Page 20 of Adam & Eve

“Are you hungry?” I asked. “I bet you are.”

I didn’t wait for her to answer. She didn’t have to know that I knew she was hungry by the

growling in her stomach. I also knew exactly what she would want.

I turned away from the bed and walked over to the bedroom door. I slid the security panel

back, dialed my pin code which activated my intercom. My maid, Ava, answered immediately.

“I’d like a steak, fried Cajun shrimp, a baked potato with sour cream and unsalted butter with

a side of broccoli, steamed. Water with crushed ice and lemonade with fresh strawberry slices.”

I’d ordered all Eve’s favorites to show her just how much I knew about her. I turned back to

ger to gage her reaction. I got none. She turned away from me, disgust no longer written across her

features.

F O U R

My emotions were all over the place; one moment I was okay with knowing I was probably going to

die in that room, and the next, I didn’t know how I felt. He knew my favorite meal? I wondered if it

would be my last.

What else did he know?

How long had he been watching me?

I’d always been a bit morbid. That was one of the reasons I was majoring in Criminology. I’d

read countless books on serial killers and psychopaths, spent hours researching. I was so well-versed

in the criminal mind I could get away with murder. That was how I knew for a fact that I was dealing

with a sick individual. I couldn’t handle him with my usual head-on approach.

Again, I ran all the times I’d actually seen him through my mind. It was easy to remember once

I thought about it. He always seemed to be there; in the library, the cafeteria, outside the grocery

store, even once during the summer in Atlanta when I visited home.

My most vivid memory was his wedding day. He’s married, my mind screamed. Where was

his wife? Instead of adding yet another question I couldn’t answer to the millions that were already in

my head, I came right out and asked him.

I steadied my voice. “Where is your wife? How can you be married and do something like

this?”

The tortured look on his face almost made me want to take the question back. Almost.

“My wife is none of your concern.” He walked back over to the chaise lounge and sat down