His Victim's Torment, page 8
part #1 of Jimmy Yates Duology Series
Devon was on the side of the pool, placing his badge and gun on a small table and moving it next to the water for easier access, if necessary. They didn’t need to worry about someone else coming into the pool and seeing the gun. He’d locked all the entry doors. For safety. He had his back to her, and she couldn’t look away from his bare muscles. Damn. She knew he was fit, but this is the first time she’s seen him partially dressed without a shirt. Water! She needed to get into the water.
He’d heard her come out of the locker room but didn’t want her to see him blatantly checking her out. He saw the suit she was planning on wearing. It left little to the imagination. Devon didn’t turn around to look at Mary until he heard a splash. Her towel dropped at the end of the pool, and she was gliding through the water with graceful form. And her exquisite little bottom wiggling with every kick. Come on, man, get it together. Looking up at the ceiling, he knew he was in trouble. He’d made it two weeks without making a move, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out. She was damn near perfect. Everything a man could ever want in a woman. She wasn’t only beautiful, but she was intelligent, strong, fierce, and independent, too. She was the whole package.
From the moment Mary got into the water, everything else disappeared. With each stroke, her worries dissipated, and the only thing left was the fluid motions of her gliding through the water. Concentrating on her breathing and stroke count, nothing else crossed her mind. For her, being in the water was like magic. It didn’t matter if the world was crumbling around her. When she was in the pool, she didn’t notice anything else. Not the stacks of papers to grade, lessons to plan, looming threats, or Devon watching her every move. There was only her, the water, and one lap after another. 1 – 2 – 3– breathe. 1 – 2 – 3– breathe. For a moment, she was free.
Chapter 9
Devon finally put a stop to the swimming. He moved to block her from making her next turn. Pulling her head up out of the water, Mary looked at the clock. Shocked by the time, she couldn’t help but wonder how they’d been in the pool for over two hours. “I’m sorry, you could’ve stopped me before this. I kinda get into a rhythm and block everything else out.”
He slowly shook his head. “You looked like you needed this. You’re a machine. It’s impressive. You didn’t break your stride or slow down in almost two hours. But, to be honest, I got bored after thirty minutes.”
She laughed, “thirty minutes, what have you been doing since?”
“Watching you.”
She thought he was joking, but when she looked at him, there was no humor on his face. There was something else there, and her heart gave a little flutter. She knew that look. And she felt it, too. Lust. The thing she wanted more than anything was to throw herself into his arms and never let go. Instead, her moronic conscience wouldn’t let her act on her feelings.
“Oh,” were the only words the mouth could form. Her heart raced. To remove herself from the situation, she quickly exited the pool and wrapped herself in a towel. Why was she suddenly feeling shy? She was determined not to let him see any signs of embarrassment, but that all went out the window when she saw the look of passion on his face, and her breath caught in her chest. Hesitating not a moment longer, she rushed into the locker room to change and head home before the bell rang and announced the end of the school day.
Dinner that night was, for lack of a better word, tense. Not that she would ever act on it. Devon was there to do a job. She had to keep reminding herself of that. He would go back home and move on with his life as soon as this was over. She felt bad enough having him there night and day for the last two weeks. He put his entire life on hold just doing his job, following orders.
If Yates had not targeted her, he would have been home living his life. She would never have had the pleasure of meeting the breathtaking Agent Devon Walker, and she wouldn’t be preparing to have her heart ripped from her chest when he finally left. It was pitiful. She knew she was falling in love with him. It should have been impossible to fall in love in two weeks, but somehow it was happening.
Devon cooked yet another scrumptious meal. Tonight, he made bacon-wrapped pesto pork tenderloin, jasmine rice, salad, and for dessert, white chocolate chip brownies with peanut butter swirls. Boy, this man could cook. She was going to hate takeout when he was gone. He was spoiling her with all these home-cooked meals. It was the healthiest she’s eaten since she lived at home with her aunt and uncle. Their personal chef would prepare every meal, and every meal was healthy. Even the snacks in the fridge and pantry were healthy. Her aunt insisted on it. “What are you thinking about, Mary?” he asked. “You look lost in thought.”
“I was just wondering how much longer it could be until they apprehend Yates. You must be getting anxious to get back to your regular life. I know this can’t be your idea of fun.” She wondered if she looked as despondent as she sounded.
He reached his hand over and placed it on top of Mary’s. “Sweetheart, there is no place I would rather be than right here with you,” he said with a smile.
Instead of coming up with a nice, tender remark in return, she said, “Oh.”
She quickly stood from the table and started collecting the dishes. She had a habit of turning into an embarrassed idiot any time he gave her the slightest compliment. Devon leaned back in his chair and enjoyed watching Mary get all flustered. Her cheeks turned red, and she was muttering to herself. He wondered if she even realized she did that when she was trying to work through something.
Something wicked sparked to life, and he found he wanted to see how red he could get her cheeks. If it was even possible, Devon thought Mary was even sexier when she was blushing. “Hey, Mary. Do you wanna play twenty questions?”
