Sadistic Games: The Invitation Read online

  Sadistic Games

  Book 1

  Lucian Bane

  © 2018 by Lucian Bane

  All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Lucian Bane or his legal representative.

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  Dedication

  To My Wife. With All My Love.

  C H A P T E R O N E

  READY OR NOT

  The pores in Mordecai’s hands wept in joy with the data.

  Like sipping aged wine, he didn’t rush as he situated himself at the black metal desk in his favorite library burrowed on the third floor of his home.

  Placing his precisely worn journal on the bare desk, he opened the left drawer and retrieved the wooden box holding the Elite Font pen.

  He stroked the raised scroll work along its surface long enough to bring his mind to a salivating edge. The lid hinges squeaked as he lifted it and Mordecai allowed his gaze to caress the silver swirls engraving its slim body. While he wasn’t a fan of most types of heat, he’d long accepted that the burning euphoria this tiny tool held would forever be an exception.

  He removed the cap, recording the perfect shick sound it gave before he placed the celebrated item to the right of the journal. Adjusting the pen in his hand to perform the special lettering, Mordecai began to channel his victory onto the paper. Slowly. Carefully.

  It was only when recording things of certainty, things that held indelible checkmate power did he use the esteemed typeface.

  He’d been studying her for over a year. Learning her inside and out to the extent his distance allowed. But his thesis required much more. And he’d used all the carefully crafted pieces to situate her into the perfect predicament. A deadlock that would bring her right where he needed her to be in order to complete his experiment—the same space, breathing the same air. All the interior details hidden by physical gaps would be gone and she’d be there for him to explore, to study and test.

  At first he’d bucked the assignment his Professor had given him, knowing this very step would eventually be required if he were to actually prove his thesis. The conundrum itself morphed almost instantly into mental crack. The second he knew he couldn’t and shouldn’t pursue what he planned, he then knew he must and would.

  ****

  “Ohhhhh noooo,” Miriam groaned, staring at the impossible paper before her. That devil never rests. She plopped onto her tattered couch and let her head fall back on the cushion with another moan. Before she could think the words why God, she scrubbed them from her mind like a germ. It was a germ, and she’d not allow it. She opened her eyes instead and presented the devil with her prettiest smile. “Thank you God for ordering all my steps and making straight the crooked paths.”

  She took a deep breath, sucking the truth into her lungs and letting it out in a slow, calming breath. She eyed the eviction paper for a few seconds then crumbled it up in her hand. “Must be time to move,” she said happily, hopping up from the couch and retrieving her laptop.

  She pulled up local listings and proceeded to lecture herself, “God knows how much money you don’t have, and he knows your needs so don’t even go there.” Almost the second she said it, her eyes landed on an ad.

  Will rent out room in exchange for help with studies. Call for details.

  (222) 692-2262. Ask for Mordecai.

  Miriam couldn’t stop the smile blooming on her face. “God, you are fast,” she whispered, hopping up to retrieve her cell. Sitting back on the couch, she eyed the number on the screen as she dialed.

  Her heart hammered as she stood, listening to the ring. She bit her tongue on begging for it to still be available. If God wanted her to have it, it would.

  “Hello?”

  Her breath froze momentarily. “Hi! I’m Miriam. I’m calling about your ad? In the paper, the um, room for rent in exchange for help with studies?”

  “Yes,” he said. “It’s still available.”

  She let out a huge breath of relief. “Wow,” she said. “I just… you know I walked into my house today and found an eviction notice?”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said, sounding genuine.

  “But then I go online to find something else and your ad is the first one I came to. And it’s still available?” she asked, allowing herself to double check.

  “It is,” he said, sounding impressed. “I was thinking I might never get a renter.”

  “How long have you waited?”

  “Well, it’s been two months.”

  She let herself laugh. “Wow. Oh,” she remembered. “You need help with studies? I mean, can I have all the rest of the details?”

  “Sure,” he said. “The room is on the third floor, if that’s okay.”

  “Third floor,” she repeated her eyes wide. “Is this an apartment building?”

  “No, it’s my home. I own The Strider House.

  Miriam sucked in a breath. “Really? By yourself?”

  He gave a chuckle. “My parents left me a little money. I’m good with math and predictions, so stocks have been kind to me.”

  Her brain quickly did its own deductions. Why would a man with that much money need to rent out a room? In exchange for help with studying, not rent. But why not pay for a tutor why invite somebody to live with him?

  “If you need time to think, I understand.”

  “Oh, sorry, I was, I was thinking,” she laughed. “Right on the phone while talking. I have poor phone etiquette,” she admitted. “Not a phone talker.”

  “Me either,” he said. This time her ears strained to pick up more about him. “You’re probably wondering why a rich guy like me needs to exchange for anything.”

  “Oh!” she gushed again. “I… I did, yes. Actually wonder that.”

