Chapter Sixteen
“Human - subject to or indicative of the weaknesses, imperfections, and fragility associated with humans: a mistake that shows he's only human; human frailty.”
Frankie
I baked about one hundred cupcakes. My little kitchen had never seen so much icing and batter. When the cupcakes were done, I started on cookies and then moved on to sticky buns with a vanilla glaze.
I called in sick to work. The thought of facing that depressing place was too much to bear. I couldn’t be trapped like that. Not today. Not after.
When the phone rang, I ignored it. When Piper texted, I put my phone on silent. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to think. I had flour in my hair, batter on my apron, and cinnamon under my nails.
But it didn’t matter how filled up my kitchen got with desserts because my mind was still filled up with him.
Damn it.
How dare he kiss me like that? How dare he make me feel something for him other than hatred? His heart might beat like mine. His lungs might fill with air. He might walk and talk like everyone else out on the streets, but he was different. He wasn’t really human.
He was a machine.
A robot.
A killer.
He looked me in the eye and told me it didn’t bother him. He told me that he killed over and over again without regret.
But, really, I guess the problem wasn’t him. The problem was me. Because even knowing all those things, even knowing that he would kill again, I still felt things for him. Things I didn’t want to feel.
Death isn’t a place for a girl like you.
His words haunted me. He was right. And so I was going to stay away from death—from him. I was going to bake until I ran out of flour and move on with my life. I never should have gotten involved with him; it was stupid to think I could stop him, that I could chase him out of town.
No more.
From here on out, Charming could be someone else’s problem.
But what about Rosalyn? a voice inside me whispered. She deserved some kind of warning that Charming wasn’t who she thought. She’d become my friend and I couldn’t just let her walk right into her own death.
I was going to have to talk with her. But after that I couldn’t be friends with her anymore. It was too complicated and it made me feel guilty. Every time I was around her I felt like a liar. I didn’t like feeling that way.
I glanced at my phone, then away again. Not today. I couldn’t deal with this—with her today. Maybe later this week I would feel less shaky and more like myself. Then I would call her.
Then I would somehow tell her the truth about Charming.