Page 17 of Split You Open

My family has splintered apart and that madness that drove me to gutting and cutting in the first place—it’s back with a vengeance. The heartache and despair bleaching my soul is making me bloodthirsty. After both my parents passed, I told myself that I wouldn’t lose anyone else close to me. That the next person I loved would be in my life forever.

I’ve failed, though. Rhett and Blair are gone. And Ledger? The one that brought us all together in the first place—is the one tearing us apart.

Rage rises in my chest, so intense that I can hardly breathe.

“Ah… Santi?”

I blink rapidly, dispelling the notion of murder to find Mr. Slaw standing there staring at me with concern.

“You okay?” he asks, his white brows pinching together with concern.

Mentally, I give myself a shake and force myself to be present and non-murdery. While I would love to dive headfirst into a fierce and unstoppable killing spree, I’m a level-headed serial killer. I can’t just start chopping people up right here in The Shop.

“Yeah,” I mutter.

I ring him up and shove the bag at him.

He frowns. “I’ve never seen you not smile before. Are you sure you’re⁠—”

“I’m fine. Good-bye,” I snap, interrupting the old man as an idea takes root.

Ok, I can’t go on a murdering spree now… but what about in a few hours? I may not be able to do anything for Rhett and Blair right now and I certainly can’t give Ledger a piece of my mind while he’s gone.

But I can draw blood.

I can chop people up.

The law has never stopped me from killing before—why should I hold back now? Why not blow off a little bit of steam?

There are people out there who deserve to be on the receiving end of my rage and helplessness. It’s time to play my favorite game: The Hunt.

Mr. Shaw gives me a perplexed look but shuffles away toward the front of the store. I glare at his back then check the time. It’s four minutes until closing. Fuck it, I’m the shop manager and I say it’s time to lock up now.

“Hey everyone, we’re closing up!” I call. “You can come back tomorrow.”

The few patrons in the store look up and someone even has the nerve to remind me what time it is.

“I said,” I snarl. “Get the fuck out!”

“Wes!”

Oh god, he’s going to be so pissed at me. I totally deserve it—this was impulsive, stupid, and the exact wrong time to have this happen. It seemed like a great idea when it first came to me. And it was, until all my victims showed up at the same time. They looked at each other, saw the axe in my hand, the humanoid mask covering my face, and then scattered in different directions into the Gnarly Pines property.

Tossing my axe to the side, I rush up the porch steps, fling open the back door, and⁠—

“Ooph!” I slam into Wes’s chest as he steps out the same moment I try to rush in.

He tries to reach out to catch me but it’s too late. I bounce off him cartoonishly, legs flinging upward, and I land hard on my back.

I gasp, gaping like a fish, trying to fill my lungs with air as I stare up at Wes.

“What the hell, Santi?!” he demands. “What’s going on? Why are alerts going off all over the woods? Are we under attack?”

“No,” I rasp.

Wes reaches down, offering me his hand. I take it as I gobble up enough air to tell him what’s going on.

“I needed to blow off steam, so I might’ve lured a few assholes here to kill but then I overestimated my ability and now they’ve scattered.”