Page 39 of Kill Me

She breezes through the black beaded curtain that separates the two rooms, made up to perfection as always. Her waist-length neon pink hair is curled to within an inch of its life, her makeup is understated but still glamorous, and she’s dressed all in black. A signature look for her. Black leather trousers, her combat boots and a black graphic tee. She likes to look simple and not intimidating.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here, Loverboy? Never thought I’d see the day that my baby cousin fell in love.”

“Slow your roll. I’ve known the girl for approximately three days.”

“Three days? Time to get married then, you’ve had long enough.”

“You’re an actual psycho. Who knows they want to get married after three days of knowing someone?”

She shrugs. “Not me, that’s for sure. Love is not for me. You? You’re someone who would thrive in a relationship.”

“Are you saying I’m co-dependent?”

“Co-dependent, no. Obsessive, yes.”

“I am not obsessive!”

“Thou doth protest too much, little cousin.”

“Oh fuck off.” I can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness that comes out of her mouth. She is a ball of sarcastic sass with an answer for everything, but I couldn’t imagine not having her in my life. She’s more like a sister than a cousin, and I’d go to the ends of the earth for her. Well, I would if it had an edge, but considering it’s round and 3D, that’s not likely, is it?

She walks to the door and flips the sign to closed before motioning for me to take a seat in the two chairs that she has as a seating area for customers. The entire shop is black, with little accents of gold and pink to match her physical aesthetic. I don't know where she got the idea for a taxidermy shop-come-bookstore, but it's genius. People come from all over to buy things from her. I’m surprised she even has time for her hunting hobbies anymore.

“So, tell me everything. What’s happening?”

“I met a girl called Quinn a few nights ago. She was on a bridge behind the cemetery and very much on the brink of killing herself. I managed to talk her off the edge, and we went for a drink so she could talk. From what I observed and the little she told me, she’s very clearly been abused. She mentioned lost memories she wanted to recover, and her demeanour was just broken.”

“Who’s the fucking asshole?”

“See, that’s the thing. It’s not domestic violence in the typical sense. She isn’t in a relationship. It seems like it’s her parents and her brother that have caused the damage.”

“Her family did this to her?”

“That’s what it looks like. When I took her home that night, I asked her to pick a safe word, and she did. We were meant to meet up the next night, but instead I got a text with the safe word, telling me her parents had dropped her off at this private mental facility for ECT therapy.”

“ECT? Where they electrocute your brain?”

“Yeah, basically. She said she found out they somehow had manipulated a past experience into them being given power of attorney and that they’d abandoned her there. They aren’t allowed electronics, so I’ve been unable to talk to her to find out any more information, but…”

“But, what?”

“Remember my old mentor, Stephanie?”

“I’ll never forget that little cunt. I still want her head on a platter for what she did to you. What about her?”

“She runs the hospital.”

“Oh. Fuck.”

“Yep. That night I made up a folder of notes as we’ve done before. I was going to challenge the power of attorney ruling, but I decided to go by her house and talk to her family first and get a feel of things.”

“And how did that go?”

“It ended with me threatening her brother and telling her mother about herself.”

“So, really well, then.” She laughs.

“There was a part of me that I suppose hoped that she was exaggerating, but her brother quite literally said she needed to be put down like a dog. And the relationship between him and his mother is, quite honestly, creepy as fuck.”