Page 9 of Holy Sinner

The wind whistles through the pines and I can hear them creak as they sway. Somewhere near us there’s the rustle of underbrush. No doubt a squirrel or marmot scurrying home, the little critter sticking to the shadows and staying out of sight to stay safe from predators.

Jasmine isn’t that smart, though.

Most likely because she thinks she’s the predator. That’s the only explanation for her sitting out here in the open for me.

“You think you’re so tough now just because you have a couple of famous boyfriends? Everyone thinks you’re all crazy. If they weren’t so famous they’d be risking everything to do this publicly. No one sees why they picked you–but I know.”

Jasmine’s words sting but only because it’s what I privately think. I don’t know why they picked me. I can’t see why they chose me either. It doesn’t matter how many times Grant tells me he loves me or Rafe sends soft smiles my way, I don’t get it.

Funny Jasmine and I agree on something.

“Oh yeah?” I tuck my hands into my pockets, the weight of the knife Grant made me start carrying is comforting. It’s small. The blade fits in my palm but it’s enough to get the job done. “What do you know?”

“You’re blackmailing them,” she spits at me and points a manicured finger my way. “The only way men like them would even look your way is if you had something that could ruin them. Something that would make it worth committing career suicide.”

I squeeze the handle of the knife in my pocket. “Career suicide? That’s what you think being with me is?” The wind kicks up and blows dirt up at us. Jasmine shields her eyes and blinks. I keep my eyes on her. A little dirt never hurt anyone.

“I don’t think it. I know it.”

“And that’s why your career is counting on this movie, isn’t it?”

Jasmine blinks and steps back. “What did you say? I was successful way before you or this-”

I snort and pull the knife out from my pocket with a flick of my wrist. “You were in one shitty web series that got picked up to stream for free that you just so happened to get noticed by the right people. What have you actually done other than pretend you’re me?”

“Oh, so you admit it then? I knew this was just some fucked up self-insert fic, you freak.” Jasmine tries to sound tough but she’s watching the knife in my hand. Not even her ‘freak’ has the usual bite to it. Or maybe it does and I just don’t care anymore.

Because the sad thing is, I did care what Jasmine thought. Once upon a time. I don’t know why but I did. Maybe it's because she looks like Rosa the way I imagined her. It feels like I’m arguing with the evil twin of my oldest friend. But Rosa isn’t real and fuck Jasmine.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, because you believe it,” I say. I head straight for her, so fast that Jasmine doesn’t know what to do when I close the space between us and grab her by her neck. I lift the knife and bring it to her throat. “Since day one you’ve said Rosa is me. It’s not true but you made it true for you, didn’t you? How does it feel to pretend to be me?”

Jasmine thrashes in my grip but I’m stronger than her. It isn’t just self defense Grant and Rafe have made me learn, they also drag me to the gym with them now. I hate the gym but I like feeling strong. I never felt strong before my men. I watch Jasmine’s face, her eyes are wide and when she realizes she can’t break my grip, she whimpers.

Maybe it’s not strength that I’m feeling right now. It’s power. Yeah, that’s probably it.

“Is it career suicide playing me?” I give her a shake and press the knife deeper until it pricks her skin. Blood wells up and runs down the side of her neck. It stains her sundress. The red stains are dark but pretty with the pink of her dress.

I press the knife harder and Jasmine cries out. “Do you think anyone will care about your suicide?”

She falls silent and I feel her start to shake. “Oh my god. What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy? Let me go! Help!” She swings at me but I block it and slam my fist into her stomach. Jasmine doubles over and throws up immediately.

I frown and give her back an awkward pat. “Shit, I hit you hard. Sorry.”

She wheezes and falls to her knees in her puddle of puke. Wardrobe is going to have to clean her up big time before any shooting goes on today. Oh well. I grab Jasmine by her hair and jerk her head back to look up at me. Jasmine’s mouth gapes like a fish as she struggles to suck in another breath. The sound grates on me.

“You yell again and I’ll hit you again, understand?” I give her hair a sharp yank to make sure she gets the point but dropping her the way I just did was honestly enough I think, because Jasmine just nods quickly and manages a broken ‘yes.’

“Good girl. Now, my boyfriends are taking it easy on you because they think it would upset me but guess what Jasmine? I don’t give a fuck. I need you for my movie and that’s about it. Whatever happens to you after the movie, well, that’s the way life goes when you’re a stupid mean girl bitch. Tragedies happen every day and you know what? I don’t think anyone would care if you killed yourself. Of course, I’m going to help you with that. You finish my movie and it becomes a beautiful hit and guess what? If you die then it’ll mean something. People just might,” I slap her cheek with each word, “care,” I finish, giving her an extra hard slap.

“Are you going to kill me?” Jasmine whispers. There’s tears in her eyes. She’s beautiful, so, so beautiful. I tenderly brush the hair away from her face and sigh. Too bad there’s so much ugly in her.

I shoot her a wink. “No, silly. You’re going to kill yourself. I would never do that.”

“But you-”

“We were talking about suicide, remember?” I remind her and then crouch down beside her. “You keep acting like an asshole and going near my men and I’ll kill you and make everyone believe you did it.”

“You’re insane.”

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