30. TASTE OF INSANITY

30

TASTE OF INSANITY

YARA

“ T he usual, Doc?” Miranda asked when I walked into the Hot Cuppa. Irene had already left for her dorm after promising she would concentrate on her studies. The Strangler was only my responsibility. Not hers.

Morning sunlight danced on the gleaming glass display filled with breakfast delights. “Thank you, Miranda.”

“Of course.” She diligently prepared my coffee as I studied the pastries. Golden croissants with flaky layers. Cinnamon rolls drizzled with a cream cheese glaze. Muffins topped with fresh berries and cream.

She pumped extra dark chocolate drizzle on top, just the way I loved it. “Here you go. Want anything else?”

“The croissant looks delicious.”

“It’s to die for. I already had a bite.”

“Okay. Say less. I need one of those, with a side of cream and dark chocolate shavings.”

“To go, Doc?”

“No. I’ve some time to waste before work,” I said, tapping my shoes against the floor as she filled my plate with the buttery croissant.

I had known Miranda for a few years now, and she was always kind and warm. Her smile was the best thing I’d see every morning—it made me feel like the day was going to be better somehow. The way she called me Doc always brought a smile to my face. If I wasn’t who I was, I would have befriended her a long time ago. Being alone sucked. But pulling another person into the chaotic medley that was my life—oh, I couldn’t do that to Miranda. She was sunshine, and I was thunderclouds.

She’d be lucky to have a friend like you. Kat smiled.

Like you? You died!

Miranda handed me the plate of pastry with a smile. “Have a nice day, Doc.”

“You too, Miranda.”

She turned to the next one on the line and greeted her in her singsong voice. “Your order, ma’am?”

I walked out of Hot Cuppa toward the row of wrought-iron chairs placed along the sidewalk, surrounded by potted plants. Taking the chair at the very back, I closed my eyes for a second, inhaling the fresh smell of melted butter and roasted coffee beans.

Slicing the croissant and filling it with diced strawberries and a dollop of whipped cream, I took a bite with a delighted sigh. I was lost in my food when my phone rang. “Detective Rosario?”

“I’m calling to inform you that Victor’s body has been exhumed.”

“Let me know once you get your autopsy result, Detective,” I said, licking the cream off my fingers.

“I don’t have any doubt that your report is a hundred percent accurate. I won’t worry about this.”

“I’m not worried,” I said, biting into the last piece of my croissant. I hurled the crumpled coffee cup into the trashcan and walked toward my car. “I’m just sad that you’re wasting department resources on someone like Victor.”

“I know, but my hands are tied.”

He hung up. I was putting my phone down when it pinged again—a message from an unknown number. I instinctively knew who it was from.

The fucker was pushing me, playing me, but he wouldn’t win. He could try. If he thought he was going to break me, he had another thing coming.

Unknown: I have written my next letter, Yara. I’m just looking for a mailman to get it to you.

To me?! And Yara… he called me Yara, not K.Y. Wolff.

My fingers trembled, and my phone almost slipped from my hand. My head spun, and my eyes were filled with black stars. What did he mean? Were all those letters… for me?

Me: Who are you?

Unknown: You know who I am.

Me: The Strangler?

Unknown: I don’t like that name.

Me: What should I call you then?

Unknown: I will tell you when it is time. You look gorgeous in that blue dress.

Heart racing, I whirled around, my eyes scanning the crowd of people. Even if he was here, how the hell would I find him?

I walked to my car and got in. Pulling open my laptop, I opened the folder titled “The Strangler.” Most of his letters were online. Not fully, but pieces here and there, and I had painstakingly collected everything I could find and put them all together.

I had always thought that if I could just find his woman, I could find him. What was I supposed to do now?

The woman… Was it me?

If I was his love, he must be someone who knew me. How did he know me? Most importantly, did I know him? I read the letters, my eyes scanning over every word I already knew from memory. “How do you fucking know me?” I screamed, punching my fist against the steering wheel, and jumped back when the horn blared.

Cursing, I pulled my hand away, controlling my anger.

I couldn’t lose it now. I had to keep it together just until I found that bastard. And then I would rip his intestines out and strangle him with them.

“You think you can fuck with my mind? Play your games? No, not this time. Not this fucking time.”

After composing myself, I drove to work. As soon as I reached my office, I took the evidence bag and walked to the forensics lab on the second floor of the building. Amy smiled when I walked in, looking up from the file she was reading.

“Hey, Amy, good morning.”

“Do you need anything, Doctor West?” Amy asked, closing her file.

“I need to see if we have any fingerprints on this,” I said, pushing the evidence bag with the dollar bill to her.

“Related to a case?” she asked, looking curiously at the five-dollar bill.

I shook my head. “No. Personal.”

“Got it. I’m free today, anyway.” She walked toward her station, and I followed her, my heart thundering.

