Текст книги "Bang"

Автор книги: E. K. Blair

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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

I nod.

“What responsibility does your father hold in all of this?”

“My father was a good man,” I declare.

“I’m not taking that away from him. But everyone has two sides, and your father was a gun trafficker, was he not?”

Taking a moment, I concur, “Yeah. He was. But he never hurt anyone.”

“But he knew the illegal guns would hurt someone. He may not have been the one to pull the actual trigger, but in a way, he did pull that trigger,” he says before adding, “And it wouldn’t have mattered what Bennett ever said, the fact is, if your dad hadn’t been dealing in something illegal, Bennett’s claim would have been dropped and nothing would have ever happened.”

“I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to be the voice of reason, but I’ve never claimed to be a rational or reasonable person.”

“Have you ever had a voice of reason?” he questions.

“I’ve only ever had Pike, and he’s just as screwed up as I am, if not more. We’re sick people; I know this. But when you grow up like we did, you can’t expect sanity,” I say. “My father was good. He didn’t deserve the life that was dealt to him after what Bennett did. I didn’t deserve it either. The thing is, there will always be someone next in line after my father. The gun trafficking doesn’t stop, so what’s the point? The world isn’t suddenly good now that my father isn’t here.”

“So you plot to kill?”

“I used to fantasize about what it would feel like to kill when I was a kid,” I admit. “The thought brought me a sense of satisfaction and elated me. Relief. Freedom. Peace. To eliminate the truly bad, removing it so that you no longer have to exist in a world where it does.”

“You can’t live like that. Killing and holding on to the past.”

“I’m not holding on to it, I’m trying to let it go.”

“You haven’t let it go. Instead, you married it, and now it’s controlling every aspect of your life. You met a man you love, but Bennett has power over that because he’s your husband and you were forced to fill this other man with lies . . . because of Bennett—because of the past you are refusing to let go of.”

His words hit me hard. But how do you let go of a wound that is cut so deep there’s no chance of it ever healing, at least not without an ugly scar to remind you of it? So I simply ask, “How do I let go?”

“It’s easy, really. You find what makes you happy, and you walk towards it, leaving the past behind,” he tells me. “So what you need to ask yourself is, what makes you happy?”

“Declan.” My answer comes without any second thought or hesitation.

“Then go to him. Go find him and don’t look back. Soon the happiness will be enough to weaken the control the past has on you, and it won’t hurt as badly as it does right now.”

“But I’m here. How do I get back?” I ask and watch as he makes his way to the edge of the leaf, and when we pass a log floating in the water, he slides onto it when the bark meets the lily pad.

“Carnegie, wait! How do I get back?” I ask as I begin to drift away from the log.

“There are signs everywhere. You just have to look for them,” he tells me. “Come back and visit me, okay?”

“I do. Every night in my dreams.”

“Those are dreams though.”

“Is this not a dream?” I ask, suddenly very confused about what this is, and his response doesn’t help when he says, “This is your awakening,” before scooting his spiraled body down the length of the log and eventually disappearing into the forest.

I continue to float aimlessly around the pond, staring up into the sky, thinking about everything Carnegie said to me. He’s right; I need to walk away from my past if I don’t want it to follow me.

Hours pass as I enjoy the serene tranquility of my surroundings, and when I see the shimmer of the sun rising through the trees in the distance, its sparkling rays light up the murky water. It’s then that I see my sign. Green bulbs that stick out of the water begin to open, hundreds of them. One by one, lotus flowers bloom, spreading their pure white petals over the muddled water. They’re beautiful, and when I float into the blooms, I have to squint against the bright light that the sun’s glow is creating in this fragrant, white paradise.

DARKNESS.

Nothing but black as I lie here awake, although I’m not awake. I can feel a warm hand stroking my arm as I inhale a familiar smell.

Bennett.

My body aches, throbbing in a dulled pain, but when I try to move, I can’t. When I try to open my eyes, I can’t. But I can feel Bennett’s touch. I can smell him. I can hear the steady beeping of a machine that alerts me to the fact that I’m in a hospital.

The last thing I remember is lying helplessly on my dining room floor while Pike threw kick after violent kick to my stomach.

My stomach!

My baby!

I can’t wake up. But do I even want to? I already miss Carnegie. Do I really want to wake up to find the horror that’s waiting for me? What happened with Pike? Why did he do it?

“Mr. Vanderwal,” a soft, female voice says, but I can’t see anything as I lie here in my comatose state.

