“I was thinking.” My voice is croaky, loud after the silence. “I might need a good shrink after this.”
Damien laughs. “Probably. Though finding one you can talk to freely will be challenging.”
“Patient confidentiality has limits?”
“Severe limits.” His fingers lace through mine. “But we’ll find someone trustworthy.”
Bryan’s breathing deepens, occasionally broken with strangled snorts. I’m impatient, wanting it done, wanting it over with, and sit on his chest, gently rising and falling along with his ribcage.
Damien clears his throat. “You skipped out on my declaration last night.” There’s vulnerable undertone in his voice.
“Was that only last night? It feels like weeks ago.”
He crouches before me, hands covering mine. “Will you stay with me? Will you let me provide everything you need and let me find ways to turn your dreams into reality?”
“And what if we both end up in prison?”
“Then we’ll get matching tattoos.” He nuzzles closer. “Like bars and concrete could ever keep me away from you.”
The last of my hesitancy dissolves as I realise Bryan’s chest has stopped moving. “Can you check his pulse?”
He presses two fingers against Bryan’s neck. Counts down a minute. “Nothing.”
I climb off the body, my legs shaking, and Damien leads me into the hallway, closing the door on the scene.
A month ago, I was planning my suicide. Collecting pills, biding my time. Now I’m a murderer.
There are so many things I should feel. Horror. Guilt. Regret.
All I feel is alive.
“This is probably the wrong time…” Damien donned his jacket again during the cleanup, and his fingers dip into the inside pocket. He withdraws a corsage box; the pale blue ribbon crushed against the white cardboard. “It’s a gift, but you mightn’t want it.”
I take it from his hands. It’s light. Innocuous. My fingers hesitate at the lid, heartbeat quickening with wariness and intrigue. I lift it slowly.
Nestled in black velvet lies a small piece of flesh, greyish-pink and withered. It takes a few seconds of head tilting scrutiny before I work out what it is.
“You bought me a severed penis?” A bubble of hysteria rises in my throat, releasing in a burst of giggles. This day is fucking mental. “What a thoughtful gift.”
“I told you Craig would never assault another girl at a party.”
The organ is small, wrinkled. Pathetic. “Is he…?”
“Alive? Yes, just minus one unimportant piece.” Damien leans closer, voice dropping low. “Unless you tell me different, which can also be arranged.”
The hairs on my arms stand on end. “Won’t you get in trouble?”
“I can be careful when I want to be.” His fingertip traces an invisible circle on my inner wrist. “And I’d never risk anything leading back to you.”
I laugh and then can’t stop. A sharp, broken sound that builds until tears stream down my face. Until my ribs ache. “You’re insane,” I gasp between fits. “Completely insane.”
“Yeah.” He takes the box from my hands before I drop it. “But you love me, anyway.”
The words are teasing, but I take them with the seriousness they deserve. “I don’t know what love is. My mother didn’t love me and Bryan sure didn’t. Everything I learned about relationships from movies or books is a lie.”
“Then let’s start with what feels good. Because being with you is better than being with anyone else in the world.”
“Okay.” He’s right. “I can start there.”