Could this be the break I’d been looking for?

She pulled her gloves on and carefully pulled the dollar bill using tweezers before placing it on the ALS scanner. The machine hummed to life, capturing the images.

After a few more minutes, she turned to me. “We got something here.”

She reached for a fine brush and a jar of fingerprint powder. I leaned in, watching intently as she delicately dusted the area, and soon, a print appeared on the surface.

“It looks good,” she said, her eyes fixated on the developing print. She applied a piece of transparent tape to the dusted surface and gently peeled it back with an excited smile. “And here you go. You want me to run it through AFIS?”

“Yes. Thank you, Amy,” I said with a smile. She entered the print on the database. “Did we get a hit?”

“Yes,” she said and pulled open the record. “The name’s Logan Jones. He’s got a prior,” Amy said, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “Graffiti vandalism when he was younger.”

“Graffiti?” I sighed. What did I expect? To find he had a criminal record with a rap sheet a mile long. Strangling women with a red garrote was a long leap from vandalism.

“Yes. That’s all it says here.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing else here, Doctor West.”

“Thank you so much, Amy. Can I get a copy of the record?” I asked. She quickly printed it out for me with a nod.

“Here you go, Doctor West.”

Thanking her, I walked out, feeling once again defeated.

But no… It wasn’t over yet.

The Strangler could run and hide, trick and play, but I’d never stop chasing.

Later that Sunday, I stood outside my house with Josh. I just received a call from Detective Rosario that Doctor Metha had finished the autopsy and found nothing new. I had also been looking around for The Strangler, and it was starting to make me restless and angry.

I was itching for another kill, but I couldn’t. Not so soon after Victor.

“Why are you all dressed up, Doctor West?” Josh smiled at me, tracing a finger down my cheek. “You always look so beautiful in whatever you wear, but tonight, you look even more beautiful,” he said. “You’re glowing.”

“I’m happy,” I said with a grin, adjusting my dress. “It’s something from work.”

“Good. I love it when you’re happy,” Josh said, and I felt a pang of guilt for doing this.

Josh was a good man, but I wasn’t a good woman. I knew I was using him to play my games with Ryden, but I was past caring by now. I wanted Ryden close, closer. The games had become boring. I needed the real thing now, or I would simply lose my sanity.

I never went out with Josh. Whenever he was here, we were locked up in the room—I never broke the rules. But tonight, I wanted more. I wanted Ryden to see me like this, to see me with someone else, and finally snap. I wanted him to snap.

My wine-red dress clung to my body in a seductive embrace, teasingly revealing. I knew he’d hate to see me with someone else, even though he had said no to me time and again. He proved it by using the vibrator when I threatened to call Josh.

Josh smiled, looking excited as I drove toward the club Onyx.

“I’m excited,” Josh said, almost bouncing in his seat. “You never want to go out.”

I parked the car in front of the entrance of the club. The exterior of the club was minimalist and modern, with sleek glass walls that reflected the city lights. The neon letters flashed above the building.

Handing my keys to the valet, who was waiting for me before I even exited the car, I walked inside the club, my heels making sounds on the black-tiled floor.

The lights, bright and flashing, almost made me wince as I weaved through the crowded club, my eyes scanning faces almost on instinct.

“Let’s indulge, shall we?” I asked Josh, moving toward the velvet-roped area of the club, with black walls and gilded trims. This was where everyone wanted to be, but only a few could afford to be.

Flashing my gold card that said VIP, I walked past the bouncer into the secluded part of the club. The music was much softer inside. Plush leather seating lined the abstract walls, creating intimate spaces for people who loved their privacy. There were small tables, each separated by partitions. Candles flickered on the tables, and the whole place was bathed in a pleasant scent.

“This place is… luxurious,” Josh said, his voice soft.

“It is,” I said as I moved toward the bar. The bartender gave me a welcoming smile that was familiar. “Miss West? Welcome back.”

“Thanks. Wine, please,” I said.

“Do you want to dance?” Josh asked, and I was about to say no when a prickling sensation crept up the nape of my neck, making my hair stand erect. I knew then.

He’s here. I was hoping he’d be here.

I could almost feel the heat of the gaze on my skin. When I looked around, I saw the familiar gray eyes glaring at me. Ryden.

My skin tingled in exhilaration as I pulled Josh closer to me, my body twisting around him. Josh was befuddled, but he didn’t stop moving.

I let the music wrap around me, allowing myself to actually enjoy the dance. Knowing that Ryden was watching me from the shadows made my stomach flutter and nerves tingle. I wanted him to come and take me.

Like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to him. My need for him was a dance between lust and madness. The excitement of these barely shared moments and games was fading. I wanted more, and I knew this would get me more.

Josh’s hand went to my ass as he pulled me closer to his erection. I smiled a little when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Possessive. Proprietary. Ryden’s fingers dug softly into my flesh, pulling out a wanton moan from me. Fucking finally! He made me wait for so long.