“Finally,” he says with an urgency to his voice. “What’s going on? Is she going to be okay?”

“She’s stabilized, but she had a lot of internal bleeding. Unfortunately, there was a fetomaternal hemorrhage and by the time she arrived here by ambulance, she had already lost the baby.”

No! God, no!

With all the strength I have, I try to move, I try to do anything, but nothing happens. I’m stuck, unable to get out a cry, a scream, a movement, something to release the torment that is beginning to flood inside of me.

“Baby?” Bennett questions. “What baby?”

Oh, God.

“Your wife was pregnant.”

“No. There must be some mistake. My wife has endometriosis. She can’t get pregnant,” he refutes.

“I’m so sorry. I know this is a difficult time, but according to her OB/GYN file that was faxed over, it seems the pregnancy was confirmed last week. I have noted that an ultrasound was performed, indicating at that time, she was nearly ten weeks pregnant.”

I don’t hear a response from Bennett, and I can only imagine his shock right now.

Bennett, speak. Say something.

“I’ll give you some time,” she says. “I’ll be back to check in. If you need anything, just hit the call button, okay?”

“Yeah,” he responds on a breath, and when I hear the door click, he removes his hand from my arm, and the room is silent.

I can’t even think about Bennett, all I can think about is my baby. The baby that Pike took away from me. The baby that Pike killed. He knew exactly what he was doing, beating my stomach as violently as he did.

I hate him.

I thrash around like a maniac inside, trying to free myself, but my body doesn’t respond. I’m paralyzed in this bed.

“She’s in the hospital,” Bennett says, but I don’t hear anyone else in the room.

“I need you to get here now,” he demands. “Bring everything you have on her.”

He has to be on the phone, but what the hell is he talking about? Who is he talking to and what do they have on me? Fuck. What’s going on? I need to get out of here. I need to find Declan. I can’t breathe. Oh my God, I’m panicking and I can’t breathe. Machines start to go off, filling the room with loud beeps.

“Nurse!” Bennett yells, and moments later, a cold fluid swims through my veins and I drift out peacefully.

“WHAT THE HELL happened?” I hear a man’s voice say. It sounds familiar, but my head is so fuzzy as I come out of a deep sleep.

“I got a call from Clara. She had come to the penthouse and found Nina beaten and unconscious. I don’t know what happened. I’ve spoken to the police and they’re investigating,” Bennett says. “Tell me what you know.”

“You wanna do this here?” the man questions.

“Yeah.”

“Her name’s not Nina.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no.

“What are you talking about?” Bennett asks.

“Her name is Elizabeth Archer. A runaway foster kid,” he reveals. “It’s all in the file.”

“Archer? Sounds familiar.”

It should, you asshole.

“Her father was arrested for international gun trafficking,” the man says.

“I know her.”

“Looks like she came straight for you. Piece of advice . . . call your lawyer.”

“As soon as you can, I want surveillance set up,” Bennett demands, but there’s no need. I’m done with him, and the only thing I’m guilty of is identity theft.

“The affair you originally suspected, she’s having one. Name is Declan McKinnon.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. “What is she up to?”

“Here’s the file. Everything’s in it.” There’s a long pause before the guy speaks again, saying, “I’ll get security set up. Everything should be in place tomorrow or the next day.”

The door clicks and I know I’m alone with Bennett, and that freaks me out, because I no longer have control. He’s not a stupid man. If he hasn’t already figured it out, it won’t be long before he does.

Fuck! Why can’t I wake up?

“Elizabeth,” he whispers, and I can tell it just clicked by his acknowledging tone. “I always wondered what happened to you.”

Bullshit.

“Rick,” he says, speaking our attorney’s name. “Things could be better. Look, I have something that can’t wait. When can you see me?”

What’s he going to do? Shit. As much as I hate Pike right now, I need him.

“No, that works. I’ll leave right now.”

I listen to the movements around the room when a female voice says, “I need to change a couple of her bandages.”

“That’s fine. I was just leaving,” Bennett responds. “Here’s my card. I want you to call me the second she wakes up, and I mean the second.”

He leaves, and I continue to lie here in my comatose state, unable to react to anything. I don’t know what I’m doing or what’s going to happen to me. I need to run, to go find Pike. I hate that I still need him, but things are headed south, and fast.

I KNOW HE’S here. I can smell lotus blooms, and with that alone, the pinching angst that’s been festering relents and I feel safe. His hand is on my belly, another combing through my hair, and I will myself to open my eyes. To move, to do anything to let him know I can feel him. My body hurts so badly as my muscles start to flex and shift.

