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Reginald Bones: Part One

Page 13

by Lucian Bane


  The anger in her eyes shattered under the weight of worry and pain. The drastic turnaround held him spellbound. But the change was short lived. Fury came next, slowly hardening her face. “I didn’t mean a thing by it. Your brother is a saint. And you are the Devil. He doesn’t deserve me, that much I know and I’m sorry he’s got your evil ass for a sibling.”

  Wow, Reginald said.

  At hearing that her words had done him some good, Bones let them go. He licked his index finger and marked the air. “One point for you, Miss Winter,” he said softly. “This, I agree with.”

  She smirked. “Pretty sure I scored two.”

  He chuckled to himself. Pretty sure she had as well. But no need to tell her what she already knew.

  ****

  Winter fought with her body’s need to throttle him. What was wrong with her? Why was she letting him push her buttons? She was supposed to be submitting for death. But he wasn’t planning to kill her soon enough, that was the problem. Maybe she could piss him off to that point.

  He sure hated the look of women and the touch of them, that was well established. She watched him get his shit together and fix his poker face back on. Damn she hated that he looked exactly like Reginald! Then it hit her. Reginald was Christopher! The Christopher that had done all those things to her? Oh shit! How did she not connect that? Any other situation, she’d jump for joy and celebrate that the man of her wildest fantasies really, really, really liked her. She refused to use the L word, that was forbidden in her vocabulary.

  A double whammy slammed her with sick realization. It was Reginald she’d turned down! She wanted to scream and kill Bones now even though he technically had no fault in it. That it was all her fault didn’t help, it only made it worse. She wanted somebody to hate that she could kill. And it couldn’t be her. Not if she was going to see her brother when she died.

  God help her. No, don’t help. Help Bones. Help him do what needs doing already. Before she’s missed at work and shit flies.

  “Tell me what sort of talents you have?”

  Geez not that again. His strangeness was no longer a point of wonder, but a nuisance. Maybe if she played his game he’d get to what he needed to faster. Talents. The word was damn foreign to her. She had no talents. Except… “I used to juggle.” Then she remembered. “And I liked to sing but I wouldn’t call it a talent.”

  “Sing,” he mused, sounding like he might like to hear her do it for three days straight.

  “I can play chess.”

  “Chess?”

  She eyed him at hearing it in his tone. It was too smart of a talent for her. But she found he looked… pleased. Too pleased. And why did that have to come with a good feeling? Why did she give a shit what he thought? You’ll forever be stupid, that’s why.

  “I have a chess board. We’ll need to play.”

  Dear God. She would be there a year by his tone.”

  “What?” he wondered at her eyeroll.

  She shook her head in disbelief. He’d want honesty. “I just can’t believe it.”

  “Can’t believe what?”

  She looked at him, hard as that was to do without seeing the man she thought was a demi-god.

  “Hello?” He waved.

  She refocused her gaze. “Is there some amount of money I could give you?”

  “For what?” he asked, oblivious.

  “To do what I thought you were supposed to do.”

  His face held a mild smirk of annoyance. “What’s your hurry? Die tonight or die a year from now.”

  “Because I want to die now.”

  “Well it won’t kill you to wait a few days,” he said, humor in his deep voice.

  “Very funny. Verrrry funny. Don’t you see how strange this is? Doesn’t this all feel strange to you? Why not just untie me and we’ll have coffee and I’ll juggle and sing while we play chess.”

  He laughed and she hated how the sound tickled her stomach. “Maybe I will. Eventually. But I have to trust you first.”

  “Trust me to what?” she cried. “Not grab the first sharp object and do the job for you?”

  “I doubt you’d do that. You wouldn’t be here if you could.”

  “How do you know I don’t want to be tortured first?” she challenged, realizing how stupid she sounded.

  “And you do seem pretty tortured,” he said proudly.

  She shook her head, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered. “I have a job.” She locked her gaze back on his merry one. “I will be missed.”

