"As much as I love you in my clothes, I need you naked."
I threw off his shirt and pulled him tight against me, but he pushed off my burning flesh.
"Wait I need to see you."
Kill sat back on his knees and studied my naked skin. Goosebumps broke out as his eyes caressed me.
"I fucking love you," he said before standing up and pulling off his clothes.
When I saw him in all his naked sexy glory, I murmured in appreciation, "I fucking love you."
He jumped on me, and our actions became frenzied once again. When we were spent, I lay on Kill's chest.
"How long do you get to stay?"
"I have to leave early in the morning."
"I miss you."
"I miss you too."
"I'm glad you came, though."
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."
We both drifted off to sleep wrapped around each other. Later, Kill woke me up and we made love, touching each other no longer in the frantic state we were before. We reconnected memorizing every inch of our bodies while together.
In the morning, I woke up to an empty bed. My thoughts were bittersweet as I relived every touch. On my nightstand was a brownie and a note.
I miss you already.
I will be home soon.
Love you,
Your Killer.
Tears fell on the note, but I quickly brushed them away and unwrapped the brownie instead.
After getting out of the shower, I opened my laptop, wanting to do something productive instead of moping around.
Depression struck me hard as I delved into my former relationship where I’d changed Jason's name to Eric. I had to curb myself to writing only on the days I could stay in bed. Working or trying to do anything productive while writing about my past was close to impossible.
The nights I wrote, I avoided Kill. Too much of an wreck to talk to him, I was afraid he would do something foolish if he realized how emotional I was.
Jason's letters showed up more often. I didn’t open them, throwing them all into the box with the rest. Trent pushed me to read them, but I didn't want Jason's taunts to interfere with my writing. I secretly wondered if by not reading the letters Trent felt he wasn't needed. During our weekly coffee dates, I realized how dependent his knowledge about the letters had made me toward him.
Even though Kill was busy with the tour, he noticed me pulling away. I gave him the same excuse I’d given Ryan and Jessie, explaining I wanted to write something meaningful. He was reluctant, but as an artist, he seemed to understand.
As horrible as I felt, I couldn't stop myself from pulling away from Kill as I relived my past. I was facing my mistakes and putting them out there for all to see-or at least my English professor to read and judge. To admit the many times I’d been hurt and stayed was emotionally draining. I lost enough weight that Ryan and Jessie started coming over once a week to stuff me with food.
My dad worried about me as well, but I explained I was just trying to finish out my college career strong. I assumed Kill had called him to discuss my behavior. Martha even threatened to fly down to check on me. I assured everyone I was fine and just needed to focus on school.
I went shopping with Jessie and running with Ryan to appease them. The whole time I was out, my thoughts were consumed with my story. I’d convinced myself that if I finished writing every horrific thing down, it would no longer be locked inside me.
My teacher requested I meet with her at my convenience, but I blew her off, too scared to talk to the only person who’d read my life story. Even though it was under fictional characters' names, it would have been too much to have to discuss the inspiration behind the plot.
Two weeks before the semester came to an end, I ended Hope's journey. The last scene I typed was Hope's escape from Eric. I described the fear and relief she felt when she walked into the police station to obtain a restraining order. I left the story with Hope sitting in front of a dingy dive bar. She was terrified but eager to start her new life as she reached for her car’s door handle.