That’s it. Come on; wake up. Wake up.

“Nina?” he says, his voice is sad, but I need to hear it. I need that voice to pull me out of this darkness.

“Can you hear me?” he asks, grabbing my hand, and finally, I can feel my fingers move. “Baby, please wake up. Just open your eyes. Show me you’re still with me.”

I cling to his words, and light finally filters in. My eyes blink, responding to my body’s request.

“Thank God,” he sighs in relief as my blurred vision begins to clear. He leans over me, kissing my forehead, and I reach up, grabbing for any part of him.

“I’m here, darling,” he assure as I clench on to his shirt, and his hand covers mine. “I’m here,” he continues to soothe, and when I try to speak, I gag. “Shh, relax. You have a breathing tube down your throat. Just relax, okay?”

I nod, taking in a few deep breaths, allowing his soft, whispered accent to calm me, and notice the single, white lotus flower that’s lying on the bed beside me.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. When I didn’t hear from you, I called all over until I found you here.”

I reach up and touch the tube coming out of my mouth and shake my head, needing to tell him that when I leave here, I’m going home with him. I need him to know it’s over with Bennett and that it’s him I want, but he takes my hand away, reading me well, saying, “It’s fine. You don’t need to say anything.” His eyes are hard and serious when he says, “You’ll never go back to that bastard again. You’re coming home with me. I should have never let you leave my place the other night.”

I nod, agreeing with everything he’s saying.

“He’s never going to touch you again.”

I place my hand over the one he still has on my belly and the emptiness is too much as I begin to cry. He keeps his eyes on my stomach, fisting my hospital gown in his hand. His face pinches, as if he’s trying to brace himself for the worst when he finally asks, his voice coming out hoarse, “Please tell me our baby is okay.”

And when he finally brings his eyes to mine, I can already feel the salts eating away at my flesh as they spill out. He drops his head and releases a God-awful sob, and I do what I can to give him comfort as I run my fingers deep into his hair, gripping it tightly in my hand as he rests his head on my stomach. Seeing him in this much pain, this strong man who is always in so much control, is unbearable.

His shoulders hunch over and heave as he silently breaks. I want to be swallowed up by anything, just to be taken far away from this life, but I want to take Declan with me. I’ll always want him with me, and when he lifts his head, I notice the blackness of his eyes. His jaw grinds and I watch the muscles along his arms constricting. I begin to shake my head as I witness his transformation—the one I had been leading him to make. My heart slams against my broken ribs, and when I grab ahold of his wrists, he snaps, “I’m going to kill that motherfucker.”

No, no, no!

I shake my head, and he moves quickly to kiss the corner of my mouth, looking me in the eyes, forcing his words deep inside of me, saying, “That was our baby. My baby.”

Frantically, I cling my arms around him, needing him to stay with me, but he pulls back, telling me, “I’m not losing you. I love you too much, but that fucker is going to pay.”

I start clawing at the tube in my mouth, yanking it out of my throat, but begin gagging and choking as I watch him walk out of the room.

Declan, NO! You’re not a monster; don’t do this! Come back!

I thrash my body up, and I shriek through my gagging when the pain from my broken ribs shoots through me like a virulent fire. The machines are going wild, beeping and flashing, and two nurses rush into the room as I try ripping the tubes and wires away from me.

DECLAN!!!

“Hold still. You need to calm down,” the nurse scolds, but I can’t. He’s going to kill him. He can’t kill him.

He can’t.

Choking against the breathing tube, I’m pinned down as the one nurse removes it, and once it’s out, I wail in utter pain, scratching out a dreadful cry, “Declan!! NO! Stop him!”

“Who?”

“Please!” I belt out, but I’m still pinned down, and when I see the syringe, I freak. “No! Don’t! Please!!”

And in an instant, I’m a boulder, sinking like a thousand pounds, deep into the bed. I fight the drifting and weep, body and voice growing weaker with every passing second. I cry, powerless to stop what is bound to happen. I can’t lose the Declan I know, the Declan I love, because if he does this, he’ll never be the same. And in the end, I’ll have no one to blame but myself.

What have I done?

When I can’t hang on any longer, I slip under into a desolate sedation.

Alone.

TWO DAYS LATER

When I woke from my sedation, only a few hours had passed. And when the police came to inform me that my husband had been murdered in our home—shot two times in the head—I needed to be sedated again. Knowing what Declan had done—for me—pushed me over the edge.

