Chapter Eighteen
It takes everything in me not to kick Marvin straight in the face.
To split his lip to a bloody pulp and break his lower jaw into fractured, tiny pieces.
Jasper feels my body tense as I strain in his embrace.
I know Marvin is doing this on purpose, the slow pacing.
Jasper had already kicked him once in the ribs, which only slowed him down even more.
Marvin wants her to die, and if she does, it’s because of my stupidity.
After what feels like forever, her dirt-covered face comes into view, white as a sheet, and I hold my breath as I study her for any signs she might still be alive.
My eyes linger on her. Oddly enough, she reminds me of a Victorian child asleep for eternity, her features so peaceful.
Disappointment at her death hums in my veins when her eyes fly open, and the serenity that had been on her face mere seconds ago shatters.
She glances frantically around, her eyelashes fluttering.
She coughs up dirt, and her eyes land on me the moment she sees me.
I want to sob with happiness. The bitch is still alive. Marvin stills.
“I’m so happy you’re still with us,” I say gently to the woman.
Her eyes dart from me to Marvin, but her bloodshot eyes widen in shock when she sees Jasper.
She immediately backs away from him, kicking her feet to free herself from the makeshift grave.
She lets out strange groans, and when she opens her mouth for another frightened moan, I notice her tongue is missing.
The woman gets to her feet and stumbles backward over the soft ground, a muffled grunt following.
I arch an eyebrow at her, then glance at the ground she’s standing on.
She understands immediately and falls to her knees, her hands driving into the sand.
She keeps stealing glances at Jasper, as if worried he’ll close the distance between them.
Jasper doesn’t pay her any attention; his focus is on Marvin, and the rage he exudes is palpable.
It’s as if the air thickens, right before a heavy rainfall.
“What is the meaning of this?” He snarls.
Marvin stares hard at the ground. His lips don’t move, and no words spill.
Jasper’s upper lip begins to twitch as his face hardens the longer Marvin ignores him. I see a vein in his neck trembling, and he flexes his fists. It’s a rage I haven’t seen in him before, and part of me fears him, the monster he’s about to unleash.
“I saved them.”
The words sound small and helpless, like a child being punished for something they don’t understand.
In a few long strides, Jasper is next to Marvin, and his hand flies to Marvin’s throat. A territory his fingers are now well acquainted with. His eyes bulge from the pressure, and without thinking, I clasp a hand over my mouth.
Jasper’s voice is dangerously low, a calm that makes your heart pound faster, not from excitement but from cold terror.
“Not only did you try to hurt the one person I love, but you also willingly betrayed my trust.”
Wet spots form in the corners of Marvin’s eyes as he tries to inhale a hint of oxygen. His skin discolors from deep red to pale blueish purple. Saliva bubbles as he froths at the mouth.
“You threatened the beacon of my existence and allowed the demons from my nightmares to persist. You returned them to me to scare the person who brings me light.”
Small vessels begin to break in Marvin’s eyes, the blood that springs free beginning to bloom like ink dipped into water.
“Suffocation is too quick a death for someone like you. People like you deserve to suffer.”
With those words, he lets go of Marvin, and as he catches his breath, short and choked, Jasper strikes. With a firm backhand, Marvin’s head spins to the side, and he loses consciousness. A strangled shriek demands his attention, and I turn my head as well.
The blonde woman is holding another woman, both of them disfigured, staring wildly at Jasper. I repeat Marvin’s words in my head. I saved them.
“These are some of the women Marvin brought to you…” I say, more a statement than a question.
A silent observation.
“They are,” Jasper says, not a hint of guilt in his voice, nor an attempt to hide who he is at his core.
And part of me understands. He never asked for these women; all they did was bring him unhappiness. It was Marvin who kept pushing them onto him, feeding the beast inside.
“Let's go,” I say softly.
I can tell he’s drawn to them, the itch he feels to finish the job, but given their appearance, they’ve suffered enough. Both of them were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He breaks eye contact, a wince on his face, as if it hurts to do so, reigning back the monster that has crawled out.
“Let’s go,” he repeats.
He picks up Marvin and throws the asleep man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and laces his fingers through mine.
He gives my knuckles a soft kiss, and we leave the two terrified women behind.
Neither of them speaks or makes a sound, and I have this gut feeling they are both too afraid to even consider, turning law enforcement in Jasper’s direction.
The cabin dissolves into the trees as we press deeper into the woods, and still I look back.
Both women stand there, watching us. A cold depth to their gaze.
Unease seeps beneath my skin, a thousand small legs skittering through my veins.
My thoughts drift to moments ago, when Jasper stood ready to end their suffering, and how easily he had been prepared to end it.
Perhaps he was right, understood something I did not.
I glance back once more. The clearing is empty.
I take a deep breath and focus on the path ahead. Our way home.
When the house emerges on the horizon, relief floods me, heavy and undeniable.
The brick structure, smothered in wisteria and roses, wears the shape of safety.
My heart yearns for it all the same, to be within those walls, a sanctuary in its own.
