The taskmaster, p.21
The Taskmaster, page 21
When was this going to end?
When I was dead, probably.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
ISAIAH
Ajawbone, a femur, more metacarpals and phalanges than anyone could need. I sat on the floor of my apartment looking at the trophies I’d collected over the years, all scattered around me. I needed to get some ribs next. Maybe a skull to match the jawbone.
I picked the jawbone up and held it in front of me, smiling as it smiled back.
“Death suits you,” I told it, then I placed it back on the floor in front of me. “It should have come for you sooner, though.”
From my position on the floor, I could see my monitors, and as I saw Abigail walking through the hallway of her building, and letting herself into her apartment much earlier than she was due to come home, I knew something was up. She looked nervous, on edge as she peered around her apartment and started biting her nails. It was time for me to leave.
I put my trophies back on my mantlepiece, right next to the lock of her hair. And then, as I grabbed my helmet, I tapped into the app for the listening device I’d fitted underneath her desk at work.
I clicked play, and when all I heard was white noise playing back at me, I almost threw my phone across the room.
“Fucking piece of shit technology,” I cursed.
The bug had obviously malfunctioned, and now, I didn’t have a fucking clue what had happened at her work, or why she’d left and raced back home to pace her living room like she was waiting for the end of the world.
I needed to be closer.
I put on my helmet and jumped on my bike, then roared off, racing to get across town.
Something in the pit of my stomach told me things weren’t right. And after her intruder had made himself known more than once, I vowed I was staying put this time. Tolley had been dealt with. My apartment could sit empty for a while. I had to find somewhere to crash that was as close as I could get to her.
I pulled into the street where she lived and then veered onto the forecourt. I decided to park at the rear of the building, so I was out of sight. I cut the engine, but kept my helmet on in case I saw her nosy neighbour opposite. Then I walked around to the front of the building and let myself in.
I stood for a moment, staring at the post boxes in the foyer. All the boxes were labelled in some way, hers with her name. I pulled out the scrap of paper with her name on and crumpled it into a ball, shoving it in my pocket. Then I noticed one box was blank. Number fifteen. It was on the same floor as Abigail but a few doors down from her.
Was it empty?
There was only one way to find out.
I started to climb the stairs, checking my pocket to make sure I had the syringe of sedative ready in case I needed to use it. When I reached her floor, I walked with my head down until I got to number fifteen. It was on the opposite side to Abigail’s, but close enough that if I needed to get to her, I could be there in thirty seconds. Probably sooner.
I glanced up and down the hallway, then started to pick the lock. When it opened, I stepped inside and closed the door.
I stood still for a moment, listening for any signs of life, but there was none. So, I walked further into the apartment and started to look around. There was an old leather sofa in the living room and a worn-out rug in front of it. The kitchen appliances still had electricity, and there were some beers chilling in the fridge. But the rest of the apartment was empty. No bed in the bedroom. I was lucky though. I had somewhere I could watch her, and there was no need to take anyone captive do that. Well... I could’ve taken her captive, I guess. At least I’d know she was safe then, and if I was honest, that option was still on the table. But for now, I wanted things to progress naturally, like I’d seen on TV. Like it did for normal people. But I could engage the crazy at any moment, if I needed to.
I sat down on the edge of the sofa and took my phone out, so I could watch her inside her apartment. It would’ve been more helpful if I’d brought some of my screens from home and set them up in here, had them playing constantly so I could follow her, but I’d come here on the off chance that I could access somewhere that wasn’t a bloody maintenance closet. Now I was here, I could plan my strategy better. Set up an observation room that was more useful.
I took my phone out to watch her again, turning the volume up, and she was sitting on her sofa, eyes wide, with her hand over her mouth as she stared at the TV.
Emergency services were alerted to a house fire on Comberton Lane late last night, and as yet, the owner, Angela Maynard, has not been located. Officers believe the fire was started deliberately, and we spoke to a local resident at the scene.
“The flames lit up our bedroom, and it woke me up. I looked through the curtains and saw the place going up. I told my wife to call the fire brigade. But by then, it was too late.”
“Do you know the lady who lived there very well?”
“She kept herself to herself, but we know she had financial troubles. If you ask me, she did it for the insurance...”
Abigail picked up her TV remote and switched if off. Then, she dropped the remote on the sofa beside her and ran her hands over her face in bewilderment. I don’t know why she looked so worried. The guy speaking on the TV said he thought the homeowner had set fire to the cottage herself. They probably thought she’d done a runner, too. I knew that wouldn’t hold weight for long. They’d see she hadn’t accessed her bank accounts soon enough and assume she was dead, but without a body, they were fucked. It was a win-win for us, whatever way you looked at it.
Abigail stood up, sat back down, and then she started scrolling through her phone, and I knew she needed a distraction. She didn’t know what to do with herself.
