Ho Ho Homicidal Maniac (Murder and Mistletoe #2)

Chapter 7

Blake

I fall onto the cot as Nico shoves me inside the cell uncuffed. Despite bruises I can already feel forming on my body, I’m still breathing. But for how long?

My breath hisses as I stand back up and throw myself at the iron doors that just locked behind me. “How can you do this to me? I did nothing wrong. I just wanted to have fun, and now you imprisoned me here, like I’m a circus animal!”

“If you’d have made yourself known before I took off the mask, we wouldn’t have this problem!” He rubs his head with a scowl.

Good. At least I hurt him. Too bad my self-defense classes turned out to be useless in the moment of absolute panic.

“Oh, sure, it’s all my fault. It has nothing to do with you liking me,” I rasp, tapping my chest to drive that point home. “You’re no hero. I bet you’re just lying to me about that other guy being hired to kill me, so that I’m too scared to leave!”

Nico screams with so much fury I take a few steps back from the bars, afraid of what he’ll do next. He doesn’t reach in for me though and instead turns to an old chair in the corner and kicks it so hard the leg breaks.

“Any other fucking complaints?” He turns to me with madness in his eyes.

I’m aware that I’m poking a rabid bull, but I’m too angry, and the bars give me a false sense of security.

“Yes, that sweater you gave me? The ugliest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, and that counts for something!” I roar, staring straight into his fiery eyes.

They dim, and for the longest time, he’s just breathing hard, his nostrils flaring, but his shoulders sag. He kicks the fallen chair without the same energy as before. Seems like I hit a nerve there.

I don’t get a curse-filled answer. Nico walks off, and even though I want him gone, now my stomach clenches in fear. He could leave me here and I’d starve to death. He could torture me by giving me spoiled food, or blocking my access to a shower. He could do anything, and I’m neither strong enough, nor good enough at fighting, to stop him.

I shouldn’t have run. I should have bided my time and gained his trust before risking it, because there’s no way he’ll ever let me go after what I’ve done.

Hope seeps out of me, and I slide to the floor, grabbing the bars and pressing my face to them as I scan the room in vain hope that maybe there’s something he didn’t account for.

But there’s nothing. The keys hang on the farthest wall, and I don’t have anything that could help me bring them any closer. Unless I befriend the rats and get them to do my bidding, I’m fucked.

Nico is gone for a long time. Or it just feels like forever because I’m scared. I do hear some rummaging in a room farther down, but I don’t know if Nico’s sulking, punching walls, or preparing a Christmas-themed torture room to end me in style.

The last thing I should be thinking about is how he kissed me, but it’s weirdly soothing, so I don’t ban myself from it. My first kiss. With a serial killer. How appropriate for Cryptic Boy Wonder.

“Nico?” I try eventually, tortured by the wait.

“I’m coming!” he grumbles from another room.

“Your head…. d-does it hurt?” I try, because he would have murdered me if he wanted to. Maybe I can work on him until he gives me another chance at an escape?

“Yes it fucking hurts!” he yells back, and I cringe. Will I now have to soothe this sulking monster?

I hear him stomping, and then he comes back into my view with a stack of folders. He grabs the first one on top and opens it in front of my cell.

“This is your abductor. I mean… the previous one.” Nico won’t look into my eyes. “He raped and tortured his victims, often as made-to-measure blackmail he’d record for whoever paid him for it.”

He passes me the folder, sending a whole avalanche of mixed feelings through me. Fear, confused gratitude, but also morbid curiosity of someone who researched far too many crime scenes. They all buzz in my skull, locked in a continuous fight.

The first thing I see is a woman with most of her skin stripped off her back, and it doesn’t get any better. I could have been one of those poor souls with haunted eyes, and just thinking about it makes me lean harder against the bars.

“You weren’t supposed to be there,” Nico mumbles.

“How do you have all this?” I ask, and Nico sighs with exasperation, pressing a small bag of frozen peas to the side of his head.

“I found incriminating footage on one of my previous victims. I followed the trail, but most of what you see here is actually straight from the collection of snuff he kept for his own use.”

