Josie’s head snapped up at her name. She was shocked he knew it. Mark didn’t really seem the type to take much interest in people like her, the quiet, reserved one with a grey past and, as far as the world was concerned, nothing much to offer. Though, he did seem the type who liked to be in control. Perhaps knowing the names of those around him helped keep the ball in his court. After all, if you instantly addressed someone using their name when they weren’t expecting it, you could put them on the back foot and retain control of the conversation. Precisely what he’d just done to her. Anger bubbled inside her. The last thing she needed around was more controlling men. Of course, this was all speculation on her part, but it was too late to go back and consider that now. He was already set in her mind as a controlling, dominating male.

She looked up into his blue-green eyes and a face that seemed to radiate cool indifference. Suddenly, her thoughts took a familiar turn to a morbid place and she found herself wondering what his cries would sound like if she took a pair of toe-nail clippers to his eyelids.

Would he shout out in anguish, or mask his pain behind anger? Josie would have put money on the latter.

Josie was a being of pain. Driven by pain to inflict pain. She wanted people to understand what she suffered. Wanted others to know what it was to be powerless, helpless, with their body hurting in ways they didn’t think possible. She wanted people to share her pain, and she was good at it. Her father had taught her well. She knew it only took the slightest amount of pressure on the right spot and you could have a person in agony, only a small amount of force could break bone and even a blunt blade would tear flesh if you wielded it correctly.

When she’d taken her first human victim a year ago, something in the back of her mind had told her what she was doing was wrong, but her desire to inflict pain on the boy in her grasp had drowned the little voice out. That boy, Jamie Sorensen, probably hadn’t even known her name. He and Bobby Cole had just had a fight in the woods and, after beating him unconscious, Bobby had left him for dead. Poor Jamie didn’t stand a chance. He woke up, tied to a tree and spent the next few hours screaming for nobody to hear. Josie could still hear those screams echoing though her head if she closed her eyes and listened hard enough. Stupidity on her part had seen him escape and, despite her best efforts, she hadn’t been able to find him. For the next month she’d waited for the police to come knocking, but Jamie’s body never turned up and the rumour at school had been, Bobby Cole had killed him.

After all, who would suspect the weak, withdrawn Josie? She wasn’t the type.

Josie suddenly realised, she’d been just staring at Mark for several long seconds. She blinked. Crap. What had he asked her? Was she feeling confident? What was that supposed to mean? She decided to go with a general answer to cover all her bases.

‘Um, sorry. Yeah, I guess so. I’ve never been one to be overly self-assured,’ she replied quietly with a small smile, hoping that answered his question. She glanced past him at the counter. ‘I think you’re up.’

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