Chapter 20
“And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.”
—2 CORINTHIANS 11:14, ESV
R eaver didn’t stick around after he dropped me off, but he gave me very strict orders that I was not to leave my apartment unless it was to go to work. As much as this was typical behavior at this point, it still made me grind my teeth together. His bartending exams couldn’t come soon enough.
I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning my apartment and doing my best to ignore the aching burn between my legs. Figuring I needed a distraction, I decided I would make myself pumpkin gnocchi from scratch.
The issue with this was that I would need to leave my apartment to get ingredients, which was against Reaver’s rules. A very strong part of me wanted to just say fuck him and do it anyway because, let’s be serious, how was he going to know?
I bit my lip and paced in my living room. This was stupid. I should just go. I shouldn’t let some asshole dictate whether or not I could go get groceries… should I?
What if I went and he found out, and then he followed through on his threat? I looked over at Chaos, who was snoozing in full loaf formation on the couch, and sighed. I couldn’t risk losing my job and my apartment, no matter how much it killed the feminist in me to obey the commands of some arrogant tattooed asshole.
I decided that instead of just going and hoping for the best, I would text him.
Lilith:
I need to go to the store.
I flopped down on the couch and stared at our conversation, waiting for the three dots to appear. When they did, my heart skipped a beat in my chest.
Reaver:
You’re telling me this… because?
Lilith:
You told me not to leave the apartment, but I need to go to the store.
There was a pause, and I could almost feel his sinister smile from a mile away.
Reaver:
Are you telling me that you need to go to the store, or are you asking me for permission to go to the store?
I let out a frustrated scream and kicked my feet, startling Chaos from his nap. He puffed up his fur and hopped down from the couch, relocating to the top of the kitchen table. The furball eyed me warily and licked a paw, rubbing it over his little cat face to clean it.
I could do this for Chaos. I could swallow my pride and ask for permission to leave my own fucking home.
Lilith:
I’m asking.
Reaver:
So ask then.
Rage flared inside me. Of course he was going to make this as painful as fucking possible. Absolutely fuming, I forced myself to type out what I knew he wanted me to say.
Lilith:
Reaver, may I please go to the store to get groceries?
Reaver:
No.
I screeched and nearly threw my phone across the fucking room when it vibrated, indicating that he had sent a second message.
Reaver:
Send me a list of what you need. I’ll go for you.
I frowned. This was… not what I had expected. He wanted to get my groceries for me? Fucking weirdo. I bit my lip but started typing. If he wanted to run my errands, that was fine with me. I sent him a list of all the things I needed, and he ‘liked’ my message.
Reaver:
Be there in twenty.
“This guy is deranged,” I muttered out loud to Chaos, who chirped at me in agreement. Shaking my head, I flipped on the TV and put on Gravestone Twenty-Four to listen to the news highlights. I dug through the cupboards to pull out the ingredients I did have to make the gnocchi. I was pretty much just missing the pumpkin puree and fresh sage for the sauce, but I had the sweet potatoes and the flour. So, I went to work making the dough for the little pillows while I waited for Reaver to show up with the rest of my ingredients.
I was just rolling the little gnocchi with a fork when my ears pricked at one of the highlights mentioned on TV.
In a chilling incident, thirty-two-year-old John Knox met a gruesome fate last night in an alley off Crypton Ave. Authorities responded to a midnight distress call and found Knox brutally dismembered, sending shockwaves through the community. A seemingly random and savage attack, the motive remains elusive. Knox was last seen leaving Voodoo on 5th after a night out. This is the second murder that has been attached to the notorious steakhouse; however, authorities have yet to comment on whether these two deaths are connected. As the investigation unfolds, fear grips the city, and residents demand answers about the safety of their streets.
I stopped what I was doing and rushed to the TV.
No. Fucking. WAY!
Yep, sure enough, there he was. Sara’s ex was staring back at me from a picture I’m sure his family had provided right there on the screen. In the picture, he was smiling and looked like a nice, average guy. Nothing in that smile betrayed him for the violence I knew he was capable of.
I felt a swell of happiness for a moment, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hurt Sara again, followed immediately by an aching sense of dread.
