Afraid of the Dark

Chapter Sixty-two

Good news, Paulo. The boss says I can take off your blindfold.”

The Dark grabbed him by the hair, then slapped his hostage upside the head, as if Vince were the absentminded one. “Oh, I forgot. You’re not wearing a blindfold.”

He laughed way too hard at his own stupid joke, but Vince said nothing. He was seated in a desk chair, hands tied behind his back, unable to move. The Dark walked to the window and double-checked that the plywood over it was secure. They were in a spacious suite on the third floor of an abandoned hotel that was scheduled to be gutted and converted to flats. The nicest furnishings had been hauled away for auction, and only a wobbly table, a few old chairs, and a beat-up leather couch remained. There was no water or electricity, but the battery-powered lamp on the table was adequate, and when nature called, the toilet in the suite across the hall would suffice, even if it didn’t flush.

“Who’s your boss?” asked Vince.

The Dark pulled up a chair and straddled it backward, his chin resting on his forearms as he stared at Vince. He was close enough for Vince to feel his presence-a technique he’d perfected on blindfolded women.

“Let me explain something to you, Paulo. Your life is in my hands, which means that you will live only as long as you are of use to me. You’re not the hostage negotiator here. You don’t get to ask questions.”

“Why did you kill McKenna?”

“Cute,” he said, scoffing. “Uncle Vince wants to know why. After I tell you, then what are you gonna do? Fly back in your time machine and make it all better?”

The Dark glanced across the room. The device that he’d ripped from Vince’s head in the scuffle outside his flat was on the floor. “This Brainport thing comes with a time-machine function, right?” he said, mocking Vince.

Vince said nothing, but the Dark could read his expression. The sunglasses had been smashed in their struggle, and Vince looked so much weaker without them.

“Very foolish of you to try to ambush me,” the Dark said. “Desperate, really, even with this cool technology.”

The Dark gave the device a closer look. He put on the head-gear with the mounted camera, but he wasn’t sure what to do with the tongue sensor. “What’s this little lollipop thing for?” he asked.

“You stick it up your ass,” said Vince.

The Dark pulled off the headgear, threw the Brainport onto the chair in the corner of the room, and punched Vince in the stomach so hard that it hurt his own hand. Vince gasped for air, hunching over.

The Dark shook the sting out of his fist. “How do you like that, smart mouth?”

“Did you rape McKenna?”

The Dark hit him again, and Vince let out a loud groan. “Yell, scream all you want,” said the Dark. “I can fire off my gun if I want to. No one is going to hear you, except maybe a crack addict or two on the first floor.”

Vince caught his breath. “Did you… rape her?”

“Kind of a one-track mind you’ve got there, partner.”

“Did you?” asked Vince.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re a sick bastard.”

The Dark gave him another blow to the solar plexus, the hardest one yet.

“Typical hostage negotiator’s seat-of-the-pants psychology. It always boils down to sexual sadism. I hate to disappoint you, genius, but I killed McKenna because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s as simple as that.”

“You’re a liar.”

The Dark grabbed him by the jaw and held his head up, as if daring Vince to stare at him through his blindness.

“My job was to find out as much as I could about Project Round Up. If that meant sleeping with Chuck Mays’ wife, so be it. If that meant hacking into Chuck Mays’ home computer while he was out of the country, no problem. Unfortunately, I had no idea McKenna was home at the time. She caught me red-handed.”

“There was no reason to make her suffer.”

“If you gotta do it, you might as well make the most of it.”

Vince lunged forward from the chair, but his hands were tied behind his back. The Dark dodged the head butt and pushed him hard to the floor. Vince was facedown, and the Dark bore his knee into Vince’s spine as he pressed the cold muzzle of the pistol to the base of his skull.

“That’s your second silly move of the day, Paulo.”

“You’re lucky I’m blind.”

“No, you’re lucky you’re blind. You weren’t the only one injured in that explosion. If you had walked away unscathed, I would have killed you three years ago. Probably after making you watch your wife have a go with me.”

Vince jerked his shoulders back, but his resistance was futile.

“Oh, did I hit a sore spot?” said the Dark. “I thought you knew your wife sleeps around on you.”

“Shut your mouth.”

“A beautiful woman like that. Of course she feels sorry for you and wants to be the good wife. But how long did you really expect her to hang with a blind guy?”

“You don’t know Alicia.”

“Oh, I know her all right. I’m sure she’s thrilled about this Brainport contraption you’ve been testing. The less dependent you are on her, the less guilty she’ll feel about leaving. She is going to leave you, Paulo. Don’t mistake pity for love.”

Every muscle in Vince’s back tightened, and the Dark sensed the hot rush of anger, but then he could almost feel the air escaping from Vince’s lungs. It was satisfying to have touched a raw nerve-to have literally deflated him.

The Dark leaned closer, whispering into Vince’s ear: “Yes, I raped McKenna. I stabbed her with a kitchen knife. And I enjoyed it.”

Vince lay motionless.

“Now you know everything, Paulo. Except for the one thing that I will let torment you all the way to the grave.” He waited for Vince to say something, but he had gone silent. The Dark said it for him:

“Why did she tell you Jamal did it?”