I flinch, and nausea once again crawls up my throat. “And… someone hired him to do this to me? Are you certain?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation and grabs another folder with printouts of a message exchange. “This was on his phone. When asked about what he’s allowed to do to you, the person ordering the hit responded that they don’t care, as long as at some point in the future a ‘hand or foot’ of yours surfaces so the death can be confirmed. I know I look like the bad guy here, but these are the naughty ones.” He taps the stack of folders, no doubt containing evidence on the other people he killed.

I have no words, and as scary as it is that someone paid a sadist to hunt me down, the fact that they didn’t care to even give me a quick death makes my heart too heavy, and I clutch at my chest.

“What did I do?” I whimper, meeting Nico’s gaze through the bars.

He shrugs. “I… have no idea. Do you have any enemies? People can hate others for really small things.”

I wade through my mind but have to conclude the search with a shake of my head. “No… I don’t even know that many people. There’s the staff at my family home, but it’s my brother who deals with their pay, benefits, and the like. And I don’t remember ever being mean to any of them, other than, maybe , in childhood.”

“And your brother? You said he’ll be worried about you, but at this point I’m assuming you could have lied.” Nico flicks through the folder with the messages, but I think he’s only doing that to avoid my gaze.

“My brother what?” I ask, utterly confused. It’s only when Nico looks up, offering me a dead glare when I realize what he’s suggesting. “What the hell? Normal people don’t order kills on family members! He literally raised me since our parents died and always took great care of me.” I stall, swallowing. “Maybe it’s someone who hates him and wants to hurt him through me?”

Nico nods. “That’s an option. Until I find out, it’s not safe for you out there, and… I can’t give you the choice, Blake. I don’t kidnap people, I don’t murder innocents, even if you don’t believe me. But I’m not going to prison either. You were an unfortunate witness. We will figure something out eventually.”

I swallow, pumped out. “How is this happening to me?” I mutter. “I did nothing.”

Nico scowls and spreads his arms. “And me? I only do good deeds! This guy was my perfect target, an early Christmas treat, and instead, I’m stuck with you!”

I glare at him, too tired to be afraid of someone who clearly doesn’t plan to kill me. “‘Christmas treat’? All this time, I thought you were killing people around Christmas to mock the whole fake cheer atmosphere.”

His eyes meet mine, filling with the frustration of a declawed cat. “No! It’s my Christmas gift! To the community! Why don’t people understand?”

“Because in all but four cases since the 1910s murder, the victim was just a regular innocent person. ”

“They were not,” Nico insists and pokes his pile of folders again.

I sigh. “Well, you say that, but neither the media, nor the police have the same information as you. How come?”

I tell myself that I’m willing to keep up the conversation to endear myself to him, so he doesn’t just leave me alone for another day, but in truth, I’m itching to find out more. I want to get my hands on those folders filled with crimes even the police databases don’t have.

“A lot of my intel isn’t obtained legally. I…” Nico glances at the broken chair, then sits on the small craft table with his arms crossed. “I install Christmas lights and decorations in many big houses. And while I do that, I’ll often plant a camera here and there. Like Santa, I watch over the community, and sometimes, I find a very, very naughty person. If I have a confirmed kill, they’re fair game to me.”

A shiver runs down my spine when I imagine him watching me from afar, checking the hidden camera once in a while. Would he watch me get undressed or pleasure myself?

Something I definitely shouldn’t imagine.

I clear my throat. “You said your grandfather was the Christmas Killer before you. Was he also killing… naughty people?”

Nico runs his fingers through his hair, and I wince when I notice blood in it even though I shouldn’t feel sorry for him at all. “He showed me the ropes but didn’t let me kill anyone until I was twenty. Kinda arbitrary, if you ask me, but I followed his rules, and I still do. He killed very rarely, only a few times, really. His first was a guy who kept beating his wife. In those times, it was very hard to prove or prosecute that kind of crime. In the end, Grandpa lost his patience and killed the fucker, then decided to stage it as a Christmas Killer thing, since it was in late December, and the memory of the serial killer from the beginning of the past century was still fresh. We don’t know who that original murderer was, though.”

“He’s long dead anyway,” I fill in and nod, regarding Nico in a new light. “So… your grandfather was a vigilante, and you… like killing but only kill bad people?”

