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CRUNCH.
“You’re a fucked up bitch, you know that?” Ryan pants from his spot. He’s bloodied and bruised, his arms hanging from the ceiling with a rope. He’s naked save for a dirty pair of boxers hanging low on his hips. Little cuts mark his skin, most already caked with dried blood. Fresh blood trickles down his arms from the wounds around his wrists. I stare at it in fascination as I nibble on my cookie.
My other hand spins around the box cutter I’ve been using to slice open his skin. Each scream gives me a small thrill. Is this what he felt when he lorded his power over me? When he beat and raped me? I admit, it can be quite the high.
I hold out the cookie, my arm stra
ight with one eye closed as I position the cookie over Ryan’s head. “You know, you both are the devil,” I murmur, concentrating on getting the image just right. I smile when I do, so it looks like a man with a cookie for a head. “You. And these cookies.”
“Hey!” he shouts, spittle flying from his lips. “Fucking listen to me!” My arm drops and my eyes travel back to his. They’re wide with adrenaline, potent fear and rage swirling in his ugly blue eyes. If looks could kill…
Crunch.
Fuck. These are addicting.
“Are you going to explain to me why the fuck you’re doing this? Huh? Fucking tell me, River!”
I arch a brow, unimpressed. “Last time I checked, I don’t have to answer a goddamn thing if I don’t want to. And oh, I almost forgot to tell you.” I snap my fingers at him, shooting him the gun signal with a filthy smile. “I fucked your ex-girlfriend.”
His eyes widen briefly before they shrink into slits. “You’re lying.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “She’s got a freckle right here”—I point right above my hip— “and a freckle right here,” I say, pointing to my left inner thigh next, upwards close to my center. His eyes stare holes into my hand, his lip curling in disgust as he seethes. Anyone could’ve seen the freckle on her hip, but the freckle on her thigh? Well, I would’ve had to see her naked for that one.
His whole body begins to shake as his fury begins to overwhelm him.
“She’s awfully good, too,” I chirp. “Came harder than I ever came with you.”
“Shut the fuck up!” he roars, attempting to charge at me. Hard to do when only your toes are touching the plastic-covered floor. Which, by the way, is slick with his blood. He doesn’t find purchase despite his comical attempts. In the end, he ends up flailing like one of those inflatable things outside of car dealerships.
I laugh and he grows angrier.
“Let me go right fucking now, River!” he roars, letting his body sink with defeat, though his attitude certainly hasn’t caught up yet.
“No!” I shout back, dropping the box of cookies and storming towards him. I put my face as close to his as I can that’s within a safe distance. “I’m done listening to you. I don’t have to do a fucking thing for you anymore. You have no power. Not anymore. I have the power and it’s about time you realize that, you son of a bitch,” I spit.
His chest pumps in tandem with mine. Frustrated tears fill his eyes. I cock my head, fascination once more taking over.
“You’re crying,” I observe. Reaching a hand up, I let one of his tears drop onto my fingertip. He whips his head anyway when he realizes what I’m doing. “I’ve never seen something so beautiful in my life,” I murmur with wonder, holding the tear up to the light.
Beautiful. I’m starting to like that word.
He ignores me, and instead tries to manipulate me. “I loved you, River,” he pleads, his voice wobbly and tight. “I took care of you.”
“You did love me,” I concede. “But you don’t know how to separate love from hate. Because you hated me, too, Ryan. You hate all woman. You beat me, stripped me of any self-love and worth, and then spit in my face.” His bottom lip wobbles.
I get as close to his hateful eyes as possible, a burning feeling rising in me. Something like anger, or even sadness. “Do you know what the worst part is?” I ask softly, my eyes stinging with tears.
He clenches his jaw, refusing to answer.
“I defended you. I told them they were wrong for seeing the truth in you when all I tried to do was see the best in you.”
I inch closer, a hot tear trailing down my cheek.
“It was me that was wrong.”
“Fuck you,” he spits.
I cock my head, genuinely curious. “Tell me, Ryan. Why are you the way you are? You have loving parents, a beautiful home, a great job, money, a girlfriend who would’ve done anything for you. Why? Why, why, why, why?”
