Chapter 146 Patrick

• After dinner is over, I lead Catherine to our bedroom, my hand resting on the small of her back as we walk up the stairs. She’s quiet, like she’s been ever since I explained to her about the upcoming mission, and I know that she’s still upset with me, both about the trackers and the trip itself.
• I find her concern touching, even sweet, but I have no intention of passing up this opportunity to lay my hands on Majid. My pet doesn’t understand the dark thrill of being in the middle of action, of feeling the jolt of adrenaline and hearing the whizzing of bullets. She doesn’t realize that to someone like me the sight of blood and the sound of my enemies’ screams are a turn-on, that I crave them almost as much as sex. This trait of mine is why one shrink thought I might be borderline sociopathic . . . well, this and my general lack of remorse. It’s a label that’s never particularly bothered me—at least not once I got past my youthful delusion that I could someday lead a ‘normal’ life.
• As we enter the bedroom, the hunger that I’ve been restraining since yesterday intensifies, the monster inside me demanding his due. The distance I’m sensing from Catherine only makes it worse. I can feel the barriers she’s trying to erect between us, the way she’s trying to shut me out of her thoughts, and it maddens me, feeding the sadistic yearning coiling within.