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When it was over, I lay limp in his arms, shivering. My skin burned where he’d cut me. My throat ached from the choking, the screaming, the begging. My mind spun, dizzy with horror.

Malakar stroked my hair, soothing and cruel. “You did so well. I knew you could.”

For a moment, I let myself melt into him. The monster was gone, just a man holding me, breathing me in, pressing soft kisses into my hair. I wanted to hate him, but the comfort was real, warm and suffocating.

It was sick. Needing the man who broke you. Loving the hands that hurt you. Wanting the monster in the dark because you’re too afraid to be alone.

I let him cradle me, letting him bandage the cut on my stomach, letting him whisper sweet, poisonous things in my ear. I didn’t want to need him. I didn’t want to love him. But the terror was softer now, edged with longing.

I just wanted him to put me out of my misery and kill me. I didn’t want to fall for the monster. I didn’t want to enjoy what the monster gave to me.

Chapter 20

Do You Love Me?

Malakar

My bluebird was helping with the loneliness.

Before she fluttered back into my life, I couldn’t ever fill the void that was filling me up. No other woman could do it, they all failed me. In the end, the emptiness won, and the dark swarmed over me. It chipped away the souls of those girls, until they were nothing but broken dolls. My darkness destroyed them, it ate them up.

I wouldn’t let my darkness eat up my bluebird. But, could I really control it?

Today, she was back in the basement. I couldn’t remember what happened, but something made me force her back down there into the dark. What did she do? What did I say? Why couldn’t my brain ever fucking cooperate?

When I went down there, she was curled up on the mattress. Her back was facing me. Was she sleeping? Or was she dead? Did I kill her?

I reached forward and touched the side of her face. She flinched and jumped away. Her eyes were wide with fear when she turned toward me.

Fear. Just like how mother used to look at me. And my father.

“Please, just stay away from me. I can’t take it anymore.” Starla scooted towards the wall and pulled her knees to her chest. Her face was streaked with tears.

I tilted my head in confusion. “Why are you afraid, bluebird? We were finally making progress.”

She scoffed. “Do you really have to ask? You hurt me, Malakar. You’re not supposed to hurt the things you love. You cherish them.” She exhaled a breath and looked away. “I was feeling okay with you, but then you snapped, and it scared me.”

I searched the depths of my brain but couldn’t remember. Why did I have to go into blackouts? Why couldn’t I just be normal?

“I’m sorry, bluebird. I don’t want to hurt you, ever. Please don’t be scared of me.” I crouched down in front of the bed and put my hands on her legs. She had the softest skin.

“You keep saying that, but you keep hurting me. Over and over.” A sob broke through her lips. “Why do you keep hurting me? I can’t seem to escape it. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” Her head hung low. Her spirit was breaking, my sweet bluebird.

“It’s not me, it’s someone else. A darkness invades me and controls my head. I’ll try harder, I promise, bluebird. Just please don’t look so sad.” I put my hand on her face and wiped her tears. She leaned her head into my touch.

“Why do you do this, Malakar? You make me fear you, then you act so sweet, and I don’t know what to trust. But when you’re acting sweet, I want it to last. I fall into it, and it makes me want to trust you.” More tears fell, she was crying hard now. The sobs made her shoulders quiver. A deep panic came over me. What did this mean? Did she love me? Did she hate me? Would she leave?

No, she wouldn’t dare.

I hated seeing her cry. My bluebird. Mine. She shouldn’t be sad. I shouldn’t let her be sad. That was my job, wasn’t it? Keep her safe. Keep her happy. Love her enough that the sorrow never stuck.

But every time I tried to hold the sadness back, it bled through my fingers, got into my mouth, choked me with shame and anger and all the other things I couldn’t name.

“I’ll make it up to you,” I blurted, too loud, too desperate. My hands clenched and unclenched on her knees, skin buzzing with static. “Please, Starla. Let me—let me fix it. I can fix it. I swear.”

She watched me with a wary expression. I hated that look. I wanted to tear it off her face, shove a smile onto her lips and keep it there forever. My chest hurt. I rocked forward on my heels, head swimming.

“I’ll make you dinner,” I said, voice cracking. “A real dinner. You don’t have to eat alone in the dark. You can sit at the table with me, like—like you’re my wife.”