AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Unable to stop my fears, I sob uncontrollably into his neck, refusing to ever let go. “You’ll never be his. Never.” I weep, a darkness overshadowing me. “You’re mine.”
Saint wraps his arm around me, pulling me close as he hugs me with every last ounce of strength he has left. “Always, ?????.”
But that doesn’t make a difference. Our destinies were fated from the first moment we met. A happily ever after was never in our future as all we have now are memories.
“Please, I-I ca-can’t.” I’m breaking. Is this what losing a piece of your heart feels like? Because right now, I am incomplete, and I never will be whole ever again.
“You have to be strong. For me. Go now. Go have your butter pecan ice cream.”
A raucous sob spills from me because he remembered what I said to him when we were on the island. It seems trivial, but it means so much because he wants me to live. He wants me to be normal and forget he ever existed. “Not w-without you.”
“Now isn’t our time. But one day, it will be.” He kisses over the wound on my temple, but how I wish he could kiss it and make everything better.
“Saint, no.” I hold on tight, but he gently coaxes me away. Even with one arm injured, he is still stronger than me.
We lock eyes—a blue pool of abyss and a splash of warm chartreuse. “I will never stop fighting for you,” I promise, reaching around my neck and unclasping my chain. He watches with sadness as I place my necklace around his neck. “I love you.”
With a hollow sigh, he caresses the crucifix just as I used to. “I…love you too.” His words are filled with nothing but sadness.
But fuck…this. This is not the end.
“Let me help you. Alek is—” I am about to confess it all, but suddenly, my legs grow heavy, and I sway, gripping Saint. I don’t know what’s happening. I try to fight, but the world tilts, and I tumble to the floor, paralysis taking over.
My eyelids weigh a million pounds, but I force them open and see Oscar standing over me with the empty syringe in hand. “Noooo,” I slur, my tongue swollen.
Saint distracted me, knowing I would fight until the bitter end. “I’m sorry.” I barely can make out his words, but his expression says it all.
Oscar steps over me, producing a key. I sluggishly watch as Oscar bends down to unlock Saint’s ankles. I’m hoping he kills this asshole, giving him everything he deserves, but he doesn’t. And that’s thanks to me. My freedom is the only thing that matters to him.
Oscar produces a small bottle of liquid, which he squirts onto Saint’s chest. Saint stands unmoving. “Coconut is my favorite scent,” he says, rubbing the oil into Saint’s skin. I didn’t understand why he “prepared” him in such a way, but I soon do. “You’re going to need a little…lubrication.”
“No,” I moan. Gathering everything that I have, I try to drag myself toward them, but I don’t even move an inch.
Saint never takes his eyes off me. He could fight Oscar because he is stronger and faster, but he knows we wouldn’t make it out of this house alive. He is doing this to protect me, and all I can do is lie here, helpless, unable to protect him.
Once Oscar is satisfied with Saint’s oiled skin, he threads his hand through his long hair and yanks his head backward. A pained grunt leaves me. That soon turns to an afflicted cry when Oscar plants his lips on Saint’s and kisses him.
A single tear slips down my cheek as my entire body is numb. The drugs have won, but more importantly, Oscar has triumphed. He got what he always wanted.
By coming here, I tried to make things better, but I’ve just made them so much worse. The last thing I see are the dead eyes of the man I killed in front of me. As I embrace the darkness, I realize…I’ve become the monster I never wanted to be.
Day 20987983038
I’M ON FIRE. I’m sure of it.
Shooting upright, I try to gauge where I am because I’m convinced I swam in a vat of absinthe. My brain isn’t just fuzzy, it’s filled with cotton, and I can’t remember anything. I don’t even know how many days have passed because I feel a billion years old.
How did I get here?
Rubbing my aching temple, I blink sluggishly, hoping some memory will resurface soon. However, when my fingers brush over a dry, flaky substance, I wonder if maybe the memories are hidden for a reason.
Although every inch of me demands I crawl back under the covers, I move my weary body and come to a slow, wobbly stand. The room spins in a kaleidoscope of noise, but when that noise transforms into a gargle and then a death rattle, bile rises in my throat, and I’m going to be sick.
With hand over mouth, I ignore the cramping in my muscles as I run into the bathroom and throw up in the sink. I won’t make it to the toilet. Though my empty stomach is skinned raw, I clench the porcelain, heaving whatever I have left, but the purge doesn’t make me feel any better. This bitterness is ingrained onto my soul, and no matter how hard I try to rid it from my body, nothing will ever eradicate the feeling I have inside me because I…killed a man.
Oh, god. I’m a murderer.
Images, sounds, it all hits me at once, and a violent tremble wracks through me, almost splitting me into two. “No,” I whimper, slamming my fist against the porcelain, my head buried in the sink.