Guilt . . .

I haven’t heard from him or seen him. I miss him. I worry about him. I’m scared for him. I haven’t called him because I’m scared to draw any attention, but I’ve texted him using the app on my phone that he gave me. There’s been no response though. Pike has been missing too. So here I am, having no idea what to do, and I’m all alone in a life I no longer want.

I couldn’t go home when I was discharged from the hospital this morning; I was too scared of what I would see. The police told me that one of the building’s residents made the call to 911 after hearing gunshots. There was no sign of forced entry though, and the police confiscated Bennett’s computer and files, among other things, as they move forward in the investigation.

So now I sit here in a hotel room, staring out the window, looking down on a city full of people, but I’ve never felt so isolated.

Where’s Declan? Why hasn’t he come for me?

I’ve been doing nothing but crying. People assume I’m mourning the loss of Bennett, but I’m not. The sick part of me is content with his death. My tears are for my baby and Declan. Never have I been so close to my fairytale ending, and now I hang by a thread while I wait for any type of contact from Declan. I’ve been looking for signs, signs that Carnegie told me were everywhere, but I can’t see beyond the pain of what I have lost so far and the birth of hatred for my brother. The one who promised me that he would always protect me and would fight forever to give me happiness. And then the moment I come within reach of that, he rips it away. I don’t know if I could ever forgive him for what he did, because now, all I can do is wish for his death. At the same time, a part of me needs him. To know I still have someone here on this Earth.

What if I lost it all? What if nobody comes for me?

The misery that thought produces overpowers all the aches my body feels from Pike’s beating. I couldn’t believe what he did to me when I finally saw my reflection in the mirror. My first instinct was to cover my face, but then I realized I have no one to hide from. It’s only me.

A pounding on the door startles me, and when I rush over to look through the peephole, my stomach sinks and coils in fear but also relief.

“Pike,” I breathe when I open the door and wrap my arms around him, crying hard for all the fucked up emotions I feel for him. Love and hate, it’s a bitter mixture.

He kicks the door closed and holds me close before pulling back. His face is white in horror, hands shaking as he runs them through his hair.

“What’s going on? How did you find me?”

“I went to see you at the hospital, but you weren’t there, and when you weren’t at home, I started calling everywhere looking for Nina Vanderwal.” His voice is panicked as he speaks. “We have a huge problem.”

“What do you mean?”

Pike paces back and forth like a maniac, telling me, “Declan knows.”

“Knows what?”

He turns to face me, on the verge of completely losing it, when he says, “About you. He knows your name. He’s knows you’re Elizabeth.”

“What?! How?” I go stiff, and my first thought is that I’ve already lost him. Pike doesn’t give me much time to think though as he continues.

“I don’t know, but when I was driving home earlier this morning, that fucker was waiting for me at the trailer.”

“Shit! What did he say?”

“Nothing. I saw him, knew exactly who it was, and drove off, never stopping. I went straight to Matt’s place and he said that some guy with an accent had called him the day before asking questions about you and me.”

“Oh my God,” I say, unable to catch my breath. “How does he know?”

“Don’t know, but you’ve gotta get rid of him. He knows too much. He could already be on his way to the police.”

“No,” I blurt out, trying to scramble my thoughts together. “He wouldn’t do that, would he? I mean, he’s the one who killed Bennett.”

“Are you willing to put your trust in a man you’ve only known for a few months, a man you conned, a man you drove to murder someone? This is no joke. You could go to prison if this got uncovered.”

The rampant fear running through me causes me to go lightheaded and I have to sit down. I can’t even think straight as I stare at the floor, trying to think of all the ways he could’ve found out. But the dagger here is how I deceived him and what he must be thinking, coming to the realization that he probably just killed a man for nothing but a lie—because that’s exactly what he just did.

“Elizabeth, you can’t sit here and wait. You have to go find him.”

“And do what?” I question as I look up at him.

He stands next to the couch where I sit, and with determination in his eyes, he says, “You have to kill him.”

“No.” I snap, jumping off the couch, and the pain from my ribs twinges and causes me to stumble. Pike just stands there, unmoving as he watches me. And with my hand clenched around my side, I argue, “No. I’m not doing that.”

“You don’t have a choice! Are you not hearing me? He knows about us.”

“I can’t kill him, Pike. I won’t do it.”

“Cut the shit and wake up! You’re not understanding what this could do to you,” he shouts.

“I love him.”