So I fired off a text.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
ABIGAIL
Ifelt lost. I was torn between following my head and my heart. My head told me I should go to my parents or even hide away completely. Go somewhere they couldn’t find me. But my heart said, ‘You’ve come this far, Abi. Don’t fall at the final hurdle. You’re so close to this all being over.’
But when would it be over?
And how the fuck was this going to end?
Because, when all was said and done, I’d started this without thinking about that. It was a situation I was dreading. He was targeting my work. He knew where I lived. He wanted me gone. I was a loose end that’d come out of the woodwork, and now, he wanted to wipe me out for good.
Dread pulled on my insides like hooks in a carcass swinging in an abattoir. I tried to ignore the stabbing pains of impending doom as I sat watching the local news on the TV. The reporter was interviewing a neighbour, who thought the fire had been an insurance job. But it was all too convenient. This wouldn’t go away so easily. I knew it.
How long before they traced it back to me?
What if the body in the lake was found?
How would I explain that to my parents?
I couldn’t bear their disappointment. No, strike that. The utter devastation that the daughter they thought they knew was a monster.
I threw my TV remote onto the sofa and let out the longest sigh, running my hands over my face and wishing my life didn’t hurtle from one shitstorm to another. I picked up my phone and started to scroll to find a distraction, and that’s when his message popped up.
Isaiah
I liked playing games with you yesterday.
How did he do it? Always swooping in when I least expected it, finding ways to distract me. A grin crept over my face despite everything. I couldn’t deny he was a distraction that was interesting, fun, and being with him last night had been an experience that’d been replaying on a loop in my head since I’d woken up and found those dice.
Me
You liked winning.
The three dots started to dance on my screen, showing he was responding right away.
Isaiah
I do. Fancy playing again?
Did I? Was losing myself in a man like Isaiah exactly what I needed right now, or was this something I might regret later down the line?
Me
I’m a bit busy today. Work is manic.
I started second-guessing myself as I waited for a reply. And when someone knocked at my door, I almost jumped out of my skin.
I shot up off the sofa and walked to the door, then hesitated. I wished I had a spy hole to look through to see who was knocking.
“Who’s there?” I asked, debating whether to duck into the kitchen and grab a knife from the drawer for protection.
“It’s me,” he said, his dark, deep voice sending chills down my spine, making the stabbing pains inside turn to sparks of anticipation.
I unlocked the door and opened it just a little, and there he was, standing outside my door, holding a carrier bag, with his head tilted in that way he always did and a shit-eating grin on his face. His eyes darkened with a wicked shimmer as he said, “I think someone needs to remember who the fuck they are.”
“What do you mean?” I narrowed my eyes at him, keeping the door ajar, making him work for it.
“I mean, you left work early. Don’t ask me how I know, just accept that I do. And now, you’re sitting in here debating your life choices and stressing over every little detail.” He took a breath and lowered his face a little to give me a more intense stare. “Am I right?”
“I am allowed to do that,” I replied defensively.
“You are. But you shouldn’t.” He moved closer to the door and asked, “Are you going to let me?”
“What happens if I don’t?”
His low, sultry snigger made the sparks inside me fire hotter.
“I do like a challenge.” He glanced down at the lock. “I think I could pick that in under two minutes.”
“It’s a brand-new lock. The best on the market.”
“So I’ve heard.”
The way he smirked was so cocky, but that smirk did things to me, and right now, I needed to forget everything. Maybe he was my lucky charm, sent to pull me out of the horrors of my life and into the deliciously dark and twisted world that he’d appeared from. A tailor-made devil ready to take my hand and walk me on my path to hell.
“I suppose you could come in for a little while,” I said, trying and failing to sound nonchalant as I pulled the door open.
“I think we’ll need longer than a little while,” he retorted, walking past me and leaving a cloud of sandalwood in his wake. I took a deep breath as I closed the door, hoping he didn’t see me. God, I loved that smell. And on him it was delicious.
He took a seat on my sofa, put the carrier bag on the floor at his feet, and sat back, spreading his legs wide and putting his arms across the back, settling himself in like he lived here.
“Comfy?” I raised a brow, and he mirrored my expression.
“Almost.” He tilted his head to gesture to the space next to him. “I’ll be better when you stop biting your nails and pacing the floor and come and sit with me.”
I moved my hand, not even conscious of the fact that I was biting my nails. I didn’t want him to think I was nervous.
“Why did you come home early?” he asked, leaning forward and regarding me with curiosity.
“I had the afternoon off.”
He narrowed his eyes, pointing at me as he said, “Do you know, when you tell lies you touch the back of your neck?”
The hand I had rested at my nape shot downwards, and my heart started pounding. I had no idea I did that.
“I’m not lying,” I replied, cursing the fact that my voice sounded whiney and disingenuous. “I took some time off.” That was closer to the truth. No lies there. “And I wanted to stay here and rest. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
He nodded, grinning to himself, then he rubbed his hand over his jaw.
“I make no apologies for that, but I think something’s bothering you. Is it the old witch from last night? Because you know that’s dead and buried, right?”
