Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
ANORA
I had every intention of getting up today and indulging in self-care: a long-overdue hair wash, fresh clothes, maybe a stroll in the park. But as motivation barely sparked, a knock shattered those plans. At the door stood the man who’d consumed my thoughts for the past seventy-two hours—and far longer, if I was being honest.
Rory had been by my side since I came home with tears streaming down my face the morning I left the boutique, unable to put my thoughts into words, and refused to leave me since. I loved her immensely, but I knew I needed to process this by myself.
I told Charlie I had a family emergency for which I needed a couple of days off, and I felt guilty lying to her about it, but after struggling to get through my full shift three days ago, I knew I needed some time away to process everything I was feeling.
I’d begged Rory to go spend some time with Joey because I knew she missed him. She’d spent every waking moment with him the last several months that they’d been together. If I was attached to one of Rory’s hips, he was attached to the other. They were literal soulmates, and so in love with each other, it was disgusting.
But I was happy for her, so if that’s what she wanted, I couldn’t complain. I apparently just liked my men a little darker. A little more twisted.
Where Joey was sunshine for Rory, Quentin was moonlight for me.
Funny that he insisted on calling me his little moon when he was my darkness.
When he was my shadow.
Always making sure I was safe and that no harm would come to me.
I watched from the kitchen counter as Quentin rounded the couch and made himself at home. The man had no fear, no concern for what anyone thought, and certainly no interest in anyone’s judgement but his own.
I wished I had his level of confidence. Maybe I’d be better off.
I had always given too many fucks about what people thought. The fashion industry, dating sites, and social media had bred me into a person who cared way too much about fitting into expectations.
But if there was anything I had learned in the last three days, doing nothing but pondering the darkest thoughts and parts of my mind, it was that I was done giving a fuck about what other people thought when they saw me.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” I finally asked, trying desperately to break the silence that had washed over my apartment. I’d been binge-watching Netflix for the last several days, although I felt like I retained nothing. The same thing happened whenever I opened my sketchbook or tried to read on my e-reader. My brain was utterly fried.
“I wanted to talk about us,” he replied.
I tried so hard to hold back my scoff, because what “us”? The “us” he referred to had been built on a foundation of lies, and all it took was a strong gust of wind and everything we built had fallen.
“There is no us anymore, Quentin,” I snapped. “I feel like the man who I…I feel like I don’t even know you.”
I desperately wanted to scrub the word love from my brain when it came to Quentin; I felt like an utter idiot for having harbored such strong feelings for him.
Once I’d found out what he had done, my feelings had grown tenfold at the same time my heart had broken. Could I allow myself to love someone with such darkness in their heart? Would there be enough space for love and happiness with me?
I felt like an even bigger idiot for not having pieced together what and who he was sooner. If I’d spent a little more time looking into him and his background, and less time ogling his abs and his tattoos—and impressive dick—then maybe I would have known.
Especially with how deeply I was falling for him and wanting to catalog every square inch of his body.
The scariest part was I didn’t know if he felt the same way, and a huge part of me didn’t want to find out. I wanted to stay in the dark about Quentin and his feelings, so I couldn’t be hurt by him a third time.
Three strikes, you’re out.
Quentin chuckled darkly, and my eyes snapped to his, watching as he shook his head with a smirk.
“I told you once before that you were mine, little moon, or have you forgotten?”
I wanted to punch him in the throat so he couldn’t call me that name ever again. It felt like adding salt to an open wound.
“And you also conveniently left out the part about you being a serial killer, but here we are,” I snapped, remembering his heartbreaking confession just days ago.
Never in a million years had I thought there would come a point when I so desperately wanted a murderer to be mine.
“Things haven’t changed since then,” I hissed, and for once his dark mask fell. Seeing him lay himself out in front of me sent a pang through my chest.
A battle raged inside between my heart and my mind. My mind was screaming at me that the logical thing to do was throw this murderer out of my house and forget this ever happened. To put my big girl panties on and get the hell over it.
But my heart was whispering gently that you can’t always help who you fall in love with.
