Them

Boris was offered counseling, but he turned it down. He was perfectly comfortable with his anger because that would be his driving force to go after Stone. It was the embarrassment and humiliation that really fucked with his mind. Even though he knew he shouldn’t be, he was too embarrassed to discuss with a therapist how he had been reduced to having to wear diapers, paraded around naked in front of strangers, chained down to a cot, and, worst of all, having Stone get the better of him and lord over him as she had. He tried to tell himself not to give a shit what she thought, but it truly bothered him to know that, in her mind, she had won. She had gotten the better of him. She had taken control. She had gotten what she wanted. Of course she tipped the police off to their whereabouts when she split. She wanted him and the detective to have to live with the emotional damage she had inflicted. Their physical scars would heal, but their minds were a different story. Well, she may feel triumphant for now, but Boris would change that. So what if she was in Montenegro? He would find her there. Just because he couldn’t get her back to the States to face justice didn’t mean he couldn’t go over there and deliver his own brand of justice. Yes, he would have preferred for her to rot in a prison cell for years for her crimes and then, if she ever got out and he got a little lucky, for her to have to endure being his client once again. And his obsession. He used to deny it or play it down when others would insist he was obsessed with her, but now it was the last thing he would deny to himself or anyone else, for that matter. He would never give up on her. He would find her and torture her to death if it were the last thing he ever did. Others wanted him to simply settle for being glad he’d survived his ordeal. Not good enough. Not good enough at all. He had gotten offers to do TV interviews from reputable sources but had mixed emotions about doing them. In case Stone ever saw it, he wanted to give her a piece of his mind, but he also didn’t want to tip anyone off to what he had planned. Also, doing an interview meant going through those embarrassing moments, and he wasn’t about to discuss his time in diapers on American television. He was sitting alone in bed finishing his boring breakfast when the local chief of police entered his hospital room. He rapped on the partially closed door. “Yeah?” called Boris. Chief Carter stepped into view. “Hello, Boris. I’m Chief Carter, the one Janelle Stone emailed.” “Oh, hi there, Chief,” Boris said, making a weak attempt at a smile. “How are you feeling?” What a stupid question, thought Boris. “About as good as can be expected,” he said. “What’s up?” “Well, I just thought I’d let you know, for what it may be worth, that we’re doing all we can to try to get Montenegro to cooperate with us, but it may take some time.” “So, no idea exactly where this sicko is hiding out over there?” “Not the exact area, no. We know she landed in Budva, but not her exact location.” “I suppose there was no luck tracing the email?” The chief sighed with frustration. “Unfortunately, not. Our tech team is still working on it, but they didn’t sound very hopeful at all when I last talked to them. I know it’s hard, but the best we can do for now is wait. Sooner or later, she’s going to fuck up.” “Yeah, but she can fuck up all she wants if she’s untouchable in Montenegro.” “That’s exactly why we’re working really hard on this case. We’re not going to give up.” Neither am I, Boris thought to himself. “I know you’ve already given statements to some of my officers, but is there anything else you can think of that may be useful?” Boris shook his head. As humiliating as it had been to go through, he had already provided everything he remembered. “Nothing more than what I’ve already told you guys. I mean, if you knew who she was, you would recognize her, but if you didn’t know her, then you likely wouldn’t. The people she’s living near in Montenegro probably don’t have a clue who she is. She’s got her stringy hair bleached blonde, and there was something different about her face. I can’t pinpoint it, but again, I knew right away it was her. I also could see that something was a little different.” “Did she wear contacts?” the chief asked. “No. Her eyes were still brown and would turn jet black the angrier she got. Spookiest thing ever.” “Yeah, in all the reading I’ve done on the case and the interviews I’ve seen, I’ve heard that’s a well-known trait of hers. That would seem a little freaky. In fact, I even saw her eyes change color during an interview where they had her talking about trivial things, where her eyes appeared to be the color of weak tea. But as soon as they started talking about what she didn’t want to talk about, they were blacker than midnight.” They talked for a little while longer, and then Boris wondered how long it would be before he would be well enough to head over to Montenegro. Fortunately for him, he had some money in savings and a couple of weeks of vacation time accrued. He could already hear people in his mind trying to talk him out of what he had planned, saying she wasn’t worth spending his money and vacation time on, but as far as he was concerned, Janelle Stone was worth spending everything he had on—except for his life.