“You don’t. And in the end, you’re gonna see that you just got caught up in this fantasy. A fantasy that you and I both created for you. But it’s not your life.”

“It was my life! And then you came in and took it all away!” I yell, losing my cool and letting my emotions take over. “I do love him, and he loves me. I was finally going to have everything I’ve ever wanted. We were making plans for us, for our baby, and you destroyed it all! I hate you! I fucking hate you, Pike!”

He doesn’t flinch at my words as he stands here. “We had a plan and that plan affected both of us. Bennett needed to die—for you! If I didn’t do what I did, to push Declan over the edge, Bennett would still be alive and you’d never be able to forgive yourself for letting him go without any consequences for what he did to you.” He takes a step towards me, and his condescending tone on his next words do nothing but fuel my hate, not only for him, but for everything my life is. “Do I need to remind you about how Carl would rape you, piss on that mattress, and force you to lay in it while he pounded his filthy dick inside of you?”

“Fuck you!” I shriek as I start throwing fists into him, frantically beating him in the swarm of pure, seething fire.

He quickly grabs my wrists, forcing me down to the couch, and with his face in mine, hisses, “Either you kill him or I will.”

“Pike, no! Maybe he won’t do anything at all. Maybe he’s scared and will keep his mouth shut,” my words tumbling out, giving him weak reason after weak reason, but I’m desperate.

“A scared man wouldn’t have shown up to my place alone,” he says before letting go of me and walking to the door.

I lurch off the couch and throw my body against him, trying to knock him down, but in a flash, he turns and strikes his fist against my already battered face. The force of his punch sends me stumbling back and falling down. By the time I can get up on my feet, he’s gone.

“Shit!”

Adrenaline pumps its fury into my system, numbing all of my body’s pains as I run to the bedroom and grab my keys. Running out of the room, I waste no time with the elevator as I make a mad dash down the stairs, flight after flight after flight, until I finally make it to the lobby. My throat burns with each breath as I run to my car. Pike is nowhere in sight, and when I pull out of the garage, I have two choices: Lotus or River North. I make the quick decision to try Declan’s loft first, praying to anyone who will listen to me that he’s there and Pike isn’t. I fly through the busy streets, running stop signs and ignoring the red lights I hit.

“Fuck!” I bite out when I drive by Pike’s car parked a block down from Declan’s building.

Slamming on my brakes when I reach the front of the building, pain pierces my battered body as I run like hell, fumbling with the keycard Declan gave me, and when the elevator opens, I pound the button for his floor over and over as my body quakes in dread and anxiety.

“Come on, come on, come on. COME THE FUCK ON!” I scream with each floor we pass, and as soon as I hit the top floor, two rapid gunshots fire, echoing as the doors slide open.

Speaking isn’t even a possibility as I run out and into Declan’s living room where I see Pike charging through the loft and then look down at a massive puddle of blood pooling underneath the lifeless body of my prince.

A disgustingly vulgar shriek rips straight from the core of my heart as I run to Declan, falling to my knees in his blood. Touching his face, I try to take in the beauty of this perfectly sculpted man as I wail painfully over him.

“I’ve got it,” I hear Pike say as he rushes back into the room, shoving a file inside of his jacket. Pike’s hands are on me quick, pulling me back as I fight against him, screaming and crying. “We have to go!” he urges in a panic.

But I can’t speak; the agony is choking me into screeching cries filled with sharp gravel.

“Come on! We have to go. NOW!”

I cover Delcan’s body with mine, sealing my lips to his in a breathless kiss as the life drains out of him.

And then . . .

The touch is lost.

Pike has his arms banded around my chest as he lifts me off the floor and starts running.

“Let me go!” I scream, wincing against the pain of my injuries, as I thrash my arms, kicking, trying helplessly to fight my way out of his grip.

“We have to go before the cops get here.”

Pike slams through a door, and when we get into the stairwell, he sets me down and pins me against the wall, keeping his hands locked on me.

“Listen to me,” he says in a whispered grunt. “Pull yourself together before we both wind up in prison.”

“You killed him!” I cry, my words bleeding through the jagged fractures of my heart.

“To save us. I killed him to save us,” he defends. “You need to calm down and focus. Look into my eyes and focus.”

I do.

“You with me?” he asks.

I don’t respond when he adds, “I need you with me, okay? I’m all you have. Listen to me. I need you to do exactly what I say.” His words are frantically rushed. “Get in your car. Go home, pack a couple bags, and meet me at the trailer. Don’t answer the phone. Don’t speak to anyone. Got it?”