“You’re done dancing,” he said, his voice dripping with cold warning.

My legs trembled. I wanted to push him further to see what he might do. I wanted to break his restraints and pull his animal out. To see him the way I saw him that night months ago. It almost felt like a faded dream now.

“Why? I don’t think I’m done yet,” I said without missing a beat, trying to invoke the animal within him. I moved my body to the music, pulling a confused Josh along with me. After a few steps, Ryden pried Josh’s hand from my ass. His hand came to the back of my neck, tangled into my hair. With a tug, he effortlessly whirled me away from Josh, and pulled me against his body, his eyes screaming with envy. My heart rattled so loud I feared everyone could hear it.

Josh looked at me, eyes wide, as if he wasn’t sure what exactly was going on here.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I said, glaring at Ryden. His gray eyes were brewing storms, and his palms were in fists as if he was trying so hard not to punch Josh.

He let out a low growl, and my pussy reacted to that sound like a wanton hussy. I didn’t understand this attraction, but I acknowledged it.

“Do not make me angry, Red.” His voice came out in a dark, raspy growl as he pulled me closer to his body.

My stomach fluttered—if it was any other man, I would want his hand in return for daring to touch me, to order me, but this was Ryden. I shook my head, completely disgusted with my reaction to his voice, his growl, his attitude. But here I was.

“You’re an idiot, Ryden Sinclair,” I said, and he shrugged.

“Dance with me.”

“I was already dancing before you cut in like a rude…”

“No, you were goading. We both know you were goading,” he said, looking so sure of himself. “You wanted me to come and claim you for myself. That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

Fuck. FUCK.

He slipped his hand around my waist, tugging me closer to him, and Josh instinctively moved back. Ryden’s lips pulled down in derision. “Run along.” Ryden’s burning gaze met Josh, and he looked perilously close to exploding or fainting. It could go either way.

With a huff, he turned to look at me, his eyes petulant. I could see how offended he was by what Ryden did and said, but I was too lost in Ryden’s touch to care.

“What’s going on here, Yara?” he finally said, his eyes narrowing at Ryden, and for the first time, I saw a hint of anger.

“Let me tell you what is going on here. Your little outing is over. She’s mine, and no fucker will put his hand on what’s mine.”

“Asshole,” I muttered. He grunted, giving me one of those perfect brooding-grumpy looks he must have perfected in front of the mirror a million times.

“You can’t talk to her like that. You can—”

Ryden growled, cutting him off. Josh’s eyes went wide as he sputtered, his cheeks an ugly red. “Run now, boy, and pray that I won’t chase you and catch you,” Ryden said, his jaw clenched, his eyes made of angry comets burning through the night skies. “Don’t let me see you again.”

And that was enough for Josh to stumble back and almost run out of the room.

“Now that you’ve scared him away, what next?” I glared at him with a sarcastic smile. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

“Me? I’m the asshole here?” He looked disgruntled. “Let’s dance,” he whispered, digging his fingers into my hips and pulling me closer to him until there was no space between us. We swayed to the music; our eyes locked in a battle of wills.

“Okay,” I whispered. “We’ll dance. After that?”

He stared at me, his eyes glinting with something unexplainable.

“Hmm…” he trailed off. “Can we talk about that app?” he finally said with a frown on his kissable lips. I wanted to lean in and take his lower lips between my teeth and bite.

“What app?” I licked my lips.

“The one you sent me. Your sex app.”

I blinked. “Did I send you that? Hmm, I don’t seem to recollect that information.”

“You are maddening , Yara West. I don’t fucking know what to do with you,” he said in a gravelly voice, his hands tightening around me like bands of electric wire, and my whole body was charged with lust.

His eyes flashed hungrily when he looked at my lips.

“I know what you can do with me,” I said, my voice so soft it was almost buried in the layers of music, but I knew he heard it when he grunted something under his breath.

My hands trailed down his shoulder to his spine before I let them linger on his hard ass. His body clenched under my exploring hands. I rubbed myself against his growing erection. Dark eyes met mine, and a low, erotic growl left his lips as he squeezed my hips tighter.

“Fucking preposterous, Doctor West.”

It was as if Ryden and I were standing in a vacuum, and nothing existed in this soundless world. Just him and me. Our hands around each other, our bodies craving more, lost in a timeless void. I wanted this moment to stretch into eternity.

“I liked our games, Ryden. You know… when you saw me touch myself, when you used the gift I sent you, but I’m done playing. I want the real thing. I want your cock, now.”

He shook his head, his breath sharp, his eyes demanding.

I was burning, and there was just no way to stop the fire in me. Only he could help me with that.

He caught my wrist in his, pulling me along with him. His voice was a command when he said, “Let’s fucking find somewhere private before you kill me.”