“Because the knife was poisoned. You’ll be dead in three minutes.”
I held my breath as I went through the long list of consequences should my death really come to me. For a minute, there was only silence, then she burst out cackling. I released her, and she stepped away, still laughing like a psycho. Pointing the gun at her, I picked up the knife and threw it to the kitchen. She laughed uncontrollably, as if she didn’t have a gun pointed at her. “You’re lying.” I wasn’t confident but hoped to find out by her reaction.
Within an instant, she broke the laughter. “You know I’m not. How does it feel to know you’ll be dead in two minutes?”
“One minute, and the answer is, I’m glad I’m dying by your side,” I said before rushing to her. Snatched her hair, I squeezed hard it in my fist while digging the gun into her neck again and kissing her lips once, gently. “You drive me fucking crazy.”
She slapped me. “Don’t fucking touch me again.”
To make sure the gun wouldn’t accidentally blow her head off, I stepped away as I added to my declaration of obsession. “I should have never come here, but I couldn’t help it.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck!” she screeched.
“And before I die, I would like to let you know that my biggest regret in my life has been not saving you from them. I should have given my life to save y—”
“So why didn’t you? Huh?” She leaned her face forward, shaking it while arching her eyebrow. Then all the anger filled her beautiful face, pouring out of her eyes. “You fucking, coward!”
“It’s complicated.
She shrieked and scratched at my face, lifting skin, leaving raw streaks. “Fuck you!”
I turned away from her lethal nails and closed the space between us to kiss her again. Her back crashed against the wall, then I pinned her in place. I couldn’t help it, I kissed her deeply, my tongue entering her mouth, inviting it to play and she curled her tongue around mine. No one could tell me the air around us didn’t sizzle. I was helpless and wanted her so badly. We were breathing so loud and fast. And then that whimper, that motherfucking whimper, shook my entire body. I kissed her until my lips were numb, until tiny pinpricks told me that was enough. I answered her whimper with my own. It was dizzying and feeding me everything I’d ever wanted, yet sucking away my soul. She melted into me, with her whimper became one of wanting, and I smelled her need for me. For a second, she was willing to be all mine to become my little dirty whore.
But my little one punched me hard, and when I didn’t move, she searched for the wound on my chest and pushed her nail into the gash. My groan grew longer and louder as she pushed deeper then widened the wound until I stepped away. “I said don’t fucking touch me!”
“You also said I would be dead by now, so, you can’t blame me for wanting to kiss you one more time before I die.”
For a minute, we stood there, like two feral panthers in the night, breathing heavily and fast, fighting over the territory of her body. The air crackled around us. She glared at me while I silently begged her for everything, for forgiveness, her body, her mind, her fucking soul. “You feel it too, don’t you?” I asked, and jutted my chin toward her.
“What are you doing here?”
“If I can find you, so can they. You realize that, right? I see you didn’t listen to me. Didn’t change your appearance.”
“That’s what you’re here to tell me? That my hair is still black?”
“No.”
“Then what, fucking pendejo?” The insult forced a titter out of me.
“First, answer me. Do you feel it?”
“All I feel is a need to fucking kill you!” I was surprised at the lack of fear and remembered Mael saying she was a closeted psycho. Images of her stabbing his body countless times crossed my mind.
That was it. I tried so hard, I even licked between my lips and bit my tongue, but I just couldn’t help it. The laughter exploded out of me. She searched for the knife, and her gaze dropped to the gun in my hand.
“How was Belfast?”
The corners of her lips turned down slightly, and her eyes locked on mine. Despite her expressionless face, I still wanted to confirm that no one had hurt her. “What happened in Belfast? Did someone hurt you?” I asked, my words tumbling out and filled to the brim with concern.
“I—”
“What? Tell me!”
“I don’t have to tell you shit! Get the fuck out!”
“Wait, Maggie—”
“Don’t call me that. I have a fucking name, unlike you. You fucking puto cabron. Go!” She pointed at the door. I rushed to her again and within seconds had under my complete control her wrists crossed behind her back. She gasped, but I quieted her with my hand around her throat. The gun was in my back pocket. Her ass cheeks were pressed against my hardened dick. I squeezed her throat then released it so she could speak. “Still feel nothing?” I waited for her answer, wishing her to confess that she felt the same way I did, that she, too, had thought of me every day since we’d met. “I think about you every day, Little One. Every fucking day. I wish we would have met under different circumstances. I wish I weren’t the person I am. You’re the only thing that has ever made me want a different life. You’ve taken over my mind, my sanity, my soul. I fell in love with you that night.”