“What are we going to do?”

“We’re running. Don’t fuck around, Elizabeth. Now come on, we have to go!”

And he’s right, if we don’t get out of here now, our lives will be over. So in a mindless rush of fight or flight, I thoughtlessly fly down the stairs, covered in Declan’s blood as I flee towards a freedom I’m not sure even exists.

But I run anyway.

My hands clench the steering wheel, covered in the crimson life of the one man I thought could save me from me. But maybe people like me aren’t supposed to be saved. Maybe I’m just destined to bear the weight of the demons that lurk among the good.

When I arrive back at the penthouse, walking through the door as only one, no longer having my beacon of hope growing inside of me, I begin to wonder: What’s the point? I couldn’t even protect the baby that was supposed to be safe from this world. Life’s cruel joke of finally giving me something pure and holy, just to have it ripped away from me in an instant.

I don’t waste any time though, running straight to the bedroom, the smell of Bennett everywhere. I wonder if he’s watching me right now, laughing at the downfall, enjoying my suffering. The bile rises, and I begin slinging clothes in a mad haze into a bag, not even paying attention to what I’m throwing in. Simply moving for the sake of moving, but the actions are entirely thoughtless as the bitterness of my tears leak out and eat through my skin, burning their way back into me. Like a metaphor, reminding me that no matter what I do, I won’t ever escape this pain because the moment my body tries to release it, it soaks it right back up.

Fucking life. I hate you.

The world is nothing but a whirlwind of colors and flashing lights, swirling around me as I run back down to my car, not knowing what the next move is—where I go from here—what life holds for me now. Tossing my bag into the back of my car, I look over to the Rover next to it—Bennett’s car. And I think, if Bennett is laughing at me right now, does he deserve to be?

Probably so.

I don’t know how anyone could be more pathetic than I am right now.

Maybe I’ll show him how pathetic I can be; give him another reason to laugh at me.

I punch the security code on the door panel keypad and unlock the car. Opening the passenger door, I flip down the glove box and pull out the pistol that is always kept in there. I lock everything back up and toss the gun in the seat next to me as I pull out and head to Justice.

My thoughts are only on Declan as I drive, swerving around cars to get to a future I’m not sure wants me anymore. All I see are vibrant, green eyes, his beautiful smile that reached them, creating a fan of wrinkles in the corners. The contours of his shoulders and arms, the shoulders I would cling to and the arms he would soothe me with. His touch was unlike any other. Strong, comforting, warm, healing. His soul giving me a hope that maybe I could find happiness, and when I finally realized I had, and that it all rested inside of his heart, albeit tortured itself, he was able to give me something no one else has ever been able to do—something to look forward to.

I pull up to Pike’s trailer, a place I used to find solace because I knew he was always on the other side of that door. Now I fear what’s waiting for me behind it. But maybe it’s the fear I need to find my freedom.

Slipping the gun into the back waistband of my pants, I head inside.

“Finally. I was beginning to worry,” he says as he walks over to the window and peers out. “Anyone see you or follow you?”

“No one saw me,” I murmur as I fight the need to fall to the floor and sob like a baby. Instead I stand, mournfully numb.

“Why the fuck are you still covered in his blood?! For fuck’s sake, Elizabeth! Go clean that shit off of you.”

Looking down at my hands, they continue to shake; the life of Declan, crusted in now splintering pieces of browning carmine. I walk, almost robotically to the bathroom and close the door. My image, reflected in the mirror, is frightening. Bruises and a split lip remain from Pike’s beating, but the ugliness is adorned with Declan’s blood. It’s smeared across my lips and chin, the remainders of our kiss. The kiss of death. Sticking out my tongue, I lick it off, getting one last taste of that life, of that death. My death.

I turn the faucet on, but I can’t bring myself to wash off the blood. To take the lasting elements and watch them go down the drain of this filthy sink. Maybe I’m twisted, but the thought of licking every last drop of his dried blood off of me, like an animal, delights me. Taking him and making a home for him deep inside of me.

So I walk out, back into the living room where Pike has his bags tossed on the floor. He turns to look at me, cocking his head, and giving me a look of sympathy as he walks over to me.

“You can do this,” he says softly, taking his hands and stroking my upper arms. I’m not sure how I’m even breathing at this point with the noose that’s strangling me, slowly inching its way up, and any second, my neck will snap with a delicious sound, taking me to Wonderland.