“What you’re feeling is normal…”

What the hell did he know about how she was feeling? She couldn’t even explain it herself. She was anything but normal and she just wished he would stop saying that.

He grabbed a pen lying on her desk and wrote something down on a piece of note paper. “Look this term up on the internet later. It’ll help you understand what it is you’re feeling and how to cope with it. I’ll check in on you every few hours. I wish I could help more…” his eyes roamed over her face. “Stay with you, but I just can’t. Call your family. Prepare them for the media blitz the best you can.” He strode to the door slowly as if not wanting to leave. He hesitated as his hand touched the doorknob. “I’m sorry that you have to go through this because of me…”

Elsa rushed to him and wrapped her hands around his waist as she pressed her face against his chest. She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault; that Anthony and that horrible man were the only ones to blame, but she knew her words would fall on deaf ears. Victor had been blaming himself for everything wrong in his life for so long, her words wouldn’t make any difference. Instead, she held him, hoping that her actions would speak louder than the words she couldn’t find the courage to say.

His arms hung limply by his sides, reminding her of Nate’s indifference and only making her feel worse. Would she never find a lover who could give her the simple affection that she craved? She held him tighter, not wanting to let go, hoping that his warmth would take away the chill that had settled in her bones. Slowly, his arms came out and pressed her closer to him. She felt his lips against her hair as he kissed the top of her head, and then he was gone.

Back at her desk, she eyed the piece of paper he had scribbled onto. Sub drop. She had no idea what she was reading or what it meant, but quickly did as Victor had instructed and did an internet search.

She was astounded at the all the information that popped up about the term she had never heard of. As she read in detail exactly what she was feeling and why, her mind whirled with new revelations. She wasn’t into BDSM. She wasn’t a submissive. She wasn’t an athlete. So why was she experiencing this?

The image of herself being bound and utterly controlled flashed in her mind. If she was completely honest with herself, what she and Victor had been doing was a form BDSM. But what he was doing to her couldn’t be so easily labeled. And even though she was allowing him to control her and dictate rules, did that really make her a submissive? She didn’t think so.

When she was finished reading, she ended up with more questions than answers. Still, there had been good tips on how to deal with what she was feeling. Each site she checked stated aftercare was the most important thing that needed to be done, which is precisely what Victor had been doing all along after each of their scenes. He had even shown up in the middle of his and her workday to reassure her that he was present.

He was a good man. Caring. Kind. Conscientious to his lovers. Mr. Black wasn’t influencing his actions. Not last night. Not today. But for how long would that part of himself stay dormant? Not forever. It would be foolish to think that it would. Mr. Black was an ingrained part of his personality. And maybe Victor did need him. With the things he had to deal with at work and the kinds of people whom he was dealing with… Maybe having Mr. Black around wasn’t always a bad thing.

24: Reunion

With loud music blaring through Victor’s car speakers to the tune of Down with the Sickness by Disturbed, he contemplated the decisions he had made over the last decade. And longer. Being a criminal profiler was the perfect articulation for Victor’s intellect and personality. It was something he knew almost immediately after becoming an FBI agent. As he drove to the Virginia State Pen, he tried to recollect what exactly made him choose Criminal Psychology as his major. Finding out who his real father was had played a significant part in his decision, but it wasn’t the only reason he had decided to go into this line of work.

A memory of his mother crept up on him without warning, the words she had spoken so many years ago just as fresh as if she had said them only minutes before.

There’s nothing good in this world and there’s no one worth saving. The sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be.

With vivid clarity, he recalled how those words had made him feel. They were the catalyst that drove him to become a profiler. He was young and hopeful then, and believed that one person could make a difference. He believed that there were people worth saving and he wanted to be the man who saved them. He also wanted to prove his bat-shit-crazy-mother wrong and to make her eat crow.

After Chapter One, he still held onto those beliefs, despite his methods of helping people having taken a drastic turn toward the dark side.

He had spent the last six hours making the connection from Franco to Bruce. He had to give it to the old man, he was smart. His correspondence with Franco had gone undetected because the man had disguised himself as a university student studying psychology. He even had a fake student ID to present when he visited.

How could something that simple have been overlooked? Not only by the authorities at the prison, but by himself? He was livid with himself. People had died and if only he had looked a little closer at all of his visitors, a few lives might have been spared. Luckily for everyone involved, the young detective’s keen eyes had spotted things that seemed out of place. Like the strange women’s keepsakes that were now being linked to each of the victims – a piece of cheap ladies jewelry, a rhinestone embellished hair pin, and the oddest of them – one single woman’s sock.

Now it was just as a matter of presenting the evidence to the right people in order to make their case flawless, but before he did that, he wanted one last meeting with Anthony. One last reunion, if you will, before he severed ties completely. Victor didn’t need him – not his fucked up advice or his input on criminal cases. He would find someone else for that. Killers were a dime a dozen and the only reason he had kept up relations with Anthony was out of some fucked up sense of familial obligation, even if Anthony didn’t know about his paternal connection to him. As far as that went, no one except Elsa need know about his relationship with the old man.

But Anthony was a fighter and an asshole with retribution on his mind. He had lashed out after Victor had threatened him and now seeing him again might trigger some other vengeful action on his part.

Like divulging all his dirty secrets about his Chapters and his less than ethical treatment of them.

Obviously, Victor would deny those allegations if it ever came down to that. Anthony had no proof and all of the notes that had been photocopied had been confiscated and handed back over to him. It would be the word of a lying, piece of shit killer over the word of a respected criminal profiler.

As he sat waiting for Anthony to arrive, his blood began to boil at the thought of what he had put Franco up to. How dare he try to take away the only person who meant anything to him. Surely he knew that Elsa was important to him even if he didn’t know why or how. He had been guiding and dictating his actions since the beginning. He had found a protégé to carry out his murderous acts while he lived a life of stony luxury behind prison walls. Luxury as far as Victor was concerned considering what all his victims had been put through. Anthony thought he was safe there within those four walls and out of reach from any further justice being done to him.