Surprised, she looked back at him. He had a weird look on his face. What was he up to? She raised an arched brow, skeptical as she asked, “what? Why?”
“Why? To give us something to do. I can skip watching Sports Center for one night. This’ll let us get to know each other a little better. Didn’t you ever play this game as a child? You have to answer the questions, so it’s very intrusive.”
“We have been stuck in the same apartment for two weeks. I think we know each other just fine.” She sighed with furrowed brows.
It took everything in him not to laugh. Her cheeks were a deep scarlet, and if it was even possible, she was becoming more irritated. “Okay, then you won’t mind playing?”
Determining she wouldn’t be able to make it to her bedroom and lock the door before he caught up to her, she gave in to his little game. “Fine. But we can play while I do the dishes. I don’t want to be up allnight cleaning the kitchen after we play your silly game.”
“Sure.” Moving towards the kitchen, he instinctively went to the wine fridge and pulled out a bottle of riesling. Over the past few weeks, he’d learned riesling was Mary’s favorite, and so he had Matthews pick up a few bottles of a good vintage. Devon poured the wine into two glasses and set one on the counter next to Mary. He stepped over and jumped up to sit on top of the opposite counter next to her, his glass in hand. His feet dangled, and he looked carefree, like a little kid waiting to get a treat.
Mary picked up the glass of wine next to her hand and looked up at him, a question hiding in her gaze. “What’s this for?”
Devon tried to look innocent. “What? We can’t enjoy good wine?”
“You’re up to something. I know for a fact that you prefer Lagavulin Scotch. I’ve not seen you drink anything else since we met. Matthews brings you a new bottle every time he brings us groceries. So, what’s with the change?”
He lifted the glass to his lips and tipped it just enough that the wine barely touched the tip of his tongue. “I wanted something a little lighter tonight, and, damn, this is good.”
His mischievous mood wasn’t lost on her, but she tried her best not to let him see how turned on he made her with his little teases. He was in a rare mood indeed. She lifted the glass to her nose and found the fragrant aroma pleasantly surprising. “Fine. Thank you for the wine. Now let’s start your silly game. The sooner we start, the sooner we can get this over with, and I can go to bed.”
“Great. I’ll go first,” he said. He wanted to start her off slow. “Do you have any phobias?”
She placed another plate in the dishwasher, taking only a moment to think of her answer. “I absolutely love the water, but I’m terrified of dark water. The thought of not knowing what’s beneath me when I’m in the water scares the hell out of me. And I don’t just mean ocean water. My aunt and uncle used to take their boat up the Chesapeake, and far enough up the river, it turned into fresh water. So, nothing to worry about, right? Wrong.
“That’s where I learned to water ski. One time, after I fell off my skis, I felt something brush my leg. I’ll tell you what, I damn near walked on water until I got back onto the boat. I found out later that day that a fisherman caught a bull shark in that same area just a week earlier. Never before did I know a shark could survive in freshwater. The bull shark, apparently can, and that damn well could’ve been what brushed my leg. Ever since that day, I’ve been very anxious in water that’s not crystal clear.” She twisted her face in thought, scrunching her nose to focus. “Okay, my turn. Why did you pick the FBI?”
That one was easy. “Being an FBI agent runs in the family. My father, and his father before him, were all FBI agents. It would’ve shocked my parents if I’d chosen any other career. My parents told me that most of the games I played as a little kid revolved around the FBI. Instead of cops and robbers, it was agents and robbers. I enjoy helping people and being the one to take bad guys off the street. An FBI agent is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to be. My turn,” he said. “Out of all the careers you could have gone into, why forensic psychology?”
“As you can imagine, what happened to my parents really messed me up. For years, and I guess even today, I’ve been trying to figure out why it happened to them. Had they met Yates somewhere in their past, or just caught his attention on the street? And why did he do it? What makes any person have the desire to kill another human, let alone keep killing? Is it a sickness, a chemical imbalance? Do they just get a taste for it? I know what the textbooks say, but I don’t always agree with them. My goodness, it’s never ending. The authorities catch one psychopath, and two more sprout up. I just wish I could cut open their brains and learn all their secrets. Then, maybe, I’d be able to help the authorities stop it from happening again and again. Okay, me again.” She wanted to change the subject before she became too emotional. “Why did you volunteer for this assignment?”
“What assignment?” He asked. He was too busy watching the play of emotions on Mary’s face to concentrate on what she was saying.
“This one, watching me. Keeping me locked away… I mean safe.”
“Actually, I didn’t volunteer, I was voluntold. The chief ordered me to and there was nothing I could say to get out of it. And before you can get any crazy negative thoughts in that beautiful but stubborn head of yours, just know this: now that I’m here, I’m glad he made me do it, because it meant getting to know you. And the chief wanted the best agent for the duty, and he picked me. Because I’m the best.”
“Conceited much?” She laughed. Without finishing the dishes, she refilled their glasses and moved toward the living room. If he was going to keep digging, she at least wanted to be comfortable through the ordeal.
“Okay, my turn again. If you could be anything in the world, what would it be?” He asked.