  He busted out laughing, clapping several times. “You will be missed. God that was good. My heart is so torn now.”

  “Whatever,” she muttered giving up. “Just do what you want, I don’t care. And when my boss comes looking for me, you can deal with that mess. He’s not keen on people holding up his business,” she finished, looking to see how that affected him.

  “Oh, I’ll deal with him,” he said, his dark gaze suddenly on fire. “I’ll be very happy to deal with him, don’t you worry.”

  That he’d deal with her boss in a way she’d often dreamed sent a little thrill down her spine. He suddenly closed his eyes and mumbled to himself, making her realize she was probably dealing with a psychopath. Just not any kind she knew existed. She stared at the tattoos on his neck, wondering what kind of picture it was and why he’d gotten them. Reginald had the same ones as far as she could remember. Surely somebody would’ve noticed if he hadn’t. But then he was a recluse. And then again, not once did she ever hear a rumor of a twin.

  He busted out laughing and she regarded him. “I have to hear,” he said.

  “Hear what?”

  “What you’re thinking. There were a couple of lightbulb moments in your eyes. Do share.”

  She had to turn away to think, or her brain kept seeing Reginald, not his psychotic brother. “I was thinking that you and your brother might be a team. A psycho team,” she added, tired of worrying she’d say the wrong thing. She had to turn away from his huge smile. She was sure she’d never seen such a beautiful thing. Let the torment continue.

  “Wow, that is actually a great idea. I’ll be sure and propose it to Reginald.”

  “I doubt he’d go for it.”

  “Oh, so do I,” Bones agreed. “He’s a saint, after all.”

  She eyed his smile, her stomach tensing. What was he implying? That he wasn’t? The idea that he might not be… “Don’t say that.”

  “Say what?”

  “What you just said with your smile.”

  “Oh you read smiles?”

  His grin irked her. “I read everything, buster. Just like you.”

  He busted out laughing, coming forward in his chair. “Buster. God that’s good. What did my smile say?”

  “You know what it said, don’t play dumb.”

  “Busted,” he admitted, leaning back. “You’re right. Reggie is a bonafide saint, no doubt about it. He’s the most optimistic bastard you’ll ever meet. It’s… so fucking draining, some days.”

  She watched his grin slowly fade as a gradual darkness slid over his face, making her heart race.

  “And that’s why I protect him,” he whispered, holding her tight with his stare. “You understand?”

  She stared back into his gaze, oddly drawn to what burned in its depths. It was so brutal and fierce but at the same time… breathtaking. She realized what she was seeing. Loyalty and love. “I understand.” The longing and need to have what he had for his brother, when it mattered, stole her breath.

  Her muscles loosened a little. Reginald was in very good hands. Then it hit her and she tensed again. If her boss came looking, he’d find Reginald too. She couldn’t let anything happen to him.

  “Now what?”

  Jesus, it was like he barged into her mind. “I just… I don’t want anything happening to him. Should my boss find out and somehow…”

  “Nothing. Will happen to him. Trust me on that.”

  The brutal
conviction in those words again evoked a desperate longing. To have such loyalty to give to those she loved. To have given to her. Bones may be crazy and psychotic, but she admired what he had for his brother.

  “I see it, I see it,” he mumbled and nodded.

  “See what?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “Tell me what other talents you have.”

  Her muscles sagged at the exhausting topic. Back to start. She took in a deep breath and tried to think about the question. She was already down to nothing when she’d started. “I can cook, but sure that’s not a talent.”

  “It can be,” he said. “Where’d you learn that?”

  “You Tube.”

  “Aggressive. Nice. Why did you learn it?”

  Why? How did he always manage to ask the worst possible question, the exact one she didn’t want to answer?

  “Honesty,” he reminded her.

  “I wanted to learn.”

  “Look at me.”

  She finally managed to. “Because you need to know how, people don’t feed you all your life if ever.”

  “Who cooked for you growing up?”

