10. Sophie

10

SOPHIE

I get off the phone with my mom. Since I didn’t tell her when I was getting married, she didn’t want to tell me when they’d be here.

I hang up in frustration and pinch my nose. This is going to be hell. Family visiting for the holidays is stressful in a normal situation. This is anything but normal.

At least my mom was kind enough to inform me how many people were suddenly coming. It’s going to be a full house of family members that I need to convince my fake marriage is real. My brother, his wife and kids. My aunt and uncle. And my mom and dad.

As much as I hate to admit it, Soren is right. We’re committed to this farce, and the only way to make it work is by making it look real. If my family found it was fake, they would flip. If they found out the reason why? Even worse.

I hear the basement door open, and Soren comes sweeping in. He’s in a great mood despite the task he was given.

Other people cleaned the bathrooms before the family arrived. We had to hide bodies.

“What did you do with them?” I ask.

“I wrapped them,” he says chipperly.

“Wrapped them in what?”

“As presents,” he says. I gawk at him. Apparently, he’s been hacking up body parts and wrapping them up in boxes with bows for the past several hours.

“What?” I ask. He moves past me into the kitchen and grabs a glass from the cabinet.

“I asked myself, what’s something people can see but aren’t allowed to look inside?”

“Soren, please tell me this is a joke. That you don’t have a pile of Christmas presents in the garage filled with decaying victims.”

“Their decay is minimal. Can’t smell a thing. But just in case, I got a pine tree spray.” He pulls the room spray from his pocket and gives it a little squirt. Suddenly, the room is filled with the scent of artificial pine.

“This isn’t happening. What was I thinking agreeing to marry you? Oh, that’s right, I didn’t want to die.” I slam my hands on the kitchen counter.

“I never threatened death or marriage.”

“It felt implied,” I snap.

“Hmm, sounds like an anxiety issue on your end.” He fills up his glass with water.

“Goddamnit, Soren. You kill people,” I hiss. “That’s definitely a you issue.”

“Well, wifey, now it’s a we issue. When’s our family arrive?”

“Can you not act so… okay with this?”

“You’re freaking out enough for the both of us.” He lifts his cup and takes a few gulps.

“You even seem excited,” I say in disgust.

“I am.” He smiles.

“Psychopath,” I grumble.

“Aww, that’s good. Pet names will help sell our love. Hey, why don’t you try it out?”

“Try what out? Pet names?” I ask. He sets his glass down and comes closer. His arm wraps around my waist, and he brushes a wavy lock of my hair from my face.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says. “Your family will be happy for us.”

“How can you be sure?” I squirm in his hold. Why did I let him grab me? He smiles warmly at me.

“Because I love you, so I know everything will work out,” he whispers. My mouth pops open.

“What?” I ask in a panic. Love .

“Come on now, Doctor Moore, you need to say it back. Your family has to believe it.” Shit, he’s acting. I felt something. Why would I react to him saying he loved me?

He leans forward and rubs his nose against mine. Too close. I can still taste his kisses from the other night.

“Soren, please stop,” I beg.

“Not until you say you love me,” he whispers. Our mouths are so close it’s almost harder not to kiss.

“Fine. I love you,” I spit out.

“Hmm, not good enough. Tell me again. Tell me you’ll never leave.” I can’t take this. My face is hot, and I hate that he can see my reaction. I take a deep breath.

“I’m not leaving, Soren.” The next part gets stuck in my throat.

“Not ever?” He asks.

“I’ll always be here with you and…” It’s still hard to say. It shouldn’t be. It’s just an act.

“Yes, Sophie?”

“I love you,” I tell him. It feels too raw as if I’m admitting a secret… as if I’m telling the truth. He pulls back, smiling down at me softly.

“That was sort of shit, you’ll need to work on it.” He picks his cup back up and chugs the rest. I stand there, absolutely confused by this conversation's effect on my emotions.

“There’s another issue,” he says, setting the glass down.

“Please,” I groan. “I can’t handle a single other issue.” He looks away and goes serious.

“Do you know how long your family will be here?”

“Through Christmas. A week, probably. She refused to tell me when they were getting in. Probably as early as tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He crosses his arms, and pale eyes settle on me. “One of two things can happen tonight.”

“Oh?” My voice breaks. I know where this is going. I pinch and pull at my turtleneck.

“I want to kill.”

“Right,” I say quickly.

“I really want to kill.”

“Soren,” I sigh. “Not right now.”

“Not ever again?” He asks with a cold voice. The tone is off-putting. He thinks I’m trying to stop him for good, and he doesn’t like that.

“Just… you need to hold off.”

“I need this before your family gets here. I’ll be good while they’re here.” This is not what I needed. Hiding a fake marriage, hiding bodies, and trying to control Soren’s need to kill while hosting my whole family?

“I’m here for you to use,” I say, turning away from him. I stare at the backsplash and try to think about things like Christmas dinner and buying gifts. But it's impossible, especially with his silence filling the air. I turn back around to face him, trying to put on an air of professionalism. I’m just talking to my patient, that’s all.

Soren’s looking out the windows at the valley. Continuing to push down his desire to kill is risky. I could be making it worse. The pressure is likely growing, and it might affect his future actions. I could be creating a more brutal and chaotic killer.

His pale eyes slid back to me.

“Okay,” he finally agrees. There’s a seriousness that sometimes comes over Soren that is nerve-wracking. It’s startling compared to the normally carefree man.

But like always, it slips away back under the surface as charming Soren comes back. He smiles nefariously at me, and it sends goosebumps up my arms.

“But if you really want to help me make it through this visit, then you’ll need to bear with some force.” My throat feels like it's closing up as he talks about it casually.

“ You , not me,” I remind him.

“Yes, I get that now.” He chuckles as if it's funny he accidentally ate me out. I shoot him an angry look.

“You’re absolutely adorable when you're pissed off at me. Ahh, Sophie, what would I do without you?”

“Probably wouldn’t even be killing people.”

“Maybe not, but I do feel better than ever, so don’t feel too bad about letting loose a serial killer into the world.”

“Ah yes, the serial killer's improved depression will help me sleep well at night.” That reminds me of the fact that I moved all my things into his room today, anticipating my family coming. I’ll be sleeping next to him for the next week once they get here.

“Anything else I need to know before tonight. Other than it’s your mouth that needs to do the work.”

“I…” I push past the immense flustered state this puts me in. “Still no sex.”

“Of course,” he says quickly. He grabs a banana from the counter, peeling it. I watch him as I keep thinking.

“No permanent marks,” I say softly. He slides the banana into his mouth, biting it off with a smile.

“Is that really it?” He asks. His smirk makes me wonder what he’s thinking. It’s terrible that it excites me.

“That’s it,” I tell him. His gaze is so heavy my legs feel shaky.

“Do you want details of what I’m going to do to you?” He asks before taking another bite of fruit.

“No.” I was scared the last time. I feared for my life. And I want to feel that again. He doesn’t have to know how much I’ve enjoyed it, though. The thrill of him coming for me is unforgettable. I fear that single time has already altered me. How could a cheap hookup offer me anything close to that?

“I’ll see you later then,” he says, tossing the peel in the trash. He reaches out and grabs my hand. His fingers rub my wedding band.

“As much as I love your mouth, I will kill again, Doctor Moore. Your body can only stop me for so long.”

“Okay,” I whisper. His eyes dip to my mouth.

“Maybe I should apologize early for what I’m going to do to you.” He leaves. I look around the empty room, feeling confused and jittery, unsure what to expect.