But then she gave me the best thing in the world. “Thank you, Carter,” she whispered, tucking her head under my chin. “I love you.”
This time it was my throat clearing and my eyes that were watering. There were no words for how much that meant to me, and as I looked over her shoulder at Naomi, who had tears slowly trailing down her face, I knew I’d do anything for these two females. All they had to do in return was continue loving me.
The moment was effectively broken when she screeched, “He’s pooping. Look, it’s like a rope coming out of his tushie.”
SEVEN
Naomi
It was three days after Carter had given her the tank, and Shanti had taken on her new duties as ‘fishy mommy.’
Every day she fed them the exact amount of food Carter had told her to as soon as the two alarms that’d been set on Alexa sounded. She also moved the magnetic glass cleaner around the tank every day and had helped me check the water with the testing kit that morning.
Tonight she had a sleepover with Nemi, so I was on my own.
And that left me with my brain to fuck with me.
I’d never met a serial killer—and had hoped I never would, obviously—until today, but thankfully it hadn’t been in a situation where I was the victim.
While being transferred to prison to live out the rest of her life the van transporting, Alexa Keith, the killer of nine men in brutal circumstances involving the ‘pickling’ of the men's penises, had begun making noises and started shuddering as they passed Piersville police station. They’d pulled in to check it out, and for the safety of everyone, she’d been brought into the building to sit in one of the cells. I’d been tasked with monitoring her and making sure she was secure, along with Reid, and I swear it’d haunt me for the rest of my life.
I’d expected some sort of Hannibal Lecter type person, but with a vagina and boobs, obviously. What I’d met, instead, was an average-looking woman with a softly spoken voice who looked like the type of woman you’d find yourself laughing and joking with in the women’s bathrooms. She was so ordinary that it was hard to compute what she’d done with the person in front of me.
That’s where my brain had kicked in, and now all I could imagine was that I’d never be able to tell a serial killing psychopath from a normal person. I’d be so easy to kill because I was so trusting. What did that mean for Shanti if her aunt couldn’t keep her safe?
What if that woman had knocked on my door crying and said she had an emergency and needed to use the phone? Would I have let her into our home to do just that, opening us up to having my tits put in a jar with whatever she was using to pickle the penises?
And why would anyone pickle a dick? Why not just buy one of the giant pickles Canon had tortured Jacinda with? You could get them in the store and online, and there’d be no death or blood involved.
Scrubbing my face with my hands, I found myself walking toward the tank to watch the fish. It was a form of woosah oneness for me, but today, something looked off.
Squinting, I put my face near the glass to make sure I was seeing things correctly.
Sure as a sheesh kebob, there were five tiny little baby fish right in front of my nose.
Pulling my phone out in a panic, I hit Carter’s name and waited anxiously for him to answer. It took only four rings for it to happen, but by that time, I had the fishnet in my hand, ready to save the babies if any of the other fish looked at them like they were dinner.
“Yeah?”
“There are babies,” I shrieked, angling my head around the side of the tank to look at them more closely.
“Uh, where?”
“In the tank. I’ve got tiny fish babies, and there are big ones in there with them. What if they eat them? I’m not made for that kind of massacre, Carter. After meeting Alexa Keith today, I can’t take much more psycho bullshit in my life.” I was close to tears, and then the damn Alexa in the house went off with a reminder, making me scream.
“This is your reminder to feed the fish.”
Alexa Keith, the man-hating serial killer. Alexa, the device that controlled my music and made me lazier than I should be because she had all the information, and all I had to do was ask her for it. It was too much Alexa for me, and it felt like my brain was going to explode.
It might have been a good time to mention that I was hormonal. I was one of those women who got PMS for a week. I wasn’t a snappy bitch with it, but it definitely impacted my emotions and psyche.