caressed her face with an unexpected tenderness. “Don’t be sorry. She loves you. I can only imagine what it feels like to have a parent care so much that they would risk being arrested for assaulting a federal agent. Not that I would ever allow that to happen,” he stopped to glance back into the office at her mother. “I deserved what she did. I deserve worse for what I’ve done to you.” His voice lowered and he let out a deep breath. “You said it yourself, Elsa: we’re all liable for our actions. I’m finally ready to accept that.” He couldn’t disguise the anguish in his eyes. “No one will ever understand what we have. I don’t expect them to,” his mouth brushed over her ear as he pulled her into an embrace. “I don’t care if they do.” His fingers laced through her hair, tugging on it gently. “I only care what you think. And that you forgive me.”

Ready to give him what he wanted, whether or not it was true, she opened her mouth.

His hand came up and silenced her. “Not yet. I haven’t earned it yet.”