"Stop." I beg her, shaking my head, trying to convince her to back off.
"Nick..." She groans. "I don't feel so good."
"Nikki..." I whimper, putting my hands to my ears to try and block out her words.
It does nothing, though, because her words are in my head.
"Nick, stop..."
"I want to go home..."
"Hurts."
"Stop!" I yell, loud enough to shut out all the voices.
And it works...
A silence falls around us that not even the Christmas music pierces.
I open my eyes slowly, but she's not there. The church is empty, and it gives me the courage to pull my hands away from my ears slowly.
There's no water, no blood, no Nikki.
I'm alone...
A quick glance around confirms as much, so I stand, swallowing my pride.
I'm losing my fucking mind, and I need this to be over. After mass, I'm going to pop two of my dad's sleeping pills and hopefully not wake up until dinner is ready tomorrow. I need to be put into a fucking coma after this, to let me recover.
The cord wraps around my throat so quickly I don't even get a chance to try and pull it away before the tug drags my feet out from beneath me again, sending me crashing to the floor. I try to grab at the ground, try to grab hold of anything that I can, but the cord around my neck is thick, little bulbs poking into me at odd intervals, and as it tightens, the church around me fades away, the lights blurring together and swirling before dimming, and then going out entirely.
Chapter 14
Nikki
Nickgroans,hisheadrolling forward as his lashes begin to flutter.
"Rise and shine, sleepyhead." I croon, brushing hair from his face with delicate fingers.
It takes a moment for awareness to come to him as he fights the comfort of sleep, but when he finally wakes, it's with a start, his eyes widening as he tries to determine where he is.
"What's going on?" He tests his bondage— the pretty strand of Christmas lights. What can I say? I was inspired by Noah's use of them with Brant.
There's no light inside of him, clearly, so I had to get creative.
I could have just stabbed him and been done with it. I could have run him over with his own car. But I made a list in my head, and when I checked it twice, I realized that I'd forgotten someone. So, now, I'm killing two birds with one stone.
"Nikki?" He snaps his head every direction, searching for me, as if it will make a difference whether he can see me or not.
But I let him see me— not as an angel, not as the dead version of myself... just me.
"Nikki." He sighs in relief when I materialize before him. It's misguided, a foolish belief that he can talk me out of this. He doesn't even know what this is, but he knows karma's a bitch. "Nikki, I'm sorry. I never meant for you to get hurt. You know that, right?"
I appraise him in the dim light of the confessional, which is too small of a space for us to be in together. I may not take up space, but being closed in with him is cloying.
My mind goes back to that closet in his basement, his hand on my mouth as we hid together from his father.
But I'm not a kid anymore.I'min charge, now.
