Chapter 11 #2
And his arms? They tentatively drape around me too, just a little, just enough to make me feel it—the fact that behind that mask, there’s a man who cares.
I cry into his chest while his strong arms hold me like he doesn’t know how to do this, but wants to anyway.
I grab a fistful of his hoodie, and I let it all out, a cleansing of my deepest pain, the kind of release that you know will make you feel better when you’ve reached the precipice.
But I’m not there yet. There’s so much to let go of.
The ruins so ingrained in my scars that I don’t know if I can ever get rid of them.
But I try anyway, knowing that they will never have me again.
I don’t care who is out there, trying to take women in the name of the Bianchis, but it won’t be me.
And if I can help it, it won’t be anyone ever again.
But I don’t know who these people are and how to help the women they’ve taken so far.
Too much evil runs these streets, and I’m not enough to save them. But maybe he is. Maybe we can do this together.
“Do you know who the killer is?” I perch back and stare at an invisible man.
“Why? Do you think us murderers have each other on speed dial?”
“Shut up.” I swipe under my eye and find dark liquid on the finger of my glove. Blood clearly.
Fabulous.
“Let me clean you up.” Without waiting for a reply, he reaches into his pocket and removes a small packet of wet wipes.
With one, he gently rubs away the evidence of my treachery, and the heat skating down the length of me warms me to my deepest core.
“You shouldn’t have,” I tease, trying to ease the heaviness.
“You’re right, but with you, I can’t seem to help myself.”
“Still hard?” My brow rises.
I swear I’ve never ever dreamed of talking like this with a man, not after everything, but somehow with him, I feel safe enough to do it.
“Why? Wanna feel it, baby bird?”
“How many pet names are you gonna give me?” I tip up my chin, staring into the mask I’ve come to hate and like equally.
“As many as I want to.” His fingers reach toward my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I like them. I’ve never had that.” My heart tightens in my raw and aching chest.
“Never had what?” His fist clamps against his side, then opens, like he wants to touch me again, but is fighting it, while the skin across my nape tingles from where his hands have been.
“Never had a man care enough to give me an endearing nickname…” The words cause my own heart to break.
“That’s alright, ’cause I’m here now.” The warm, dark sluice of his voice sends my stomach soaring with butterflies. “You will never need anyone else.”
The air thickens and my pulse scurries out of my throat.
I bet behind that mask, his eyes are dilated, his breaths warmer.
“And why’s that?” I ask, wanting him to say that he wants me.
What would that feel like?
He cups my jaw, his face nearing mine. “Because you’re mine, little wolf. I thought we established that.”
“Yours?” I scoff. “And how will that work exactly? We kill together, you wear your mask, and then what? You won’t take it off.
You won’t let me know you. And I want to know you, whatever your name is.
Because for the first time since I was rescued, I’m able to be myself with someone.
Do you even know what that means to me?”
His breaths grow heavier, and he lays his forehead against mine.
“Yeah,” he husks. “I do. Because for the first time in my life, I’m able to be myself too.”
My heartbeats quicken, and my hand snaps to his mask, wanting to rip it off, wanting to kiss him. My God, the need surges so powerfully, I don’t know how to stop it.
But in a flash, he grunts and clutches my wrist in his beastly grasp. “No.”
One word. One rough word ends it.
Defeated, I lower my arm to my side and huff. “You say I’m yours, but it doesn’t feel that way, now, does it?”
“I—” he attempts, but the ringing of my phone in my duffel stops him.
I let it ring, not caring who it is, wanting to toss it into the nearest toilet just to hear what he was gonna say.
“Gonna get that?” he muses.
“Probably not.”
He removes his rubber gloves and stuffs them into a black garbage bag beside us. Before I realize what’s happening, he’s unzipping my duffel and taking out my phone.
“What are you doing?” My eyes pop and grow even wider when he answers.
“Hi there,” he says like he’s the sweetest man on the planet. “Yes, Kayla is here. She’s just getting something to eat.”
