Chapter Fourteen Him
Chapter Fourteen
Him
The room’s dark, but that suits me fine as I listen to their soft, steady breaths.
I’ve been sitting in this room for some time. Watching them. Admiring my work.
Maybe tempting fate.
It feels risky, but it isn’t. Not when you know everything there is to know about a person.
Worst case, they wake up, and I gut them.
It’s not the plan, but I’ve always found comfort in alternative outcomes. The blade in my hand dangles over the arm of the chair as I keep my breath matched to theirs, inhaling and exhaling at the same time.
The cat purrs, weaving between my legs, before I lean down and pick her up. She was such a good girl today, eating the present I left behind.
I tilt my head, staring down at her.
“We’re alike,” I whisper quietly. “I like to play with what I kill too.”
I close my eyes, hearing the memory of her screams like a fear symphony. My fingertips slowly drag down over the cat as I savor it.
My body shudders because I can feel her fear so viscerally inside my body. The way she’ll scream when I take away everything she loves.
Piece by piece. In front of her.
My eyes land on Chase—the protector. The pawn.
As if on cue, he pulls Evie closer to him, wrapping his arms around her as they sleep.
I wonder if he would be embarrassed if he knew how easy it was to get them here, since he’s been trying to convince her for so long. All it took was a busted pipe here and a dead rat there.
The scare on location was serendipitous, though.
Frankly, what I had planned was much worse.
The cat lets out a quiet meow, grabbing my attention, so I look down, and realize I’ve stopped petting her.
I resume, still watching them.
Evie snuggles closer to Chase, draping her leg over his hip. There’s not a spot on them that isn’t touching.
It’s perfect. Everything begins and ends with them.
The stage can only be set for grief once they’re in place. Hate required it. Revenge deserved it. True fear sanctified it.
Without a second thought, I place the cat down on the floor gently and stand, slowly walking toward the end of the bed.
I could take the knife in my hand and stick it in her neck, so quickly she’d never make a sound. But her eyes would open as she slowly bled out next to him and I watched.
My eyes lower as I keep my breath quiet. I have an erection.
The knife twists in my hand over and over, feeling heavy, although it’s not. It’s the burden I carry to hold to the plan. To keep them alive until it’s time.
There’s no point in killing either of them until the band’s back together.
I walk around the bed, my footsteps never making a sound, to where Evie’s facing before squatting down.
She lets out another sigh as I bring our faces so close I could almost . . . I breathe her in, every inhale coming into my body, and with every exhale, I enter hers. Because I want to live inside her. Be the flesh she eats, the blood she drinks, so I can rot her from the inside until she dies.
Her breath smells like cinnamon and tickles my lips as I close my mouth, leaning in closer to let them brush hers.
“It’s time to begin our game,” I whisper so quietly she never stirs. “First one to the end of twelve days dies. Can’t wait for the opening.”