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“How fucking touching.” Eddie's voice cuts at my ears like a sharp blade. “Almost as touching as the moment your father killed your husband and you cried over his dead body. When I told your old man to send me a photo as proof, I didn't expect the demented son of a bitch to invite me to watch it live via webcam. It was definitely a nice little surprise.”
“You son of a bitch.” I rush toward him, wrapping my fingers around his neck, choking out whimpers from his throat. He coughs, his eyes watering and hands slamming against me. The hits are too weak to do anything, and when I lift him off the ground his whole body shakes, his face turning two shades of purple.
“I was going to put a bullet in your head and call it a day but I don't think that's enough. You killed my husband. Maybe not with your own hands, but you constructed the whole thing. Since you took the coward's way out, you will die like one too. With no fucking guts.” I lower him to the ground and he falls to his knees, gasping for air.
“The issue with monsters like you is that you make the mistake of creating new monsters who have more to lose than you do, and that's the kind of people who always come out on top.”
Smiling, I look up at the moonlight and then back at the weak, shaking man kneeling in front of me. I take out one of my knives, the sharpest, largest one I have, and plunge it through his stomach. His eyes widen and I shove the knife deeper, blood pouring between us.
Torturous sounds leave his throat and he shakes his head. “I'm sorry. For everything. We can make a deal. You and me.”
I scoff. “How are you not dead yet? You really are a stubborn asshole. Good thing I don't give up so easily either.” He gasps when I yank out the knife, staring down at his bloodstained clothes. I stab him lower, slashing him until his stomach gapes open. He's slumping over at this point, his eyes no longer blinking. Him being dead isn't good enough. I made him a promise. Shoving my fingers inside him, I yank out his intestines and keep going until most of him is spilling out on the ground. As soon as I stand up with my knife in my hand, wrapped in the strong metallic scent of blood, Eddie's lifeless body falls forward, his face crashing into the concrete.
A loud gasp comes from behind me and when I turn around, Phillip is stepping away. Phillip or Garrett. Do I even truly know who he is? Does he know who I am? I'm sure we have a lot to learn about each other. One thing is for certain, we are both under each other's spell, being controlled by a strong force of gravity always pushing us in a direction only leading to each other.
“Did you really kill my brother?”
Wiping the blood from my cheek, I shake my head, walking closer to him. “He's very much alive and probably driving Tyson to drink at this very moment.” I shake one of my bloody handsin a small birdbath nearby and then dunk it in the water until it's mostly clean.
His lips twitch and he moves backwards again, his foot slowly sliding behind the other, and I dry my hand on my jacket.
“Am I the one you're scared of now?”
His head slowly moves from side to side and I take three steps toward him. “Then why are you walking away?”
“I wanted to see how many times you'd keep coming for me.”
“As many times as it takes to reach you.” Closing the gap between us, I swipe a bloody thumb over his cheek.
“Don't you hate me?”
“I tried. Believe me, I did. But feeling that way about you is impossible. Anything bad is. After everything, I still only see one thing when I look at you.”
“What's that?” He rubs his cheek against my palm.
“The good.”
He makes a high-pitched sound with his throat, standing on his tiptoes. “Really?”
“Si. But from now on you aren't allowed to lie anymore. Only the truth from here on out, understand?” I rub our noses together.
“I promise, Daddy. But you can't lie either.”
My brows raise close to my hairline. “What did I lie about?”
“You said you wouldn't take me back there and did anyway,” he says, reminding me.
“You're right, I did. I won't lie anymore either. I promise. It'll take me a while to promise you the world but I'm sure we'll get there in time.”
Practically melting against him, I kiss his lips and forehead. “I don't know what to call you.”
“Call me yours.”
Grabbing his hips, I press our lips together, plunging my tongue into his addicting mouth. I carry him to the backpatio steps and we tear at each other's clothes, hunger burning between us. I don't care who sees us or who's around. I need him. All of him. Right here and now. My body’s unable to settle until I do.
Blood covers my skin, trailing down my face and chest. That doesn't stop him from looking at me with stars in his eyes. Neither of us are perfect. We both have our faults. I'm stubborn and he forces me to see what I'm missing. I'm a killer and he sees me as a hero. I ignore my own problems and he runs toward them. He manipulated me into thinking he was someone else and I made him believe I was the good guy.
Sliding the knife under his waistband, I cut his underwear from his body and the tattered pieces fall around him. He lifts himself up the steps and I hold him in place, pressing a clean finger into him. He's wet. Fucking soaking and stretched wide.