“I’m gonna kill you,” I whisper.
“I’m a friend from school, ma’am.” He pauses again. “Yes, she’s a great friend. Always has my back, and I have hers.” He nods. “I don’t want you to worry, Mrs. Jenkins. She has me now. No one will hurt her. You have my word.” He pauses. “There she is. Let me give her the phone.”
With a heated stare, I glare at him.
He chuckles lowly and places the phone to my ear while his mouth drops to my other. “She sounds nice. Maybe I can meet her soon.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” I breathe.
He chuckles, all low and gravelly, shooting a tingling sensation between my thighs.
“Honey, you there?” my mother’s worried tone comes through. “Who was that man? Is he really a friend? Why haven’t you told me about him?”
I’m visibly annoyed as I whisper, “Thanks for that!”
His shoulders rock.
He finds this funny, huh?
“He’s a friend. Nothing really to tell. We were just studying at the coffee shop. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
She sighs. “I couldn’t sleep. I had a feeling you would be up too.” A few seconds of silence pass. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“Mom, I’m fine. I’m getting by. I’m doing the work. Going to therapy. You know I love you, but you don’t have to ask how I’m doing every time, okay? It’s gonna take me some time, but I will get through it.”
Yet the bloody knife stares at me from the floor, as though daring the truth from my lips.
She sniffles. God, I hate knowing I’m making her cry.
“You wanna come over for dinner tomorrow night?” she asks. “I’ll make whatever you want. Just name it.”
I know what will happen when I go there. My parents will fawn over me, treating me like a little kid who needs extra attention. They mean well, but I hate it. But I also can’t say no.
“Sure, Mom. Maybe some roasted potatoes and pizza burgers. I love those.”
“Of course! Your dad will fire up the grill. You can even bring that nice friend of yours. We would love to meet him.”
I snicker to myself. “He’s got something to do.”
“No, I don’t.”
I swear he’s having fun with this.
“What did he say?” Mom retorts.
“Nothing. He just said he’s very sad to miss it.”
“Aww. Next time, then. How’s six?”
“That works. Well, okay, Mom. I’ve gotta go now. Have to finish studying and get home.”
That’s when I remember Chris.
Shit. What if he is awake now and tracking me here?
My body goes all pins and needles.
“Okay. Good night, honey. Happy I got to hear your voice. I’ll go back to bed now. I love you.” She waits for me to say it back.
“Love you too, Mom. Night.”
He hangs up for me and removes the cell from my ear, stuffing it back into my bag. I turn and snap my glare at him, removing my own gloves. He takes them from me and throws them where he tossed his.
“Are you insane, talking to my mother? What if she tells people and then they ask questions?”
“About someone you go to college with?” A small chuckle rolls out from his lips. “And how will that lead anyone to me? Are you worried for my safety?”
I want to rip off that smile I know he’s wearing under that godawful mask.
My hand instantly snaps to it like before, but he pushes my hand off.
“Don’t you ever touch my mask!” he roars. “I won’t tell you again. Do you understand me?”
For the first time in a long time, I grow fearful of this man. The heavy breaths falling from his lungs, the way he sounded: like he’d tear me to shreds for what I wanted to do.
Would he really hurt me? Would I be his next victim?
“I should go,” I quickly say.
“Like that?” He laughs coldly. “How do you expect to go back home all bloodied up?”
“I—I have a change of clothes…”
That I completely forgot about because you were ready to lose it on me.
“Let me clean you up, then you can get changed. Leave your clothes. I’ll get rid of it all.”
I jerk back. “Why the hell should I trust you? How do I know you won’t use this evidence against me?”
But I know I sound ridiculous. He’s already done this before, and I haven’t been arrested yet.
“Fine.” He pops a shoulder. “Take it with you. Do whatever you want. But don’t come crying to me when you get caught.”
“What do you do with the body? Can you tell me that?”
He steps up until his chest meets mine. A finger hooks under my chin and he lifts it up, staring down at me.
“I send them back to hell, Kayla. Where they belong.”