Page 23 of After the Chase

"You got the bat from the trunk. I didn't even know it was there. And when you swung it, wow, you were so at ease, focused. Like you'd done it a thousand times."

"I have."

"You looked like you were born for it."

"What else?"

"The sound. The way the bat connected with his skull. It should have been horrifying. But all I could think was that you were protecting me and that you'd do anything to keep me safe."

"I would."

"I know. And that's…fuck…that's what made me so desperate for you. Knowing that you'd kill for me and there's no line you wouldn't cross for me."

He's fucking me harder now, his control slipping. "You liked it."

"Yessss, I loved watching you. I liked knowing what you're capable of. I liked…" I struggle to think as sparks of electric run through my body, setting my core alight.

"What?" he urges, his large hands squeeze my ass, making me clench around him.

"I liked belonging to someone who could do that, to someone who would do that."

The confirmation is all he needs as he cums with a groan, his fingers digging into my ass hard enough to hurt. The pain pushes me over the edge, and I follow him, spurting ribbons of cum between us.

Afterward, I can barely focus my eyes, dizzy from the exertion. Noah’s skin is sweaty, his heart beating fast against me as we lie tangled together, both of us breathing hard.

"Your journal," Noah says after a long silence. "Is it so you can learn more about me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because I need to understand, not just who you are but how we navigate that in our lives."

"You're studying me."

"I never stopped being your therapist, Noah, not really. You intrigue me too much to stop."

He's quiet for a moment. "And what have you concluded so far?"

I turn to face him, my hand on his chest. "That you're a psychopath, which you already know. No empathy, no remorse,no emotional connection to anyone except me. And even that connection is about control and possessiveness rather than love.."

"And that doesn't bother you."

"No. Because I understand it. I understand that what you feel for me is the closest you can come to love and that’s all I need."

"You're rationalizing."

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm just accepting reality."

He pulls me closer, his arm wrapping around my waist. "I won't stop, Chase. I'll keep killing anyone who threatens you, nobody is safe and I can’t change that about myself.

"I know. I don’t want you to change." The words leave my mouth before I can question them, and the silence that follows is heavier than anything we've said tonight.

Noah watches me for a long moment, as if committing the confession to memory. Then he brushes his thumb over my cheek with surprising tenderness. It doesn't fit with the man I watched cave in two skulls only hours ago. Somehow, that's the part that unsettles me most, because I know it’s not tenderness, it’s Noah appreciating the object in front of him.

After he falls asleep, I stare at the dark ceiling, replaying every second of today. All of the blood, the bat and the look on Noah’s face. I keep telling myself that I'm trying to understand him, that my journal is an objective record, the observations of a therapist dissecting an extraordinary mind.

But therapists don't get aroused watching their patients kill. Normal therapists don't climb willingly into bed with monsters and ask them to hold them afterwards. Somewhere along the line, I stopped studying the darkness and started making a home inside it.