  “I’ll be straight forward with you. My thesis requires something unusual for me to validate. The hands on stuff,” he said.

  The unexpected explanation threw her for a huge loop. “Oh, don’t I know it,” she said, interested and curious now.

  “And I have gotten numerous calls from people wanting to take the offer but the devil is in the details as they say. Their details in this case.”

  “I see. Kind of.”

  “I uh… have certain requirements and boundaries that most people fail to meet when I interview them. Would you like to know them so you can decide if this arrangement is a good fit for you?”

  Her brain began to sputter, feeling like it was getting more details than she could process, details she needed to process. “And… what… what school do you go to?”

  “Sienna College.”

  “I go there,” she said happily while running the Mordecai name through her head. She sucked in a breath. “You’re Mordecai Riddle?”

  He gave a light laugh. “I am.”

  “I mean the same one that shares a philosophy class with me?”

  “You remember me.”

  “I’m… I’m a Christian and your name is… is dear to me.” Dear to me? “A dear… biblical name, one that is unique and infrequently heard.”

  “I understand,” he said, his
voice light with humor.

  She struggled to think what came next. “The details. Yes, I’d like to know them. Please.”

  “Of course. Well… you must be single. I do apologize for that but my thesis is important and I cannot have—"

  “I’m single,” she cut in, wanting to spare him the explanation. She was sure he was about to say he didn’t want the distraction. Neither did she which is why she was.

  “Perfect,” he said. “No smoking. No drinking. And there is a curfew. My home is to be locked down by 8:00 PM in the weekday evenings, 10:00 PM on weekends. I demand cleanliness at all times. A place for everything and everything in its place. I do not permit the cooking of red meat in my home. I’m not a vegetarian, I’m merely allergic. No loud noises and company should be visited away from the residence. So far so good?” he asked.

  “Oh… so far, I believe those items are doable for me,” she said, mentally double checking each. “Yes. Very doable. Is that all?”

  “One more.”

  She held her breath feeling like she was one step away from the perfect situation, and this final thing had the power to ruin it all.

  “When I said I needed somebody to help with studies, I meant it in the sense that I needed somebody to…. study.”

  She paused her erratic pacing. “Study? How so?” she blurted, wishing she had brakes on her tongue.

  “My thesis requires close habitation with another human.”

  Her brows rose with that. “Close… habitation?”

  “We wouldn’t share a bedroom of course, only all other spaces for lengths of time.”

  She was officially intrigued beyond masking. “May I ask what your thesis is?”

  “You can,” he said.

  The fact that he didn’t just volunteer it added more beats to her already pounding pulse. “What is your thesis?”

  ****

  The call had come faster than he’d predicted. It wasn’t a loss, but a quicker win. And now he was at that long-awaited threshold, the final card, the final play. “My thesis is debunking the Chaos theory.”

  The silence on the line made him grin. He wagered her brows were raised, and she wore that look she often got—the curious burning one. “How…”

  “How on earth do I plan on proving that with another human?”

  “Yes,” she all but gasped, excitement bubbling in her tone. Because she too shared the same theory, he knew for the most part.

  “Because humans come as close to the chaotic theory as I can get. With the right pattern comparisons, I can prove that the Chaos theory is really the same as the human condition.”

  “Which is… predictable.”

  “Very. You just have to find the pattern. The Chaos theory is merely an unsolved equation, and I’d like to solve it.”

  “Wow.”

  The single breathed word held as much astonishment as it did excitement. “But… how do you plan to…”

  He gave an easy chuckle. “I can’t tell you all my secrets.”

  “Right,” she laughed, sounding as though she’d been whirled through a vortex of the most unanticipated turn. “Talk about chaos in my head right now,” she gushed, laughing. “Whoa, my mind is… kind of careening, uh. Let me think a second.”

  “Take a day,” he suggested, sliding his finger along the edge of the kitchen granite.

  “Welllll, I kinda don’t have a day. Does Professor Dorchester know you’re… conducting this?”

  “He does, and he laughed.”

  “Why did he laugh?”

  “He thinks I’ll never find anybody that would allow me to study them.”

  She gave a snort. “Always the pessimistic, that one is.”

  “Devil’s advocate twenty-four seven.”

  She guffawed, and he held the phone from his ear momentarily at the raucous pitch. “Well, I happen to need a place to stay pronto and I happen to really like the sound of your theory and might be really fascinated and giddy that I might actually play a part in proving it! Wow, I said might like fifty times,” she added, sounding awed.

  “Really?” he asked. “You’ll do it?”

  She choked out several sputters. “Really, really. I… Yes. Yes, I will do this. I mean there won’t be anything weird you’ll make me do, right?”

  “Just be yourself and live your life. I’ll just watch and extract the information you aren’t even aware that you give.” More astonished sounds while Mordecai pulled out a special bottle of his finest kosher wine to celebrate.

