Fuck.
When she stumbles, I’m there in a second, catching her by the elbow. Keeping my eye on Nathan, though I’m sure he’s not going anywhere, I whisper into Bunny’s ear. “Go into the living room. I’ll get you when everything is done.” I’ll make it fast. I will get this shit over with and kill him quickly if that means I can get her out of here and out of her head. This isn’t important. Nathan… he fucked up my life, but he doesn’t fucking matter. Nothing fucking matters! Except… “Bun,” I breathe, “Go out there and wait.Please.”
But she won’t budge. “No.” Her voice is lifeless. “I’m staying.” I feel her other hand reach around, grazing my fingers on her skin.
“You sure?” I ask, but her eyes stay fixed on the body, frozen in time, just like her.
Cade
The air in the room is shit now, heavy with the cloying sweetness of blood, and I just want to get this over with. After fixing Bunny in the corner of the room, I rip the comforter off the bed and throw it over the heap on the floor.
Drained, I order, “Stand.” Nathan doesn’t make me ask twice, scurrying to his feet like a weak little rat. There’s a moment in the ring when you look into the eyes of your opponent, and the only thing staring back at you is surrender. That’s what I see now as Nathan hunches forward, accepting what’s coming. He knows I’m going to kill him, but it’s the how that keeps him scared.
I don’t need him afraid, though. That’s not the point. I just need his honesty. Maybe now, after all he’s seen, we won’t need to go that far. “Now tell me why you chose me.”
He hangs his head in resignation, the little bit of fight he had draining from his shoulders. “You fit the profile I was given.”
“And what was that?”
Some color finds Nathan’s face as bits of strength return to him. “Handsome,” he mutters, contrite. “Strong… Someone the men wouldn’t mind betting on and the whores wouldn’t mind fucking. Yes,” he pauses, appearing sick as he admits to his sins,“there were tons of you there that night, butyou… You wereperfect.” Nathan’s eyes somewhat glaze over, staring straight at me but through… as if I’m not even here. “Still are… but you were who Marone picked out of the litter.”
I have to be confused, but I’m sure there’s a bit of jealousy in Nathan’s tone. It sure is reflected in his watery gaze. But why? What is there to be jealous of? I was a fucking pet to Marone—a prize fucking mutt. He hated me almost as much as he loved me.
To see this weak, pathetic excuse of a man pine after my torment, after everything he knows I was subjected to… well. Maybe we do need to go that far.
Without a word—without a fucking hint—I strike forward, feeling every crunch of broken bones as Nathan’s nose shatters. His screams are muffled behind his palm, drowning in a steady current of thick, crimson blood.
“Get up,” I demand, wiping my sore knuckles against my thigh. When he stays in his curled position, I jab my foot into his side. “I saidget up!” Stabbing my nails into the soft cushion in the back of his neck, I bring him to his feet, tearing his palm away from his nose so I can see the blood that deserves to be shed.
I spin Nathan around, holding onto him with an iron grip while I force him to look at me. “Please,” he cries, fingers shaking as they form into hands of prayer. I used to pray.
I said please way too many times.
“Do you know how many times I begged please?” Nathan takes that as permission to speak, butfuck. I don’t want to hear him! Quicker than he can react to, I dart the handle of my blade into the side of his head, letting him go in time for him to hit the ground. “Do you know how many times I asked them to stop beating me?! To stopwhippingme?! Do you know what they did?!”
“Please,” is his only reply. “Please…” Please. Please—motherfuckingplease!
I drop to his level, making sure the only thing he can see is me—ensuring the only thing in his headis me. Waving the bloodied, rusted knife in his eyes, I bring us both back to the past—to the very first injury I never healed from. “They took this from my back and forced it into my hand.” I recall the moment Marone had his guard do it. I remember every single fiery second of that blade entering my tissue and my muscle, all the way down to my bone. It came out slick, coated in pieces of me.
“This blood,” I drawl, flashing him the vast history, “is on your hands as much as it's on mine. Can you live with that?”
A puddle forms beneath my shoes as he pisses himself, his bubbling cries drowning out stuttered, muffled words. The color of his skin drains with his urine, leaving me staring at a ghost.
No. Mm hm. No, he doesn’t get to do that. Nathan doesn’t get to disappear while Bunny and I are forced to live with it.
Taking hold of his chin, I drag Nathan close, breathing in his foul stench. “Can you live with that, Nathan? Those men—thosekids—deaths on your hands.”
After some time, well, he turns out to be exactly who I knew he was.
“Y-yes. I can.”
An honest monster. I can respect that. “And because of you, so can I.” Without breaking eye contact, I sink the blade into the delicate area beneath his belly button, tearing him open from the inside out. Thick pieces of intestine and stomach matter fall against my feet, but I don’t stop until I reach his heart. I want to feel the tremoring beats stop against the metal; only then do I think I can breathe a little easier.
When everything stills, I smile, tasting the blood on my teeth. I need both my hands to rip the knife free from his bones. When it’s back in my possession, I clean the gore on the carpet, secretlywatching Bunny fight the need to be sick. Her hand is pressed tightly against her abdomen, muscles stiff.
I want to go to her. I want her to run to me, but we’re both too damaged, and I don’t know what touch could do to us right now. Would she be scared of me? Would I flinch away from here? Purely out of disgust with myself.
Another monster shouldn’t touch her, even if it’s me.