There was a part of Quentin that wasn’t drenched in darkness. He had just been a young man when his sister was taken from him. A lost, confused man who did the only thing he could think of to dull the ache of losing his person.
Some people chose drugs. Some chose porn.
Everyone had a different vice when it came to dulling their emotions, but for Quentin, what silenced the grief in his heart was bloodshed.
It wasn’t like he killed innocent people, or spilled the blood of anyone who didn’t deserve it. He killed men who had it coming. And, above all, he was still capable of emotion, even if he thought he’d turned it off long ago.
“Your time is ticking,” I whispered, not knowing what else I could say.
“Anora, I’m sorry you had to find out about who I was that way. I never intended for it to come out in such a hurtful way,” Quentin began.
“Why’d you do it? You didn’t even know me,” I said, cutting in.
“Because as soon as I laid eyes on you, I was a goner. You were the purest, most beautiful thing I have seen in years. Just knowing there was a light like yours still in the world gave me hope. I knew I had to protect you, and when that jackass opened his mouth and disrespected you, the control I had worked so hard on snapped into a million pieces. I have no regrets, Anora. I would do it again,” Quentin finished.
It all sounded so simple. So cut-and-dry.
Like it made all the sense in the world, and I was the only one who didn’t understand it.
But it didn’t make me feel any better that he was willing to kill for me again and felt no regrets about taking the life of a terrible first date who simply offended me.
“Does anyone else know what you do?” I asked, so many questions still running through my head.
“Joey knows I dip into some dark shit, being my best friend and all, and one of the few people I actually trust. I haven’t actually come right out and told him I’m the Slasher, though. I’m pretty sure he thinks I sneak off to sell drugs or something. The other is Brendan, my tech guy. He’s helping me find my marks,” Quentin answered. “And then there’s you. I’ve done well at concealing my identity these last several years.”
“Aren’t you afraid of getting caught?” I questioned.
“There have been a couple close calls, but I’ve learned what not to do after doing this so long,” he replied. He stood up and slowly approached me. “But I’m willing to give it all up for you.”
“Why would you do that? What makes me so special?” I wondered, wanting him to wrap me in a hug so I could take him all in.
“You are the most important person in my life, Anora,” Quentin said, reaching his hand out to graze my arm and causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin. “You showed me that even though I’m surrounded by evil and darkness, and it feels like there’s no way out, there’s still good in this world. You make me believe that there’s a part of me inside that’s still human. You make me feel like I can do anything I set my mind to, and you’ve shown me what love is. You’ve seen the darkest parts of my soul and still loved me through it.”
“I never said I loved you,” I whispered, feeling lighter than I had in days, buoyed by his words. How did he see through me to know how I truly felt? How did he know what I had tried desperately to deny these past few days?
“You didn’t have to, little moon. I know you, and I know more than anything, with absolute certainty, that I love you with everything inside me. All parts of me, good and bad, want you to be a part of my life for however long I have left of this one.”
Well, fuck.
How was I supposed to turn him away after that? I’d grown up believing that actions spoke louder than words, but the fact that Quentin had come here in the first place and opened his heart to me spoke volumes.
“I hate you,” I grumbled.
“Why?” he asked, his face falling.
“Because you’re right,” I replied while wrapping my arms around his neck. “I do love you. But it still doesn’t give you the right to murder someone because they were mean to me.”
“I’m sorry. I lose my temper and my patience when it comes to you, and right off the bat I should have known you were going to be embedded in my soul when I lost my cool for you the first time I met you. I promise I won’t kill someone who speaks rudely to you again unless you ask me to.”
I didn’t know how I felt about his promise, but hearing his admission that he was wrong felt like it was enough for me.
I wasted no time and barely gave him a moment to respond before smashing my lips to his and relishing the fact that he groaned immediately into my mouth. I’d missed the way his lips had tasted, how they’d felt against mine. It was slightly pathetic because it hadn’t even been that long.
“Why don’t you go home, and I’ll head over and see you in a couple hours?” I asked, already working out a plan to make up for the time we’d been apart; to show Quentin just how much I loved him.
And to show him that his dark side was beginning to not scare me in the slightest. There was something about my very being that pulled me to him against all logic.