Under the water, her chest rises and falls with her accelerated breathing. “You’re evil.”
“Do you really think that?”
She closes her eyes instead of answering me.
“I’ve never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it.”
“Murder is wrong. You, of all people, should know that.” She flinches as she says it. She doesn’t like bringing up my parents. She doesn’t want to hurt me.
Even fighting with her, I want to hold her in my arms.
“Sometimes taking a life isn’t murder. It’s justice.”
“You call it justice, but it’s an excuse. You like killing. You like playing vigilante. Admit it.”
I bare my teeth. “I do enjoy it. I never said I didn’t. I rid the world of filth. Ask their victims if what I’m doing is wrong.”
“You’re not doing it for them. It’s all for you. You’ve isolated yourself from everyone and put yourself on this path, calling it justice.”
“Are you profiling me? Or are you profiling yourself?”
She sucks in a breath like I’ve struck her.
“I know you, Inara. I know how alone you are. I’ve been watching you, and I know. . . you’re like me. We need the cause. This higher calling. Because what else do we live for?”
“No. . . I’m not. You’re just a broken boy who grew up to be a broken man.”
“Once again, I’ll ask, are you profiling me or yourself?”
“Stop it,” she whispers.
“I am the man I need to be. I hunt only those who deserve it. And if I had hunted the man who killed your family, he’d be behind bars. Or dead.”
Her skin goes ashy. “He is dead.”
“I would’ve gotten him before he killed the second time.” I don’t saybefore he killed your family.I don’t have to say it. “The system is broken. It failed us. It failed me. It failed you. And yet you defend it.”
“Stop talking. Please.” Her eyes are wide, pupils black.
I’ve gone too far. She’s going to be sick.
“Little bird.” I reach for her, but she hunches her shoulders, avoiding my touch.
“Don’t call me that. Not now. Not after you’ve admitted to all of this.”
“I told you I’d tell you the truth. I don’t want any lies between us. What else do you want to know?”
“How many people have you killed?”
“I don’t know. I’ve lost count.”
She stares above my head, looking into the abyss. I wonder what it’s like to look through her eyes. What horrors she sees in me.
If I could, I’d spare her. But the darkness is part of me.
“They all deserved it,” I tell her. “I can list their sins. Murder, rape, abuse?—”
Her lips move, but nothing comes out. She’s overwhelmed.
