Chapter 37 #2
“That’ll make it hard for him to swallow.” I manage a wan smile and kneel in front of Bryan, nose wrinkling at the sharp odour of urine. “You can swallow these willingly”—I rattle the bottle—“or I’ll leave and let Damien continue with the car battery.”
Tear patter onto my arm as Bryan shakes his head. “No.”
“If you won’t choose, I will.” My voice drops half an octave, softens. “A choice is more than you gave me.”
Damien sets a water glass on the floor, guiding my hand so I know where it is. I shake out the first pills and feed them into Bryan’s mouth, grimacing at his wet lips, the blubbering snot from his nose.
He immediately spits them out and the crackle of the jumper cables comes again as I push them back into his mouth. “Swallow or this will become a lot more painful.”
My legs grow sore from crouching, then from kneeling, fingers wet with his slobber as I continue feeding him the pills in twos and threes, pausing in between, anticipating the tricks he uses to hide them because I’ve used them all.
Soon it’s not Bryan’s rebellion I’m fighting, but the challenges from his body as the pills take effect. Eyelids fluttering, his head becoming heavier, body slumping against the bindings. Weakening swallows.
I shake him awake between doses, Damien helping pour water into his mouth, forcing his unconscious body to swallow.
And finally, the last few sit in his mouth, slowly dissolving. His gag and swallowing reflexes gone.
I don’t feel horror. I don’t feel satisfaction. It’s just a task that needed to be done.
“Help me untie him.”
We work efficiently. I free him from the chair and Damien takes his weight, holding him poised above the floor, then dropping him. A crunch of cartilage to explain his already broken nose.
Damien wipes down the car battery and leads, returning them to his boot, and I wipe the empty pill containers and water glass, donning kitchen gloves before I press them into Bryan’s limp hands, leaving only his prints on their surface.
I rely on Damien as we wordlessly stage the scene, his eyes picking out all the details I’d otherwise miss. Prompting me.
When everything tells the story we want, Damien holds me on his lap, my head resting against his chest while we wait.
“I was thinking.” My voice is croaky, loud after the silence. “I might need a good shrink after this.”
Damien laughs. “Probably. Though finding one you can talk to freely will be challenging.”
“Patient confidentiality has limits?”
“Severe limits.” His fingers lace through mine. “But we’ll find someone trustworthy.”
Bryan’s breathing deepens, occasionally broken with strangled snorts. I’m impatient, wanting it done, wanting it over with, and sit on his chest, gently rising and falling along with his ribcage.
Damien clears his throat. “You skipped out on my declaration last night.” There’s vulnerable undertone in his voice.
“Was that only last night? It feels like weeks ago.”
He crouches before me, hands covering mine. “Will you stay with me? Will you let me provide everything you need and let me find ways to turn your dreams into reality?”
“And what if we both end up in prison?”
“Then we’ll get matching tattoos.” He nuzzles closer. “Like bars and concrete could ever keep me away from you.”
The last of my hesitancy dissolves as I realise Bryan’s chest has stopped moving. “Can you check his pulse?”
He presses two fingers against Bryan’s neck. Counts down a minute. “Nothing.”
I climb off the body, my legs shaking, and Damien leads me into the hallway, closing the door on the scene.
A month ago, I was planning my suicide. Collecting pills, biding my time. Now I’m a murderer.
There are so many things I should feel. Horror. Guilt. Regret.
All I feel is alive.
“This is probably the wrong time…” Damien donned his jacket again during the cleanup, and his fingers dip into the inside pocket. He withdraws a corsage box; the pale blue ribbon crushed against the white cardboard. “It’s a gift, but you mightn’t want it.”
I take it from his hands. It’s light. Innocuous. My fingers hesitate at the lid, heartbeat quickening with wariness and intrigue. I lift it slowly.
Nestled in black velvet lies a small piece of flesh, greyish-pink and withered. It takes a few seconds of head tilting scrutiny before I work out what it is.
“You bought me a severed penis?” A bubble of hysteria rises in my throat, releasing in a burst of giggles. This day is fucking mental. “What a thoughtful gift.”
“I told you Craig would never assault another girl at a party.”
The organ is small, wrinkled. Pathetic. “Is he…?”
“Alive? Yes, just minus one unimportant piece.” Damien leans closer, voice dropping low. “Unless you tell me different, which can also be arranged.”
The hairs on my arms stand on end. “Won’t you get in trouble?”
“I can be careful when I want to be.” His fingertip traces an invisible circle on my inner wrist. “And I’d never risk anything leading back to you.”
I laugh and then can’t stop. A sharp, broken sound that builds until tears stream down my face. Until my ribs ache. “You’re insane,” I gasp between fits. “Completely insane.”
“Yeah.” He takes the box from my hands before I drop it. “But you love me, anyway.”
The words are teasing, but I take them with the seriousness they deserve. “I don’t know what love is. My mother didn’t love me and Bryan sure didn’t. Everything I learned about relationships from movies or books is a lie.”
“Then let’s start with what feels good. Because being with you is better than being with anyone else in the world.”
“Okay.” He’s right. “I can start there.”
Damien leads me out to his car, performing one final sweep of the house before he joins me, checking my seatbelt is done up tight.
“If you don’t mind a dead body in the basement, we can stay at my place for now.” His casual voice makes the macabre suggestion sound palatable.
“Won’t it look suspicious? Both of our parents… you know.”
“Bryan isn’t your parent, and you told me his guardianship was unofficial. Nobody will connect the dots, and even if they do trace him back to our relationship, my dad’s death will fall under misadventure, not overdose.”
“And what if you’re wrong?”
His smile gleams. “Then I have a very good team of lawyers. Don’t waste your time worrying about something that might never happen. Enjoy what’s in front of you instead.”
The engine purrs into life, and Damien passes the corsage box back to me, the gift hidden under the closed lid.
“Thank you,” I say.
And I mean it.