He hesitates with the answer. Maybe he knows how fucked up it is.

“It… sates my appetite. Judge me if you want. I don’t care.”

I don’t like how defensive he is. The wall between us is high despite us sharing secrets.

I rub my face and hug the bars, watching him in pensive silence. “Look, I’m sorry I hurt you, okay? But imagine yourself in my shoes. What would you have done?”

Nico groans. “I wouldn’t have ran. I would have used your moment of confusion to cut your throat with a piece of the broken cup.”

He’s either trying to provoke me or show his claws, and I don’t like either. Talking to him reminds me of the many interviews with psychopaths I’ve seen.

I blink, touching my neck as if it were already bleeding. He’s so intense, and I don’t know if it scares or arouses me, which is bad in itself. “I don’t want you dead.”

Nico squints. “I think you do. I think you’re lying. Are you even gay?”

No. I’m just really into psychos who keep me in a dungeon , my mind offers. But if I am to ever leave this basement, I need to use any advantage I have.

I press my cheek to the cold bar. “I’m not like you. I don’t want anyone dead. And yes, I am most definitely gay.” When he doesn’t stop his accusatory glances, I exhale and continue despite my throat borderline closing. “ And yes, I planned to distract you in the shower, but that doesn’t mean I disliked touching you. It’s just… complicated.”

He lights up a little, no longer a lizard man with dead eyes, but a scolded puppy. He pulls on his fingers, slouching. “I guess I’m a bit of a dreamer. I wanted to believe you could like me. You’re so pretty, funny, you’ve got a hot voice, and you’re into crime.”

Incredible.

But I go with it and sigh. “That was actually my first kiss.”

“ Now you’re definitely lying.” Nico snorts and shakes his head, but his eyes are glued to me.

I no longer want to just find a way to escape. I don’t believe he could have fabricated those messages about someone ordering a hit on me, and that means I’ll be in danger even when I leave this psycho's basement. I wouldn’t even dream of calling Nico naive, but the delusional crush he has on me could prove a useful tool.

As long as I don’t lose my head in the meanwhile, because I never met a man so openly enamored with me, and it’s giving me butterflies when it shouldn’t.

I shake my head and slide my hand between the bars, reaching for him. “I’m not. I’ve never been naked with anyone either,” I admit, hoping it will wipe away any fantasies he might have about a quick fuck before the day ends.

He’s reluctant but ends up hooking one finger with mine. It’s weirdly sweet.

“Is it because of homeschooling?”

I shrug and slide my thumb across his palm, hoping to coax him closer. “I suppose so. My brother worried I might end up in bad company, or start doing drugs. But now I’m old enough to make my own choices,” I say, shivering as his blue gaze licks my chest.

“Your ID card said you’re twenty-one. But you’re not , are you?” He puts down the frozen peas and gets up, watching me intently. It’s obvious he has a weakness for me, but I have to admit I like his attention too. Especially now that I know how well he kisses, how confidently his hands can glide up and down my body.

I… should stop thinking about all that.

“I’m eighteen,” I tell him, sliding my fingers up his wrist, under the fabric of his shirt cuff.

I could have lied, said I’m still a minor. If he’s as decent as he claims, maybe he’d back off sexually. But also… he might back off sexually . And as much as his closeness frightens me, deep down I’m not sure if I want him to stop flirting with me.

“And now that you can make your own choices, are they bad company and drugs?” he asks with a smirk emerging on his lips.

It shouldn’t make my chest stir with excitement.

“Define ‘bad company’,” I say and pull on his hand.

He takes a step back and slides out of my grasp. He’s wary. Like a golden retriever that’s been hit on the snout, but which is still interested in a treat. “A notorious serial killer who might want to see you naked a bit too much.”

I whimper and cover my face as soon as the sound comes out, because it’s a scenario I would very much enjoy in fiction. “I might want to see him naked too. One day.”

“Now you’re just being cruel. But I’m not. I will let you shower, and I won’t be peeking. But if you try something again, we’ll have a different kind of talk.”

Sugar-coated threats. Yay !