  “When… I mean how soon can I move?”

  “I can have you moved tomorrow if you want.”

  “I can… well, technically I have anything to move,” she muttered, realizing what he already knew.

  “It’s fully furnished,” he reminded her. “Just bring your personal belongings. Did I mention I’ll provide food and prepare it?”

  “Uh… no, you… I don’t think you did. That’s not necessary, I—”

  “Please. I insist. It’s not a rule but… it’s one of my… strong preferences.”

  “One of them? Do you have many of those?”

  “Yes, but none that would concern you.”

  “Okay,” she said. The intrigue in her tone nearly matched her obvious plan to discover all of them. As he wagered she would. “I do hope you realize it’ll be a little hard to have any privacy with your arrangements?”

  “I’m well aware. And prepared to make the sacrifice.”

  A moment of pause before, “Well then… so am I.”

  “I can have you and your things picked up this evening if you like. That way you can be settled for school tomorrow.”

  “Oh wow, I just realized. I can actually walk to school from your home!”

  “You can.”

  “Holy, moley. This evening?”

  “I can have somebody there in two hours. Is that enough time?”

  She made sputtered noises, clearly not expecting things to work out so quickly.

  “We can wait till tomorrow if it’s too soon.”

  “No,” she hurried, “I’m just… amazed, I guess. Two hours is plenty of time. I literally have like two trash-bags worth of belongings.

  He hadn’t known how many trash bags it would take to hold her belongings, but he’d wagered very few. Not as few as two, though. Even though she lived a chaotic life, she was frugal, both out of necessity and habit. Habits formed in her early life that he had to know and understand. And would. “How about I call you ten minutes before they leave to fetch you,” he said.

  “Okay,” she agreed, the smile in her voice painting a perfect picture of the one no doubt filling her face. “I’ll be ready for fetching.”

  Mordecai allowed himself to imagine her face. She was beautiful by most standards. Naturally happy, naturally hopeful and optimistic. All things he needed to explore, study, test. With great vigor. “I’ll see you this evening, then. Thank you, Miriam.”

  C H A P T E R T W O

  COME TO ME

  The second he hung up, Miriam was puzzled, trying to recall if she’d given her name. Of course she had. Or he remembered her from class the way she did him. She hurried to the couch and sat, needing to steady herself and her reeling mind.

  Mordecai.

  She shot off the couch at her sudden racing pulse. No, no, no, no, don’t start that nonsense, she told her body. It was ever-curious and ever-demanding. Biology had been her greatest nemesis in college. Like an errant child wanting to constantly taste and explore all things, especially the things girls would normally engage in—boys. She’d had to beat herself back as much as she beat back the guys!

  But never Mordecai.

  He was one of those quiet ones that kept to themselves. The kind of person you were allowed to think about because they weren’t trying to pursue you. The kind it was safe to contemplate, consider, casually watch and wonder over—all things she’d done with him. Like why didn’t he have a girlfriend? Why was he clearly not interested in girls? Or boys, for that ma
tter?

  Maybe he was homosexual. Would be sad, but it would make him that much safer to be with if he was.

  She could do this. As he said they weren’t sharing a bedroom, just… the rest of the space.

  She found herself pacing again. What did studying her actually constitute? Would he do a lot of staring? God, she wasn’t sure she could handle that. She was already awkward in crowds.

  She hurried for her backpack and sat on the couch, going over his rules. Biting off the cap on her pen, she flipped her notebook out and turned to the first clean sheet. “No loud noises,” she began scribbling. “No visitors. Curfew 8:00 PM weekdays. 10:00 PM weekends.” She paused, considering that one in the privacy of her own thoughts. “Huh. That’s actually perfect.” She tapped the pen on the paper. “No red meat,” she wrote, underlining it twice. “What kind of allergy do you have, Mr. Mordecai?” She tried to remember his other conditions. “No boyfriends,” she added, nodding. “Easy-peasy. Oh, and he cooks,” she wrote, smiling. “No arguments there, I suck at that.”

  Was that it? Ah crap. Clean. “Everything has a place and everything in its place.” Did he know her father or what? “I can do clean,” she assured herself. Just need to keep my mind on it. Little sticky notes.

  For the first time, she considered his voice. He had a soft voice on the phone. Well, not soft like feminine soft… more like… hard and kind of deep but… smooth.

  She’d only heard him speak once in class for an oral report. He seemed perfectly at home in his skin, even making eye contact with the class while he presented his case on the Solution for Pollution. She was sure that was the first time she’d taken extra interest in him. Admired the way he was able to speak so eloquently and boldly while being an otherwise… lurker.

  Rich lurker. Wow. Who knew?

  Probably everybody but her. But she purposely didn’t dig into people’s business for the simple fact she needed to focus. She had a hard enough time as it was, she didn’t need to feed any of her weaknesses.