“This is your chance, Sidney, to leave behind this bland boring as fuck life and come with me. Just admit that you want us to be together. I want to hear you say it.”
“What the—”
“You’re a killer too. I know you are. I can see it right there in your eyes.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t I? So you’re telling me you didn’t get a rush from watching my mother die?”
“No!”
“Let’s experiment, shall we?” He sets me free, releasing his hold on my hair and chin, and taking a step back. Then he takes another. And another. Leaving a free path to the open study door and the house beyond. His smile is as wide as can be and his eyes alight with some sick emotion. “What are you going to do, Sidney? Huh? What are you going to do?”
I don’t answer him. Words would be a waste of energy. What I do instead is sprint toward the kitchen. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. I am going to carve his heart out and end him for once and for all.
His hand reaches out for me, but too slowly. That’s one of the problems with bulking up…you get strong…but all of the extra muscle mass slows you down. The knife block sits on the counter near the entry to the dining room. I couldn’t have positioned it any better if I’d planned this. My fingers close tightly around the handle and yes. I am now armed. He reaches for my hair again, but it’s not long enough for him to hold tight. Not when I have some momentum.
Auggie is barking and scratching at the door. Such a good dog. But there’s no way for him to get in and lend his teeth. Just as well. I don’t want to risk him getting hurt.
It doesn’t take Ryan long to try again. This time he seizes a fistful of the back of my tee. There’s no good way for me to escape him in such close quarters. But I don’t want to get away from him now. Fuck no. I want to get in nice and close. His fist comes flying at me as I turn toward him, slamming into the middle of my face. Something cracks and warm wet blood gushes from my nose. For a second my vision darkens from the pain.
“Drop the knife, Sidney. Now.”
And that’s the one thing I am not going to do. This is not the first time I’ve been punched. I don’t freeze up in shock. I can take it and keep standing. He reaches for the knife but nope. Not happening. I won’t allow him to take it. He makes a grab, but I pull it back to my side.
“Fuck,” he yelps as his fingers only find the sharp edge of the blade.
Nice to know I am not the only one bleeding. I surge forward and sink the point into his stomach. The noise he makes is sostrange. Like I let the air out of him. His back arches and he rears back trying to escape my reach. Trying to protect his soft underbelly from me. When I lunge again, he’s backed up just enough to avoid the blade. But blood is making the floor so slippery. Not even those designer-brand tennis shoes can help him now.
He loses traction and tumbles to the ground. And I follow, landing on top of him. Humans really are creatures of habit. Because instead of trying to take the knife from me, he does his usual. Strong hands wrap tightly around my neck as he tries to squeeze the life out of me. The pain in my neck is excruciating and it only gets worse with each gasping breath I try to take. But I treat his big buff body like a pincushion and his hold weakens as I plunge the blade into him, over and over again. The handle is slippery with blood and gore. And a pool of blood surrounds us. Splatter covers the kitchen cabinets, reaching halfway up the wall.
His hands fall from me as his mouth opens slackly. Guess he’s going to go out like his mom, with those same bloody bubbles on his lips. Though I am going to enjoy watching him die far more than I did Dianne.
“See,” he says in a weak voice with a sloppy smile, “you are a killer.”
Hard to disagree with him, but I keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t get another word from me. And once this moment is finished, as soon he takes his last breath, I will do my best to never think about him again.
“You wait…I bet you’ve got a taste for it now,” he whispers. Then he’s as still as the body he left in the living room. His eyes staring up at me blankly.
The knife falls from my hand and clatters to the floor. I can’t quite believe it. After all these years he’s really dead. I am finally free of him.
“Baby,” utters Noah, from where he stands in the doorway. So much shock in his gaze.
And yeah…I don’t know what to say.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Noah gently wipes my face clean with a damp cloth. There’s nothing he can do about the state of my clothes. Killing Ryan was a messy experience in the extreme. My broken nose is a dull throbbing sensation buried in the background of all the various thoughts and feelings. This is a lot. But then it should be a lot.
We’re seated outside on the front steps. Getting out in the fresh air and away from the dead bodies and blood splatter seemed like a good idea. Auggie is much happier since we’ve been reunited. He doesn’t seem to mind being my emotional support animal at all. Because I am patting him like my life depends on it—such a good boy.
“You called her?” I ask for probably not the first time. It’s like my mind isn’t accepting any new information. Guess I am in shock. Finding a dead body in your house and butchering your ex deserves big feelings.
“Detective Hahn is on her way,” says Noah. “Give me your hands. Are you sure you don’t want me to go find some painkillers?”
“I am okay for now. Thanks.”
No one is paying us any attention. Not yet. The old couple across the street are working in their garden. And one of the college students at the share house reads a book on their front porch. What must it be like to live a quiet normal life? To have no part in murder and mayhem. One day I would sincerely like to know.
