Page 45 of An Unending Claim
“Peyton.”
“Hello, puss.”
I really, really hate those words.
My panther hissed and spit angrily. Some of the sound escaped my lips and he chuckled.
My first instinct was to hang up, but then I thought better of it and turned to my computer as I replied to the psycho on the phone.
“B, right?” I needled him, knowing it would piss him off to think I hadn’t been thinking about him and living in fear. I put the phone on speaker, but kept the volume low.
“Naughty puss. Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to poke the bear… or wolf, in this case?” He chuckled at his joke and I rolled my eyes as I set the phone in my lap and began to type.
“Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to not to kill people?” I countered. “Or were they too ignorant to know they were raising a deranged psychopath?”
He snorted in derision and his voice was icy when he spoke again. “How would they know when I wasn’t allowed to speak or bring attention to myself? Then again, I suppose they might have known. They certainly didn’t want me to spread our genes to new offspring. As if I would have created more filthy pups.” He sounded so disgusted it turned my stomach. My cat reacted similarly, but she was on edge and ready to pounce, as if he were about to jump out of the phone. “Too bad you weren’t around when they injected me with that experimental drug, puss. It’s proven to be very effective at sterilizing cats. Then you wouldn’t be carrying that brat, and I might have considered letting you live.”
“Don’t bullshit me, B,” I scoffed, buying time. “You would have killed me eventually.”
His parents had sterilized him? Well, that certainly explained some of his attitude and actions.
“Hmmm, perhaps. As you know, you’re not my type, and I like playthings as much as the next animal. In fact, I have a string here with your name on it, pussy cat. I think I’ll wrap it around your neck and watch you bat at it with your claws for a while.”
The glee in his tone had nausea building in my esophagus, but I forced it back, listening to every word and adding it to the mental files containing everything I knew about him. The more he told me the better, and the longer he was on the phone the easier it would be to find his location. He’d used a VoIP, and finding the IP had only taken me thirty seconds. But he’d routed it through a maze of false addresses, names, numbers, and some other security protocols I was surprised to run into.
It hadn’t taken me long to conclude that B wasn’t computer-savvy enough to hack those DNA databases, so I had no doubt he’d had help covering his tracks. Finding out B’s real identity would go a long way in the search for whomever he was working with.
“And what happens if I scream?” I really wanted this conversation to be over with, but he clearly didn’t a have a filter.
“That would be unfortunate, puss,” he hissed. “I’d have to punish you.”
“By cutting out my tongue?”
A growl rumbled over the line before he snarled, “Not before I put it in a vice until you’ve learned to keep quiet.”
A vice? What the fuck?
I hated to think that this was what Everleigh had been alluding to. A punishment for speaking… I hit the mute button on the phone and pushed back my chair to grab my trash can, barely making it before I heaved and lost my lunch. My panther had backed off through the conversation, reacting to my emotions. As I threw up, she brushed her fur under my skin and purred, letting me know she was there and trying to comfort me. It was almost like having someone kneeling beside me stroking my hair away from my face and it helped calm my rioting stomach.
“Shall I break your jaw again after that, puss? Take a baseball bat to your genitals? Or cut that thing out of you? All while you can’t even scream.” B’s tone was full of excitement and it set off another round of vomiting.
I tried to keep it quiet, but if anyone happened by while I was throwing up, Nathan would be here any second. As I’d suspected, he came storming down the hall and into my office just as B added, “I don’t usually inflict as much pain on anyone else as I did on them, but you seem to draw the unexpected out of me.”
Nathan’s eyes went wide and he reached for my phone, but I grabbed it and hung up before he could take it. I tossed my cell back on the desk and set the trash can on the floor, hoping I wouldn’t need to use it again. My panther had relaxed the second he’d entered the room and while she still pushed her comfort through my mind, she assumed Nathan would take over caring for me.
“Fuck,” he muttered before stalking over and crouching down beside me. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”
I could tell he was fighting the desire to demand answers and my heart softened even more because he had chosen to care for me first.
“Some water?” I rasped, my throat sore from retching so hard.
There was a small mini-fridge in the seating area of my office and Nathan hurried to retrieve a bottle of water, then twisted off the cap before handing it to me.
After taking a few sips, I leaned back in my chair and—despite the seriousness of the situation—had to bite back a tiny smile at his painful expression. “Go ahead. Before your head explodes.”
He frowned and stood, folding his arms over his chest as he rested his hip on the edge of my desk. “Did you seriously take a phone call from the serial killer hunting you, Peyton?” he asked in a low, hard tone. “Anddidn’t let me know immediately?”
“First, I didn’t know it was him when I answered. It came through the switchboard. Second, of course I took the fucking call. We’ve been lost in the woods with this investigation and he just laid a series of breadcrumbs for me to follow. As for why I didn’t let you know, I was a little busy trying to keep him prattling on while I traced the call and subtly encouraged him to share vital information.”