What I could never give her.
“Sullen Rule.” Cosmo says my name slyly, like it’s the beginning of a joke.
Karia’s jaw flexes, but she doesn’t look at me.
Slowly, my pulse pounding in my temples, I turn to Cosmo.
“Come here,” he says with a smile that reveals too many teeth, reminding me he has all of his. He nods toward the pan, bacon sizzling in red-pink strips inside it. “Grab a plate.” He glances at the black countertops, the plates of scrambled eggs and shredded hash browns and sugared fruit.
My eyes widen. For a moment, I am struck with hunger. Eating in this kitchen, wandering along this tile floor, it was such a rare thing for me, particularly in the more recent months after Stein stepped down from Writhe and he was able to patrol my every move, all of my caloric intake.
I have never cooked freely here, despite the fact I knew the fridge was always stocked. Despite the fact Stein had a cook; several, to be precise.
And it wasn’t that I was catered to.
No, I was given only enough to survive on and never for the taste alone. I’m quite certain on several occasions throughout my life, in addition to the specimens I kept as pets, Stein fed me canned dog food. It is why I never pass up the opportunity to consume something edible when it presents itself.
Cosmo’s eyes meet mine, blurring me from my past. He has a performer’s smile and I watch it pull on his invisible strings as he curves his lips.
I take a step toward him.
Karia is watching me now.
The double stainless steel fridge hums softly to my left, the breakfast island to the right, and at the stove, there is space for many employees to work without stepping on one another’s toes.
That means there is a lot of room for me to break Cosmo’s neck.
I run my tongue through the gap in my top teeth, keeping my mouth closed.
Cosmo’s fingers tighten on the rubber handle of the frying pan. He releases his grip on the spatula, setting it next to the eggs as he watches me.
The smile is still there.
Then something changes in his expression. A split second, that’s all the forewarning I have. But in my mind, I see Klein the moment he takes his mask off and his face simply… shifts. From human, to something less than.
And when Cosmo jerks the pan, intending to splash hot grease on me, I react first.
I catch his elbow with my hand, shoving upward, and because he can’t stop following through with his own movementas I react too quickly for his brain to comprehend, the grease and bacon pop from the pan, but instead of hitting his intended target—me—it all falls back on him.
Grease bubbles down his white T-shirt, along his throat, coating his skin in oil. A few flickers of bacon fat must hit his face because he hisses through his teeth as he clenches his eyes shut, red marks appearing on his temple, his cheekbone. His jaw is rigid, teeth clacking, and I watch as slimy bacon oozes down the side of the pan, while the more burnt pieces already struck his chest and cracked upon the floor.
Karia is looking at me now.
I can feel her gaze, narrowed in on us.
But I’m not done.
I wrench the pan from Cosmo’s grip, throwing it to the floor. The loud clatter makes me flinch, despite the fact I did it and knew it was coming. My pulse is pounding through my body so hard, it feels as if I am shaking all over.Thisis what it means to fight back.Thisis how revenge can be.
I grab Cosmo’s forearms, both, and I push him back toward the open flame of the burner. A snarled sound leaves his lips as his green eyes lock onto mine, but I’m barely seeing him at all. In my head, his hand is around Karia’s throat. In my mind, he’s touching her, fucking her, I see it on camera, Ifeelit in my heart. A betrayal, even though the word is unfair.
I drive him back.
His spine hits the silver edging of the stove.
He has twisted his hands and they are locked on my wrists now, clutching above my red hoodie, but I am stronger than he is. Performance artist, actor, great pretender; nothing has been faked inmylife, and certainly not my horrors.
I smell the smoke rising like black lace ringlets in the air as his shirt draws closer. One more shove, I could cause him to catch in flames. If I spin him around, push his heart toward thefire, the grease and oil and fat would lick and feed along his chest, his face.
