like proving I’m better than they are, but killing someone who’s chained up or so hurt they can’t do anything back to you, that’s like a canned hunt. There’s no enjoyment in that for me.”
“Then why were you glad?”
“Glad it was over and done,” Nicky said. “Glad we could get on with the next part of our job. Glad I could put the people out of their misery.”
“Are you saying you felt pity for them?”
“Maybe.”
“I saw some of your videos, Nicky. The man who did that had no pity for his victims.”
“I’ve seen your videos, too, Olaf. You enjoy the work a lot more than I did.”
“Do you think your victims hurt less because you did not enjoy it, Nick?”
“No.”
“Do you think they were less afraid because you didn’t enjoy their screams?”
“No,” Nicky said, and there was no emotion in the word.
“Do you think you’re better than me because you felt more for your victims?”
“No. If it’s morals you want to split, then I’m worse, because I had some pity, some feelings, and I still did it. I think that makes me worse.”
I looked at him between the seats. “Is it being tied to me metaphysically that makes you feel bad about it now?”
Nicky made a little waffling motion. “I don’t remember feeling bad about it before, so probably, but I know that I didn’t enjoy the harm I caused past a certain point. It stopped being exciting or sexual or anything remotely resembling an emotion I could explain to you, Anita.”
“You’re a werelion. You like blood and meat,” Olaf said.
“In my food, not in my sex.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’ve said it before, Olaf: I don’t care what you believe.”
I had a thought but wasn’t sure if I should share it out loud. I forgot that, with Nicky this close, a clear thought was enough, and I didn’t have to say it.
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” he said.
“Thank for you for admitting it,” Olaf said.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Olaf. I was talking to Anita.”
“She didn’t say anything— Ah, you read her mind again.”
“I did.”
“What did she think that was so right?”
“That I’m into edge play and risk-aware bondage, but you’re a serial killer, so once my victims were hurt past a certain point, I didn’t see it as sex, and you still do.”
“Those don’t sound like Anita’s words.”
“Nicky’s paraphrasing,” I said.
“What did you actually think?” Olaf asked.
“Nicky explained it better. Thoughts aren’t always as fully formed before you say them.”
“Do you do edge play and risk-aware bondage with Nicky?”
“If I say yes, will you drop this line of conversation?”
“No,” he said.
I said, “Then I’m not going to answer the question.”
“Nicky, do you need the bondage to have sex?”
“You mean, to get aroused enough for sex?” Nicky asked.
“Yes.”
“No, I can get it up without it. How about you? Do you need the violence to do it?”
“For the physical act, no.”
“How about to enjoy it?” Nicky asked.
“I will answer the question if you will,” Olaf said.
“Without the rough, it’s no fun, but I can do vanilla. I did it for some undercover work,” Nicky said.
“As did I, but without the rough, as you put it, it is not satisfying.”
I honestly hadn’t been entirely sure that Olaf could get it up without the extreme violence. It was strangely positive that he could, better than the alternative.
I could see the sheriff’s station up ahead. We were about to learn what the new evidence was, and I was going to get out of this conversation. Double win!
“Do you want to have children with Anita?” Olaf asked.
And just like that, we were back to being trapped in the conversation from hell.
“No,” Nicky said.
“Why not?”
“The woman who calls herself my mother is the one who took my eye when I was fourteen, and that’s just the scar I can’t hide. It’s not even close to the only one. She abused my younger brother and sister, too, but I was her special boy. My father knew and didn’t do a damn thing to protect us. With that as my pedigree, I don’t think I should breed.”
“So, you do not care if Anita has a child with one of the other men in your lives?”
“That is none of your business,” I said.
“No, it’s all right,” Nicky said. “I want to answer.”
I tried not to sigh and just motioned him on.
“The men she’s closest to are like family to me. Nathaniel calls me one of his brother-husbands, like the polygamist term sister-wife. If Anita wants to have kids with