14. Sophie

14

SOPHIE

S oren leaving didn’t concern me until I woke back up in the early morning, hearing the soft crunch of gravel on the driveway. I shoot up and look beside me. No one slept there last night.

“Shit.” He was gone all night. What set him off? Was it me in the dumbass heat of the moment asking him to shove his cock in? Look at me, continuing to motivate a serial killer instead of demotivating one. I wrap a robe around myself and slip out of the room. No one is up yet, but I hear soft creaks upstairs, alerting me that people are starting to move around.

Quickly, I open the door to the underground level and pad down the stairs with my fuzzy, grippy socks. I walk through the unfinished game room and then rip open the garage door.

Soren’s standing there with a look of shock, frozen in place, as I catch him pulling a body towards a stack of presents. I close the door behind me softly, then stomp towards him.

“I had a moment of weakness,” he says, dragging the body. I accidentally step on its hand as I get closer to Soren.

“Ugh,” I groan, looking at my sock, but thankfully, there’s no blood.

“We both knew this was going to happen again at some point,” he says.

“While my entire family is here?”

“Oh! The pastries are on the passenger side. Let me get this guy chopped up and wrapped, and I’ll bring those up.”

“No, Soren, no! You can’t do that.”

“Why? Please tell me we aren't out of wrapping paper,” he groans. “We already ran out of boxes yesterday.” I look over at the pile of “presents” he wrapped, and some seem oddly shaped like calves and feet. I let out an exasperated sound.

“You are not allowed to kill while my family is here. This isn’t good, Soren.”

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t need to let off some energy if someone wasn’t begging for me to stick it in,” he shoots back. My mouth drops open, and my face flames with heat.

“You started that,” I hiss, jabbing his chest. I accidentally step on the corpse again.

“Stop stepping on him, I’m going to drop it,” Soren complains. I hear creaking upstairs.

“Ugh, okay, I’ll take the pastries upstairs while you chop up the body. Do not put any pieces in the freezer.”

“Wait, are we really out of wrapping paper?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” I wave him off as I lean in his truck. I pull out a couple boxes of pastries and a bag filled with bags of roasted coffee beans from the bakery.

“Hey,” he calls out, dropping the body. He comes over and gets the door for me.

“Thank you,” I murmur as I pass by him. He gently grabs my arm.

“I don’t want to do what we did last night anymore,” he says.

“Okay.”

“We’ll convince your family we’re in love without any more of that.”

“We will?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. He smiles down at me.

“Yes, elskling . I’ll prove to them I adore you.” He brushes my hair behind my ear and then slips back into the garage with the corpse.

It’s for the best that we don’t get physical like that again. There are rules, and that felt like it was breaking them entirely. I sigh on the way up from the basement with breakfast. The antsy disappointment gets shoved down where I can ignore it. A moment later, I deposit the pastries on the kitchen counter and start the coffee machine.

My family begins slowly wandering in, the earliest wakers to the slower risers. The smell of rich, quality coffee and sugary dough draws them into the kitchen, some brighter-eyed than others.

It snowed again last night. It's a soft, fluffy snow that makes everything outside look idyllic.

“Did Soren get this?” My little nephew asks, shoving a sprinkled donut in his mouth.

“He did.”

“Where is the big guy?” My Uncle asks, pouring a generous amount of eggnog-flavored creamer into his coffee mug.

“Chopping wood,” I say. My Aunt wanders in, looking ragged.

“Where at? I want to watch.”

“Don’t say that in front of Uncle Dan,” I chastise.

“No, I want to watch too,” he mumbles. He takes a big drink of coffee while my Aunt walks over and rubs his back. “That’s a fine-looking man.” Well, learn something new about family every holiday, don’t you?

Unfortunately, they couldn’t watch him chop wood since wood was a euphemism for a human body.

“It’s his alone time.”

“Are you pregnant?” my mom asks as she comes into the kitchen. Despite being last here, she was clearly the first awake because she's all showered, make-uped, and ready to go.

Half the coffee in my mouth ends up spewing over the floor. My Aunt and Uncle leap backward, avoiding it.

“No!”

“More like not yet. Be lucky you aren’t in the room above theirs,” my Aunt says. I run to the paper towels and then get on the floor, mopping up the mess. At least it means I don’t have to look at anyone.

“How long is he chopping for? The tubing lanes open in an hour. He said it’s best to get there early.” I sigh and look at the microwave clock. I’m disappointed that I know how long it takes him to chop a body.

“Any minute now, depending.”

“Depending on what?”

How long it takes him to wrap all the body parts. I shrug at my dad. My brother tries to open the freezer, and I lunge at the fridge.

“Don’t!”

“Woah. What’s the deal? I just want ice.”

“Get it from the dispenser.” Everyone’s looking at me weirdly.

Soren pokes his head in the kitchen. I lean over and take a look at the rest of him. My eyes bug when I see he’s covered in blood.

“Honey!” I wheeze, pushing him from the kitchen. “You’re dirty; don’t get near the food,” I growl out, dragging him to the bedroom. The door closes, and I drop him.

“Soren,” I sigh.

“This is what was missing last night,” he says, looking at me with a broad smile. “I’ve come to enjoy your exasperation while killing.” I frown at him and then realize he’s got a black eye that’s rapidly getting darker. My eyes bug.

“Did he hurt you?” I ask. He looks taken aback by the question.

“It was a pretty hands-on fight.” He lifts his shirt to reveal perfectly sculpted abs decorated with bruises. “Want to kiss it better?”

“Fuck you,” I mumble, turning away. He drops his shirt and chuckles.

“I’ll be out soon. We’ll tell them I went in on call last night and got the shiner on the mountain.”

“Fine,” I sigh. He leans forward and presses a kiss to my nose. I jerk back in shock. “Let me shower so I can get out there and convince everyone how much I love you.” I’m looking at him with bugging eyes.

“You need to work on your reaction,” he says

“Yeah, I guess so,” I say, still a little shell-shocked by the casual affection. He steps closer and dips his mouth to my ear. I feel the brush of his fingers move up my neck.

“Whenever you feel like tensing, just remember to relax,” he whispers low. His thumb rubs my throat like it does when he’s in my mouth. “You’re really good at that.”

He pulls away and closes himself in the bathroom. Today might be worse than last night. My stomach is fluttering.

Please don’t fall for your client, the serial killer.