Page 69 of Heart of a Killer

“Why did you choose Delphin as my new name and Hawkmoth as our new last name?”

He chuckles softly. The scar on his cheek, tattooed with stitches, stretches ever so slightly.

“Delphin for Delphinium. Hawkmoth for the death and destruction we bring in our path,” he states solemnly.

“You named me after the flower I almost killed you with?!”

My startled voice makes Brie stir beside me. I have to be more careful—she’s not a happy camper if you wake her up after she’s been working long hours.

“I thought it was fitting. Something so small and adorable could be so lethal. Plus, I thought it was hilarious. Maybe not the best joke, but, hey, I’m still here, right?”

I laugh quietly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I snuggle into his side more, and he pulls me closer so my head rests on his chest.

Looking up at the mirror above our bed, I see the glow on my face. I’mactuallyhappy and the way my curves fit perfectly against Alex and Brie, I feel confident and sexy. I’ve never been more myself than I am right now.

Turning back to Alex, he is already sleeping. His face is relaxed and butterflies flutter in the pit of my stomach. That’s when I realize I’ve fallen for more than a killer. There is more to him than anyone else will ever see. I’ve fallen for my best friend, my sibling I never knew or got to experience, my soul mate, my adventure, my safe space, and the biggest heart that no one will ever get to see.

Well, except for Brie, of course, but she’s the exception to all the rules.

Brieanna

The sun beamsin through the curtains, shining right in my eyes. Alex really needs to get us those blackout curtains so I can sleep in later.

I feel the warmth of Skylar’s arm around my midsection and ease it off me before slipping out of bed. I throw on a long shirt of Alex’s and shorts before padding down the stairs. Cooper runs through my legs, making me stumble a bit.

“You miss me, hungry girl?”

I feed the kitty before turning on the coffeemaker. The clicking of the machine fills the room, and I walk over to the couch and turn on the T.V. The news opens on the screen to a box-dyed female reporter.

“This small town outside Memphis, Tennessee, hit a tragedy this morning. One medical professional was found dead, while another was found injured at Mourning Cloak Psychiatric Facility. More bodies are still being recovered as we speak. The locals are calling them the Mourning Cloak Devils, and if you see these individuals...” She waves her hand in the air, and pictures of Skylar and me appear on the screen, but a third box remains blank. “Please do not confront them. Go directly to your nearest law enforcement. We do not have a picture of the third assailant, and we are working with a staff member to devise a sketch of the individual in question. They were last seen wearing tan scrubs.”

The screen cuts to a man with a comb-over and blue dress shirt, who looks solemnly into the camera and says, “This is a recording. We are steadfast in finding these individuals. It has been three months with no sign of them. We have some theories that these killers are in connection with the missing person cases, as well as a house fire in Texas. This is the man in question.” They bring up a picture of Alex. “He seems to be the most dangerous of them all. This is all the information the police have permitted us to share at this time.”

My teeth grind together at the man’s statements about Alex. They don’t know him like I do. He is the sweetest and kindest soul. All the assholes who seem to be good aren’t what they seem, and I have first-hand experience with that.

I stand up, stretching, from the couch. The coffee aroma fills the house, but the machine continues to crackle away. It’s not finished yet, so I’ll go check the mail.

I step outside, and the desert sun beats down on my exposed legs. Alex’s long shirt sways in the light breeze, making my shorts seem nonexistent. The walk down to the mailbox seems forever, the concrete burning the soles of my bare feet.

A group of kids skip ropes at the house next door, causing me to smile—until I hear the chorus they are chanting.

“Criss-cross, leather straps. Three marks the spot. Circle that, don’t look back, or you might get caught.”

The kids continue to jump on one foot and then the other. My feet are cemented to the concrete, and my chest tightens, causing my breathing to become labored. Black smoke swirls around them, and one of the kids holding the rope turns to look at me with a grin. Their smile grows to cover their whole face until there’s nothing but a gaping space and beady white eyes.

Their high-pitched voices continue singing,“The Mourning Cloak Devils will show you no mercy. They’re the asylum rebels considered to be unworthy.”

“Codi! Codi!”

I shake my head, and the kids look normal again. Skylar is running toward me, where I stand at the mailbox.

“Hey, everything okay?” I ask her.

“I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

“Yeah, totally fine. Just grabbing the mail,” I say, holding up the envelopes in my hand.

The shadow never left me after we escaped the asylum. The nurse who told Alex it was just a sleep paralysis demon, a night hag—that was just wishful thinking. We found that I have schizophrenia. The sleep deprivation and drugs I used to combat it only heightened those visions. Since I’m a criminal now, I can’t go to a doctor for it, so Skylar and Alex do everything they can to help me stay grounded in reality. I don’t tell her what I saw because I don’t want to worry her.

I follow her back into our home, where my type of crazy is always loved.

The End