Fuck.
I had done that. I felt the blood drain from my face. This wasn’t like all the other times when I could blame it on my demon. I had intentionally set this man up to die. At the time, it had felt justified, but now …
I felt myself begin to shake. Now, I just felt guilty. Who was I to play God like that? Who was I to decide who lived or died? I had made a horrible mistake, and now John was dead. He would never have the opportunity to learn or grow or try to be a better person. I had taken all those chances away from him, and I hadn’t even thought twice about it.
Chaos meowed and rubbed against my legs as I stood frozen, staring at the TV. It was almost as if he could sense that I was about to pass out. I had seen somewhere that animals were sensitive to shit like that… maybe I should sit down.
Knock, knock, knock!
I nearly jumped out of my skin. My heart was pounding, and I whipped to face the door. I remembered suddenly that Reaver was on his way with my groceries.
I rushed to the door to let him in and found him leaning against the frame with a plastic bag and a smirk on his face. He took one look at me, and the smile dropped from his lips.
“What’s wrong?” he asked abruptly, straightening. He glanced over my shoulder and pushed past me as if he was going to find an intruder in the apartment. Almost immediately, he noticed John’s picture still on the TV and relaxed.
“Oh, it’s just that asshole. Yeah, I heard about this on the way over here. It’s all over the news.” He strolled into the kitchen like he owned the place, and I watched him take in my little gnocchi-making station. His lip twitched.
Chaos trotted over to him and rubbed against his legs affectionately. I wasn’t sure for a moment how he would react. I assumed someone as dickish as him probably hated cats, but to my surprise, he smirked at Chaos and scooped him up, cradling him against his chest and scritching him between the ears. Chaos closed his eyes and immediately started purring.
I was still too rattled by the fact that I had intentionally killed someone to even comment on the fact that I hadn’t expected Reaver to be a cat guy. He glanced up from Chaos and frowned at me after a few beats of silence.
“Why are you so shaken up by this? Isn’t this kind of your thing? You touch people, and they die, right? You should be used to it by now.” He smirked at me, and I felt my eyes well up with tears. I tried to bite them back, knowing he wouldn’t have any sympathy for me. He loved it when I cried.
“You wouldn’t understand,” I muttered. I dropped my gaze so he wouldn’t see the tears and made my way into the kitchen to take the groceries from him. He dropped Chaos and followed me as I put the pumpkin puree on the counter. Then, he started rummaging through the drawers for a can opener.
My fingers paused over a paring knife, and I held my breath. The sudden urge to carve a mark into myself as punishment for what I had done to John overtook me. I froze, my fingers twitching inches from the handle of the knife .
“Deathtrap,” Reaver said, but I couldn’t move or respond. There was a roaring in my ears, and it felt like my focus was zoning in on the knife, and everything else was falling away.
I was a murderer.
“Deathtrap…” Reaver’s tattooed hand suddenly wrapped around mine, and he pulled me away from the open drawer, spinning me to face him. He curled a finger under my chin and tilted my head up to look at him, his hazel eyes swimming with something that I might have confused with concern if I hadn’t known any better.
“Talk to me. What’s wrong? You can’t possibly be upset that the asshole is dead. He hit you.” He rubbed his thumb gently over the bruise on my cheek, frowning.
“I… I’m upset because I killed him,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the ringing in my ears.
Reaver let out a frustrated sigh. “You didn’t kill him, Lilith.”
“I did, I kissed him. I knew it would kill him if I did it. It was why I did it,” I admitted, meeting his gaze. It was the first time I had ever made an admission like that out loud. Would Reaver report me? If he was going to turn me in to the cops, I didn’t even think I cared. I deserved it.
Instead of doing what I expected him to do and calling 9-1-1 to report a fucking murder, he scooped me up as easily as he had scooped up Chaos and stalked over to the couch. I squeaked in surprise as he flopped down and positioned me so I was straddling his lap, facing him. My hands flew of their own accord to his shoulders, and I tried to push away, but he held me firm on his lap. With one hand on my hip and the other suddenly in my hair, he forced me to look at him.
He was laughing.
“You didn’t kill him, deathtrap... I did.”