“No. It’s not that.”
“You really like making me work for it, don’t you?” He sat back again. “If you’re not ready to talk, then I think we should play a game.”
“What’s the game?” I asked, glad of the distraction, excitement and nerves spiking.
“Sit down here and I’ll tell you.” He patted the space on the sofa beside him.
I paused for a moment, then sat down and turned to face him.
“Am I gonna get the chance to win this time?” I asked, and he held my gaze as he replied, “This one is a total winner for you. But first, we need to relax a bit.”
He reached down into the carrier bag he’d brought in and pulled out two bottles of beer. “Got a bottle opener?”
“Of course.” I stood up and went to the kitchen, took the bottle opener out of my drawer and walked back in. “Isn’t it a bit early to start drinking?” I asked as I sat down and passed him the bottle opener. I wasn’t resisting that hard.
He looked at the watch on his wrist, then shrugged. “It’s five o’clock somewhere. And both of us have the afternoon off. It seems a shame to spoil it.”
We started to drink, and before I knew it, it was getting dark outside and I had drunk way too much.
Chapter Forty
ISAIAH
Bringing the beers from the empty apartment had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, but I was glad I did. I never thought I’d be sharing a beer with another human being. I hadn’t done it before; it was something other people did. I wasn’t really the sit-down-with-others-and-shoot-the-breeze-over-drinks kind of guy. I was more a shoot-them-dead guy, but surprises were springing up from every angle these days. And I had another first with Abigail to add to the list.
The more she drank, the cuter she got, with her rosy, red cheeks and innocent little giggles.
“You’re a bad influence,” she sniggered, pointing her finger at me, before taking another sip of her beer and emptying the bottle.
“Never claimed to be anything else,” I replied, and I fixed her with a stare to let her know it was time to take things up a notch.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” The blush on her cheeks spread to her neck, and when she licked her lips, I knew I was done for.
“Like what, Abigail?” I lifted my bottle and drained it as I kept my eyes on her. Then I put it on the coffee table and sat back, placing my arm on the back of the sofa.
“Like you’re about to eat me?”
I couldn’t stop the smirk on my face from spreading wider, and with hooded eyes, I glared back at her. “It’s funny you should say that, because I haven’t told you what game we’re playing yet.”
She swallowed, nervously peeling the label off the empty bottle she was holding. I reached forward and took the bottle from her hands, placing it next to mine on the table.
“Go on,” she said, and I watched her for a moment, savouring the feeling of being totally at ease with another person. So at ease, that I didn’t want to hold back anymore.
“This game is called How Many.”
She frowned. “How Many what?”
I slid across the sofa to move closer, and my desperation for her felt like a palpable entity. My need a fire that was sparking between us, making me feel alive. I knew she felt it too, I could tell by the way her eyes grew wider as she gave a sharp intake of breath and stared back at me, waiting.
“How many orgasms I can give you in one night,” I said, putting it out there. I wasn’t going to filter myself or hold back.
“That sounds like an... interesting game.” She hiccupped, and I narrowed my gaze, asking her, “Are you sober enough to do this? Consent is important to me.”
She nodded, biting her lip.
“I’m sober enough to say yes.” She held her thumb and forefinger together, leaving a tiny space between them. “And this tipsy to know I want to play your crazy game.”
“That’s good to know,” I replied, manoeuvring myself, forcing her to lie back on the sofa so I could hover over her. I leaned into her, inhaling the delicious scent of her neck as I whispered, “I want to find out every way I can make you scream. I want to touch, taste, and fuck you until your whole body is shaking, you lose control, and I become...”
“The master?” She finished the sentence for me.
“Exactly.”
I started to kiss her, stroking my tongue against hers as my hand slid from her thigh up to her waist. She kissed me back, giving the sexiest moans as she did, moans that made my balls ache and my dick throb. If she kept it up, I’d be coming in my pants.
I trailed kisses from her mouth to her neck, sucking on her delicious skin, and then moved slowly down her chest to her tits. She was wearing a white blouse with buttons up the front, and I sat up, taking either side of the blouse in my hands and ripped it open. The buttons flew everywhere, and I watched as she panted, her chest rising and falling as she waited to see what I’d do next.
I leaned down, opening my mouth and taking her bra-covered nipple into my mouth and bit down. She gasped and pushed her chest forward, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to bite into her skin, mark her as mine. I slid my hand up her back to unhook her bra, then pushed it off her tits and clamped my mouth over her nipple, sucking and biting her until she was writhing underneath me. I sucked hard, using my teeth and tongue to stimulate her, and her nipple pebbled in my mouth as she moaned and begged for more.
I let her nipple pop out of my mouth and moved to the other one, biting it, licking and then blowing gently before I sucked it into my mouth. I used my hands to massage her tit as I went to work on her nipples, sucking and licking over and over until her moans became more needy and she started to rock her hips against me. I knew she was close.
