“He just makes me feel a bit uncomfortable.”
Steph shook her head. “He’s never caused any problems in the eight or nine months I’ve known him. Keeps to himself, more or less.”
“A nice guy…f-from…what I seen…tonight.” Old Graham had fallen into a drunken haze, but still managed to fade in and out of the conversation. “A nice…guy.”
“Maybe, I’m just being silly,” said Jess.
“I’d say so. The guy saved me from being raped tonight!”
Jess nodded. There was a good chance she was just paranoid as she’d suspected earlier. Having Steph confirm it made her feel much better. She would go back upstairs now and look after Peter, thinking no more about it. But first she wanted to check on Steph’s injuries. Someone needed to look after her too, especially after what had happened. “Let me have a quick look at your face, before I go back upstairs. You look pretty beat up.”
Steph waved a hand. “Don’t worry. Just a bruise.”
“I’d feel better all the same.” Jess slid down onto the floor besides her.
Half-asleep, Old Graham murmured something from the floor. “Let the girl…have a…look.”
Steph sighed and leaned forward. “Fine, just keep your hands away. It hurts bad enough as it is.”
Jess leaned forward slowly and cringed at the sight of Steph’s bulging cheek. Her misty blue eye above the injury was bloodshot and teary. A second injury on her forehead seemed just as painful. A throbbing, aggressive bump that was already turning purple. “Jesus, you really took a whacking.”
“Think I fell against the toilet bowl. Don’t really remember much more than that. Someone came out of the dark and hit me.”
“You don’t remember anything at all?”
Steph sighed. “No.”
She went to move her head away, but Jess stopped her. “Hold on a sec.” She looked closer at the wound on Steph’s cheek, suddenly noticing something as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the cellar. It was something at the centre of the bruise, lighter in colour than the surrounding tissue. It formed a shape, maybe matching the surface of whatever had hit her. The outline seemed to resemble a…
…
Jess’ eyes went wide.
A dolphin.
The image was familiar and Jess scratched at her head while she tried to understand why. What could have hit Steph in the face that featured a small dolphin shape?
A ring with an engraving on it, maybe?
Jess’s breath caught in her throat at the realisation. “Holy shit! Nigel!”
“Did I hear someone say my name?” Nigel was walking down the stairs into the cellar.
Jess’s stomach cramped as she tried to think of something to say. All she could come up with was: “Hi, Nigel. Yeah, we were just talking about you. Steph just told me what nice guy you are.”
Nigel smiled at her. Jess finally understood what the expression was designed to disguise. It was indeed a mask.
Intended to hide a monster.
###
When Jess suddenly excused herself, Nigel had been concerned. Maybe his fumbled attempt at getting the girl to sit beside him had eroded the harmless veneer he worked so hard to maintain. It was possible that Jess had seen his true intentions.
Now, as Nigel entered the cellar, he wasn’t entirely sure. Jess certainly seemed jumpy at his presence but, considering the events of the last few hours, that was perhaps understandable. Steph seemed glad to see him, however, that much was clear; she’d smiled and waved a hand at him when he’d approached. It wasn’t surprising she trusted him. After all, he’d been working on gaining her confidence for the last eight months. As far as Steph was concerned, he was as harmless as a three-legged kitten with pneumonia.
Dumb fucking whore.
It didn’t matter if Jess suspected anything. They were both just his prey now; more victims to add to his mental highlight-reel of rape and torture. He figured he had at least an hour to have fun with them before he’d have to slit their throats, stash the bodies, and take a finger for his collection (and that was only if Harry and the others managed to make it back from the supermarket without freezing to death). Even if they did come back he’d have a story ready for them (and his trusty flick knife ready in his pocket just in case they didn’t believe it).
“Everything okay?” Jess asked him, still not giving away whether or not she suspected anything. “Shouldn’t someone be watching Damien and Peter?”
Nigel nodded, trying his best to look solemn. An emotion he couldn’t actually feel at all, but one he felt he was adept at emulating. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, sweetheart. I think Peter’s waking up. I heard him say your name.”
Jess didn’t react for a moment and Nigel wondered how well his lie had gone down. Finally, she replied, but made no attempts to get up and join him. “That’s wonderful,” she said. “Great news.”
“Well,” said Nigel, offering out his hand, “you going to come see the poor lad or not? I’m sure you’re the first thing he’d like to wake up to.”
Jess shifted uncomfortably as if determined not to get up. Eventually she had no choice but to concede.
“You’re right,” she said. “Be right there. I just need to talk to Steph about something first. Girl problems, you know? So, did you want to meet me up there in five minutes or so?”
She’s trying to warn Steph, the little bitch!
Nigel closed his eyes and fought away the urge to rip the girl apart right there and then, tasting her wet insides as she gulped her dying breaths. He had to work real hard to control himself and keep his cool. He would be nowhere without his control. Far better to have fun once everyone was tied up and under his power. That way there could be no surprises and the party could really get started.