“For fuck’s sake, man, you’d think you’d learn to tell the difference between sarcasm and complaints!”
“That was definitely a complaint,” he decides as he presses the tip of his blade against my chest, plucking the fabric with it. “Did you like it when those women cried and begged?”
I wonder if anyone’s noticed I’m missing by now. If they have, I bet they have no idea I’m currently being flown who the fuck knows where with an evil man who thinks I’m an even eviler man. And the sad thing is that if they kill me, the man they’ve mistaken me for gets to continue killing women. I wonder if, when they strike again, this guy will go, “Whoops, guess I did have the wrong guy after all. My bad.”
“I swear I didn’t do it,” I plead. “I feel absolutely awful for the families who have gone through this. But I promise I didn’t do it.”
“You going to complain again?”
“Nope, not at all. I love this. This is all so much fun. I’m having so much fun. The most fun ever. I don’t even drink but I’m sure as fuck going to drink this whiskey,” I decide as I grab the edge of the glass in my mouth and tip it up where I proceed to wear the whiskey instead of drinking it. It goes up my nose, burning my nostrils as I choke and drop the glass while Tavishroarswith laughter.
“You are hilarious. Easily my favorite soon-to-be dead man.”
“Yay. I’m so glad. Definitely not complaining,” I mumble, miserable that I can’t even get drunk so I won’t remember any of this.
“It’s your turn again. Go on, spin.”
“So excited,” I say, sarcasm dripping from my words as I use my whiskey-soaked face to spin the dial.
“Oh look, you get to get married,” he says as he picks up a little pink person and sets it next to my car. “Just kidding. Serial killers don’t get happiness.”
And then he plucks her off into oblivion.
“Why’d you kill her? I thought you were the good guy.”
“I’m the motherfucking best guy.”
“Then why’d you kill that innocent woman?”
“Just be sad you’re going to die all alone.”
“I’m really fucking sad!” I say then slump down, head hitting the table. “Can I write a letter to my mom before you murder me?”
“Is it going to confess all of your sins?”
“No, it was going to be something like ‘Hey, Mom. I finally met a hot guy. He turned out to be a contract killer, but that’s okay because he’s taking me on a luxury jet. Don’t be foolish, not off on vacation but tomurder me.’”
“You think I’m hot?” Tavish asks.
I glance up at him. “Don’t worry, it’s all overwritten by your absolutely dreadful personality.”
“Nowthatwas definitely a complaint.”
I jerk back in horror. “NO! Observation! Observation! Ha ha!” I fling myself out of the chair and with no other way to get away, I just start rolling. This makes him smack his leg as he laughs.
“You are, hands down, the funniest serial killer I’ve ever gotten the pleasure of torturing. They’re generally real sadistic assholes or super weepy. That’s the worst. Like they think they don’t deserve it after all they’ve done. But you? You’re hilarious.”
I can only roll so far before I end up flush against the edge of the couch where I decide that I’ll become one with it. Thatis, until Tavish grabs my ankles and drags me back over to the chair.
“Come on, we still have a while and I’m bored.”
“Where the fuck are we going? Some rich man’s private island or something?”
“Damn, you’re good at this.”
“What is this? It’s like a poorly written action flick! He’s obviously the bad guy! The person who owns the private island is always the bad guy!”
“Come on, I need to absolutely smoke your ass in this game,” he says as he puts me back in the chair. When I flop back down on the table in defeat, I’m presented with a knife.
