Chapter 13 #3
Carmen has always been perceived as cold and aloof.
Always keeping the world at arm’s length.
I’ve tried to keep her safe, but she has found a way to sharpen her teeth to guard me instead.
Whenever anyone said an offhanded comment, she was always there to spray her poison.
“Kind” has never been a word used to describe her.
And she’s distrustful of those who aren’t close to her.
Or aren’t me.
And Danny isn’t me.
I might’ve talked wonders about him in the past, but he hasn’t done anything to earn her trust. Considering there’s a murderer going around, the odds aren’t in his favor.
I don’t know how much attention she pays to my horror movie rants, but I’ve always told her to be wary of any character that seems too perfect.
Especially if it’s the romantic interest.
I glance up to meet Danny’s puppy eyes. Something has changed.
Maybe it’s a twinge of hurt from my statement, or something else I can’t quite decipher.
The caramel in his irises has darkened slightly.
It’s there only a fraction of an instant because, when he blinks, it disappears, allowing the familiar softness in.
“I don’t like this,” he confesses.
“You don’t have to like it,” I acknowledge. “But you should know I’m either going with you or going alone, so which one do you prefer?”
“You know which one,” he mumbles reluctantly. “I don’t mean to hold you back, Mabs. Even though I don’t like it, it doesn’t matter. I understand why it’s important for you, so I’ll do it.”
For me.
Regardless of how he might feel about the idea of us facing this evil together, he’s going along with it for me. It means a lot that he’s respecting my decision. I appreciate him even more.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Danny squeezes my cheek in a loving manner.
It drags a smile out of me.
“Anything for you, Mabs. I would do anything for you. You know that, right?”
Do I?
A part of me still doubts any of this is real. I need to be told this is real in a million ways because good things don’t typically happen to me.
Anything good in my career has happened because I’ve worked hard.
I’ve hustled and busted my ass, doing odd jobs since the moment I could.
I took babysitting jobs around the neighborhood.
I created this persona that would fit into Kappa for my sister, and it stood strong for years.
Everything I’ve gotten has been because I’ve earned it through my labor, sweat and tears.
But personally speaking? Great things? Never.
This is what I’ve yearned for since the moment I met Danny Singh. And, yes, maybe I’m being a little naive to trust him with my fragile heart, yet I don’t see any reason not to. Not even when it seems too good to be true.
I hope it isn’t.
“Thank you,” I repeat, without knowing what else to say.
I need to work on my communication skills. This is something I’ll need to talk about with my future therapist. To give them a little bit of regular therapy experience before I dump this shit show on them about how I’ve seen former acquaintances gutted and stabbed in front of me.
Danny grabs my hand as he glances around the tiny closet.
I take the opportunity to do the same, cursing at myself for not doing it earlier.
Clearly, every time I’ve written a final girl has been worthless.
I’ve been distracted and unfocused when I should have been keeping my senses sharp and using my intellect to come up with solutions to survive. It’s a miracle I’ve made it this far.
There isn’t much to see in the closet. Just a bunch of cleaning products that, upon further inspection, are mostly empty.
Multiple brooms, a mop, some paint. Items to do clean-ups, but nothing with the potential to be turned into a weapon.
I guess we could snap the broom and mop’s handles to create stakes, which would be more useful if we were facing vampires and not a homicidal freak.
“Let’s follow Carmen’s plan,” I suggest again. If we meet them, they might have some weapons already, and if we don’t, at least we’ll find something to defend ourselves with. “Go to the kitchen. Find weapons.”
Danny’s mouth twitches as if he has something he wants to say, but he suppresses it. I can guess what he’s thinking. That I should stay put while he carries out the plan.
A voice in the back of my head begins to question it.
Why the insistence on me staying here? It isn’t much safer.
Cupid already saw me here, and he knows the door doesn’t have a lock.
It’s possible he’s waiting for me to let my guard down so he can slide in later and cut my throat, or something even more nefarious.
“I’m not staying here,” I establish for the last time, grinding the words out.
Danny nods. “I know, I know.”
He turns, grabs the doorknob and leaves his hand lingering on it for a few seconds, only to spin around and hold my face as he pulls me in for a kiss that almost knocks me off my feet.
One of his hands travels to my lower back, stabilizing me as he deepens the kiss.
His teeth dig into my bottom lip, enticing a whine from the back of my throat.
The tip of his tongue swipes across the sting left behind from his bite, easing the soreness away before he breaks apart.
“Sorry,” he whispers against my lips. “I had to do it. Just one last time.”
The message is loud and clear, even though it’s unspoken. In case we don’t get the chance to do it again. I lick my lips, recovering from the kiss. I feel lightheaded from the sudden emotion overwhelming my senses, but I manage to shake it off.
Danny grabs his phone from one of the shelves, and I notice for the first time that the illumination we’ve had this entire time was coming from it. A memory assaults me, claiming my attention.
When he left the living room before Cupid appeared, he volunteered to go find flashlights with Ollie. I’m going to see if I can find some flashlights, Danny’s voice echoes in my skull as I remember what he said.
But he’s been using his phone.
If he went to look for flashlights, why is he using his phone?