  “I didn’t need anybody to cook for me.” She was sure he’d call her on the lie but when he didn’t she left it, grateful.

  “How old were you when you learned?”

  She tried to shrug but it was hard with her hands tied above her head. “Maybe twelve.” Her fingers were going numb, she realized.

  “You learned to cook that early? Where was your mom?”

  “That’s not young. And she was dead,” she said, unbothered by that question.

  “How’d she die?”

  “Overdose when I was three.” She didn’t even remember her and was kind of glad.

  “Who raised you?”

  Ugh. Here we go. “My dad.”

  She fought to hold his all-seeing gaze, wagging her left foot casually. “Sounds like he was the kind of person I’d like to dissect and study. They say that the organs will eventually evolve into that of a pig if they live like one long enough.”

  Winter’s laughter burst out before she could stop it. Not that she would’ve but heck, she was not expecting that. She finally managed a glance at him and her laughter came to an immediate stop. His eyes seemed to burn with something that made her heart race in… fear. Pretty sure it was fear. Hard to know what she was feeling with him anymore.

  “How’d you know?” she asked, hoping to get past that thing in his eyes.

  “You don’t lie well,” he said.

  “But I… just said his name.”

  “You hid. I figured that was why. Now you just confirmed it.”

  “If my hands were free, I’d lick the air and mark you a point,” she said, feeling her cheeks warm from the near gentleness in his tone. Was weird coming from him. “Bravo Mr. People Reader. Where did you learn that, anyway?”

  She realized it was her first real question to him. “I picked it up in my line of work.”

  “Whiiiiich is?”

  “Snuffing.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Snuffing? Reginald sat forward at that term. He’d been enjoying the conversation up to that. What the hell is that?

  Bones closed his eyes. You were doing so well, he said. What do you mean, what the hell is that. It’s what I did. You know this.

  You never told me this!

  Bones was quiet for a second. Well it never came up.

  “What’s snuffing?” she asked, sounding worried.

  “Snuffing is when you kill women and video tape it for profit. It’s a pretty major business, and I can’t believe you don’t know what that is.”

  Reginald stared at him in dumbfounded shock just as Winter did. You did this? How could you not tell me?

  “I don’t do it anymore,” he said to her, answering him at the same time. “I haven’t done it in years. I quit a long time ago. Not something I care to talk about.”

  Wow. Huuuuuge oversight buddy.

  I saw no sense whatsoever in telling you that.

  You said you didn’t remember anything at all related—

  And I don’t. That has nothing to do with it. Happened way later. Two different worlds, two different lifetimes.

  Why? Why did you do that? You killed women? And filmed it? Oh my God, Bones.

  “Well I stand corrected,” she whispered, disrupting their argument. Reginald regarded the sadness in her eyes. “I was just beginning to think you might not be a monster like the rest of them.”

  “You sound disappointed,” Bones said. But Reginald sensed anger at her accusation.

  “I think I am,” she confessed, staring at him.

  “You came here thinking that’s what I was, and—”

  “I know what I came here thinking,” she cut in, angry. “I know, what I came in thinking, but I began to be glad you weren’t, glad that I was wrong. I guess we’re back to square one.”

  “And where is that?” he asked.

  Reginald waited to hear as well. He couldn’t help but feel bad that she thought this way about Bones. He wasn’t that way. Not anymore. He wanted to cut in and tell her that.

  “Back to you being the monster I needed. Fate has spoken, I guess.”

  Reginald nudged Bones. Say something. Tell her you’re not like this.

  Why should I. Let her think what the fuck she wants, Reggie. I’m not here to prove who I am to her.

  Ah yes, he said. Because you’re here for…? he questioned.

  To prove who she is. What she is. And why she is.

  And then?

  “So what’s next, Mr. Snuff?”

  Shit. Please Winter, don’t do that.

  “I think I’m ready for a little game,” Bones said, getting up and heading up the stairs.