She took a moment to think about it. In the last few years, she had often battled with the option of changing her career field. After the terror she endured as a child, it was sometimes a torture in and of itself to study serial killers. “Um, I think I’d be a photographer. I’ve always loved to travel. My aunt and uncle tried to take me to a different country every year. I have so many photo albums of our travels. Most of the pictures are of the beaches in those countries, but I photograph what I love. Hopefully, someday soon, I’ll be able to go back to some of those places. Now that I’m a little older, I feel I’d have a better appreciation for other cultures.”
“I’ve never really traveled much. Maybe one day you can take me along and show me some of your favorite places. It would be an adventure.”
There he was again, talking like they had a future together. This man was so confusing. What could it hurt to hope? It could hurt a whole awful lot to hope. “What about you? What would you be if you could be anything else but an agent?”
“That’s easy. In the back of my mind, I always thought I’d be a pretty badass zookeeper.”
“Really, a zookeeper? I can see it now, you in a polo shirt, those tight little tan shorts, and white socks that go up to your knees.” She was laughing so hard tears ran down her cheeks.
“Yep. Like Steve Irwin. And I’d rock those shorts, by the way. One summer when I was little, my parents took my brother and me on a trip to different zoos and aquariums in the surrounding states. I remember being at one aquarium and we had to line up behind a roped off area because a zookeeper was about to walk the penguins through the halls. Being a little kid, I thought that was the most amazing thing in the world. I made my parents wait around the aquarium until it was time for the penguins to make the return trip through the halls and back to their enclosure.
“That memory always stayed with me. I even used to fantasize about dressing up like a big bad lion tamer, then following behind me would be these adorable little penguins. My brother used to make fun of me all the time, but I didn’t care. That zookeeper looked like he had his dream job. He had a big smile on his face the whole time the penguins were on their march. Looking back at that day, I envy that zookeeper. I’m sure his job has its stresses, every job does, but waking up every day knowing you get to play with those adorable animals would make the hard days well worth it.”
She didn’t know what to say. Whatever she was expecting his answer to be, it surely wasn’t that. His eyes showed a longing she’d never seen in him before. Devon’s life would be so much different if he didn’t follow in his father and grandfather’s footsteps and had become that zookeeper that had caught the attention of a bright-eyed little boy.
He hadn’t thought about those penguins for many years, and he suddenly had an urge to go to the aquarium. Maybe when this was all over, he’d take Mary and they could experience the penguins together. He didn’t want to dwell on what could’ve been, so he rushed to the next question. “Me again. If money wasn’t a factor, how would you want to spend the rest of your life?”
“Gosh, Devon, you’re getting deep. But okay, I’ll bite. If money wasn’t a factor, I’d buy a tropical island. It would need to be big enough for my entire family and their families to live on. Like a homestead, but on an island. You already know I love the water, but the important thing about the island would be security. I’d want there to only be one way on and off the island. Maybe from the outside, it would look to be completely surrounded by an impenetrable rock wall, but there would be one secret entrance. You just wouldn’t be able to find it unless you already knew about it. My family and I wouldn’t need to worry about the horrors of the world. We would just be able to enjoy life. We could live without the drama of politics, social conformities, violence, public disturbance, and so much more. Just peace. I know it’s naïve to think that I’d be able to go anywhere in this world and not be affected by its horrors, but I’d try my hardest not to let it affect my little part of the world. My paradise, my safe haven.”
“And you said I was deep. I’d like to live on that secluded island with you. It sounds like paradise. Just being able to get away from the politics that shape how we’re allowed to live our lives would be the ticket for me. You’d probably get bored pretty quick with your little island paradise, though. You appear to be a person who demands purpose. If you have everything handed to you, you’d lack that necessary purpose.”
He was one hundred percent correct in his assumption. She did need purpose in her life, which is why she chose her career field. But damn, her little island paradise sounded tempting right about now. She decided to forget about what he just said, and dive back into their game. She’d never admit it to him, but she was rather enjoying his questions. “I have one that might amuse you. If you could star in a movie, what movie would it be?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “That is a great question. I think I’d like to be in a horror movie, maybe something like Halloween.”
“Really? Halloween? That’s not really your normal shoot ‘em up action movie.”
“Yeah. Why not? I do have other tastes in movies besides action. There’s so many, it’s normally easy to find one playing on the TV. But I love horror movies. Well, slasher movies. I’m not such a big fan of popout and scare you movies like Darkness Falls or Silent Hill. Or movies with little kid ghosts, no thank you. And Michael Myers is a king in his movies. He can just walk as slow as he wants, and he still catches his target. And he can’t die. There are how many now? Like a million Halloween movies? And Michael is still walking around killing people with a big ass knife. He’s invincible.”
It was refreshing to hear Devon talk like this. He gave her a warning look when she burst out laughing, but he said nothing in defense.
“My turn.” He hesitated with his question, looking like he was debating asking it. “Why aren’t you married?”
“Married? I guess I haven’t found the right person yet. Don’t get me wrong, I have dated, but men seem to get turned off when I tell them I pry into the minds of insane killers. Some of them have actually looked at me like I was the insane one. And that’s all before they know about my blemished past.