I make myself smile. “Will I get to sleep in a normal bed after that? This one’s going to ruin my spine,” I say and uncover the mattress, revealing its uneven surface, with clear marks of where its previous occupant usually lay down to sleep.

Nico shakes his head. “Is this the Prince and the Pea now? I’ll look into getting you a better mattress. Maybe dinner will make the night more bearable for you? I made fresh turkey…”

Will I now be eating turkey and cranberry every day until I die?

“Are you really going to keep me like a fish in a tank, just because you can? I have so much potential. I could help you so much, even with finding the person who’s after me,” I say and reach through the bars, grabbing his finger. A flash of heat travels from his hand to mine but I ignore it, because, unlike him, I am not deranged enough to see this situation as a romantic opportunity.

But if worse comes to worst, I will use any means at my disposal. At least he’s hot.

Nico cocks his head, and the way he plays with my hand gives me goosebumps. “You? Help me ? You’ll go to the police at your first opportunity, so we’re in a bit of a bind.”

My stomach cramps from the stress of it all, and I’m proud of myself for keeping a clear head as I meet his gaze. “I also have skeletons in my closet, okay? I hired a hacker to break into the FBI database to steal some information. More than once. I couldn’t reveal it on my podcast, but it gave me an edge. What if I gave you the evidence? We would both have dirt on one another.”

Nico trails his fingers from my chest to my stomach. “You actually want to go hunting with me?”

I have him. The Christmas Killer has taken the bait .

I wipe my face with my forearm and nod. It will be scary out there with a hit ordered on me, but I won’t be on my own. And once I’m out of this prison, access to a phone will only be a question of time. My brother and his lawyers will surely be able to weasel me out of trouble with the law if Nico reveals my wrongdoings.

“I’ve been into true-crime all my life, and this is my chance to see it from the inside. Please,” I add, because he seems genuinely excited that I share his murder hobby , even if in a very different capacity.

He stands taller and smiles. “If your hacker story checks out and I let you out, you’ll go on a date with me. A real one.”

I stall, my mouth falling open as I try to process his words to make sure he’s asking for what I think he’s asking. Romance of any kind has never been high on my agenda. I planned a life of travel, fun, and friends with benefits, and this guy, this ruthless killer with a hard-on for Christmas wants to take me out on a date ?

“As in, you want us to hook up?” I ask to make sure I understand him correctly. As terrifying as it would be to be naked and vulnerable with someone like him, I could do it. He’s good-looking, and the kiss proved that we have sexual chemistry. If I’m to lose my V-card soon, might as well do so in style and use it to buy my freedom.

Nico raises his hands as if he’s an innocent. “Whatever happens, happens, but I mean a date . I’ll plan everything, you just have to bring an open mind and a joyful spirit. I promise there won’t be any dismemberment,” he adds quickly.

I laugh even as dread coils in my guts. “That would be preferable, I’m rather fond of all my limbs, digits, and appendages. ”

Jesus. Will he now think of my cock as an appendage ? Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?

“And I’m fond of them too,” Nico’s eyes glide to the front of my tiny shorts and I suddenly feel so naked even the festive pajamas don’t seem so bad. “It would be a shame if you had to lose any as punishment for screaming when we go up.”

As terrifying as the not-veiled threat is, my heart pounds faster because he did say when not if.

“I’ll give you the passcode for my email. You can find the proof there and send it to yourself. We’ll have a mutual destruction pact to ensure we both behave. Does that sound fair?” I ask and stroke his palm to stimulate his dirty thoughts, because if I get stuck down here, he might never choose to let me go.

“My apartment is a bit messy…” he warns, but unless he’s sleeping on a bed of corpses, it will be preferable to the cot two storeys underground.

“That’s fine, I’m messy too,” I lie, though to be fair, I never needed to keep my place tidy, as the staff would do that for me. “I’m curious how you decorated it, since you put so much effort and thought into this,” I tell him, indicating the tacky trinkets around the cell.

He lights up, and while for all the wrong reasons, I have to admit his smile is pretty swoony. I wouldn’t be surprised if he spent his free time volunteering at a soup kitchen.

“Just a warning. I do only have one bed.”

What a fucking surprise.