  What are you doing? Reginald asked as they crossed the yard to the house. Bones, she doesn’t know you, you don’t need to be offended or upset. You can’t expect her—

  I don’t, he said. I don’t expect a damn thing from her, Reggie.

  I still can’t believe you just did that, Reginald said.

  What?

  You let her see us.

  “You’re my twin,” he reminded out loud. “We just won’t be in the same room at the same time.”

  But she thought you were me.

  “Well, I corrected her,” Bones said, simply. “I needed to see her eyes.”

  He recalled when he’d taken the blindfold off. Reginald had stood behind Bones but he would’ve loved to see Bones’ face when she saw him for the first time. Her shocked expression made it almost impossible not to yank Bones out of the driver’s seat and explain everything.

  And God, she was so beautiful. The green and blue in her eyes had mixed in a way that made them brighter. The way she’d responded to Bones, too. Wow, she was feisty. He really loved that. He was glad she didn’t put up with his … whatever he was doing. It was hard to know with Bones what line of logic he was chasing down the dark and dangerous rabbit hole in his mind.

  Bones pulled blankets out of the closet and guilt hit him. He’d seen she was cold. He was just getting blankets.

  Bones set the blankets down and returned to the closet, making Reginald’s heart hammer again. He kept his shotgun in there. Bones pulled something from the shelf and Reginald released a breath. A Chessboard. He wanted to play chess with her? Ah, Bonesy.

  Bones picked up the blankets and headed back then. “What did you think?” Bones muttered as he went. “That I was getting my gun?”

  Sorry, I should’ve known better.

  “You damn well should’ve,” he mumbled. “I’d never do something like that without letting you know that I was.”

  Reginald was back to where he originally was. Unsure of what the hell Bones was doing and why.

  Returning to the shed, they navigated the narrow stairs with their load. He dropped the stuff next to the bed, ignoring Winter while Reginald strained to see her expression out of the corner of their eyes. Bones turned and went back up th
e stairs, locked the door, and jogged back down.

  “You’re awfully nice for a Snuffer,” she mumbled while Bones shook the blanket out and covered her.

  Please don’t piss him off, Winter. Tuck the blankets.

  Bones didn’t argue and shoved the covers along her body until it hugged her.

  “So, what’s Reginald doing?”

  Bones pulled the small table next to the wall closer to the bed then went to the shelf and pulled the electric heater down. He untied her next and Reginald tensed at seeing the look on her face as she sat up.

  “Try to run and you’ll be sorry,” Bones muttered.

  “Yeah? You gonna torture me with a hundred more questions?”

  “Yes. Only I’ll strip you naked when I do it. So, if you run, I’ll assume you want that. And Reginald would be very upset to learn you’re hot after his brother.

  Really? Bones, stop.

  Bones snickered a little. Look at her. She is terrified of that.

  Reginald did see it and it made him happy. He noticed Bones tied her hands behind her now. What was he doing?

  “Not sure how I’m supposed to play with my hands tied.”

  “With your tongue,” Bones informed simply.

  She snorted. “I’m good with my tongue but not that damn good.”

  “I mean you’ll use it to tell me which pieces to move where. Damn, you’re nasty.”

  Reginald wanted to smile at seeing her snicker. She was being feisty again. She was also trying to irritate Bones and it was working. He hated whore talk. And whores.

  He put the other chair next to her at the table. “Have a seat.”

  He sat at the other one and began setting up the board. It was one of those cheap chess games with the plastic pieces. I didn’t know you could play chess.

  Wasn’t something I ever thought to say.

  Reginald wanted to smirk but believed him. He wasn’t a talker of such things. Where’d you learn?

  My boss. From that life I don’t like talking about, he added, sensing more questions no doubt. “White moves first,” he told her.

  “I need the bathroom,” Winter announced. “I’ve been needing it,” she added like she worried he’d deny her.

  “Bathroom’s behind me.”

  She got up and Reginald watched her from their peripheral vision, wishing Bones would let him look. Ask her if she wants to take off her shoes. They look uncomfortable.

 

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