All I want is to stay in those confines, in the arms of the man I have chosen to love.
I unlock the front door, and at the sound of the metal clicking into place, Marvin stirs slightly. Jasper doesn’t flinch at the movement and carries the man, once a friend, inside, straight into the place where we performed our first kill together.
Marvin’s body flies through the air and slams heavily onto the metal mortuary table.
He grunts as his spine hits the unforgiving surface.
Jasper doesn’t waste any time. Leather restraints find their way around Marvin’s ankles and wrists.
I help my love, and pull them taut, securing the straps as tightly as possible.
A soft yelp escapes Marvin’s lips as part of his skin gets stuck between the straps.
I don’t bother to relieve him and let the piece of skin sit. I’m sure it stings. I hope it hurts.
Jasper grabs a bottle of bleach and pours it over Marvin’s face, awakening him fully. It’s more effective than water. With each blink, his eyelids tremble, as bleach clings to the small hairs that surround his eyes.
“Ahhh, it burns, what the fuck, Jasper!” Marvin cries out, closing his eyes. A weak attempt to soothe the burning pain.
“It’s still sir to you,” Jasper responds dryly.
He puts the remains of the chemical down and circles the man who’s stripped of his anatomy like a hungry wolf. He’s now fully at our mercy.
Jasper hands me a black face mask to block the stench of bleach and keep the fumes from irritating our throats.
I loop the strings behind my ears and cover my face.
The chemical slowly begins stripping the skin of oils and proteins, leaving white patches in its wake.
Marvin roars in pain as the liquid settles deeper in his pores.
The thin skin of his eyelids begins to swell, as if stung by a bee, and an allergic reaction spreads.
Blisters filled with clear fluid formed on his flesh, like small geysers, ready to erupt.
It’s a sight to behold: the strain of the skin, a protective capsule.
Who would have known bleach could be this effective?
As the effects deepen, his skin turns raw and an angry red, cracking and peeling. It reminds me of a creepy, antique porcelain doll, with fractures. My mouth frowns upside down in disgust.
“Your torture will be slow and steady,” Jasper says. “I’ll make you suffer for even daring to lay one of your filthy hands on what’s mine.”
He doesn’t yell at the trashing man; it’s the ice in his voice that gives me chills, the protectiveness.
My chest swells with love as his gaze meets mine, and his darkened eyes soften as he sees me.
It’s a weakness that’s only reserved for me.
Jasper sucks in his lower lip, and his eyes travel down my body.
He gives me a smirk, and my cheeks fluster with heat. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“What do you think, Starling… Razorblades sound fine?”
I lick my lips, wetting them in anticipation.
“They are always fun, love.”
He puts on a pair of black sterile gloves, takes a stack of razor blades, and pulls down Marvin’s quivering lip with a pair of pliers.
With precision, he places the first one and slowly pushes the sharp edge through the roof of the mouth.
Marvin writhes in his restraints as blood floods his mouth.
Crimson colored saliva drips from the corners of his mouth.
Jasper is not one bit disturbed as he presses the next one in.
Languidly, he pushes them in, creating a row of razor-sharp teeth behind Marvin’s actual teeth, like a shark’s mouth.
Marvin weeps, the tears stinging as they wash over his ruined flesh.
I watch it all wrapped in peculiar comfort, the only sounds Jasper’s steady, rhythmic breathing and Marvin’s whimpers of agony.
The moment Jasper removes the pliers, Marvin instinctively clamps his mouth shut, perforating his tongue. The small blades slice through the spongy muscle with effortless ease. He’s unable to open his eyes, as the thickened lids prevent it.
“Cut the tiny veins in his eyelids,” I say, mesmerized by the blue branches that are visible and appear to pop at any moment.
“I am yours to command, darling.”
My heart flutters at the declaration, knowing that my will is law to him. I give a subtle nod.
With precision, he takes a scalpel in hand, and with the tip, he pierces the swollen skin carefully.
Lines of red appear, like an outward tattoo, crimson ink spilling over the ridges.
Marvin cries out as the blade is used to carve out the map that’s portrayed on his eyelids.
Thick blood and clear fluid well at each opening.
“I love seeing him suffer,” I whisper, the admission a secret only for Jasper’s ears.
“I know you do, Starling.”
Jasper turns to me, scalpel still in hand, blood dripping onto the gloves. “There’s no shame in admitting something so primal, Darling.”
He beckons me, and I step into his space.
He cups my face, smearing the fresh blood on my chin and cheeks, and kisses me deeply.
I open my lips to let his tongue in, my need for him a desperate one.
I press my body against his, and one hand travels to my neck, holding me in place.
His favorite thing to do. The other tangles in my long hair.
He bruises my lips as he explores my mouth.
His fingers clasp my hair, fisting it. Neither of us pays attention to the moaning man next to us, enraptured with each other.
“Seeing you painted in another man’s blood, caused by my hands, is a different kind of sexy,” he breathes, and I giggle. “Yet, he doesn’t deserve to be this close to you.”
He hoists me up and carries me out of the room.