Page 106 of As the World Falls

“Stop,” she snaps, cutting me off. “Just stop. I…I need to be alone. I can’t do this with you right now.” She turns and runs through the doors before I get another word in. I follow behind her, but she races up the stairs. I stop when I hear her door slam shut from the bottom of them.

This back-and-forth with her was getting tiresome. She clearly chose not to see me as anyone other than a monster. After what we had just done, I didn’t think there were any more ways I could convince her that I could be different for her.

If she wanted me to be the bad guy, then fine. I’ll keep being the bad guy.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Cecilia

Loud noises wake me, and I sit up in bed, seeing nothing but darkness. I’ve spent the entire day in bed. After everything that had happened between James and me yesterday, I couldn’t bring myself to leave my room out of fear of seeing him.

Out of fear of realizing what I already knew deep down.

I didn’t just have feelings for him. I was heart-shatteringly and irrationally in love with him. Being in his arms yesterday, so exposed and vulnerable, I had never felt so alive and seen by someone. I had never wanted something or someone so badly in my life. I never needed someone like I was starting to need him.

I craved being around him all the time. I always wanted to know what he was thinking and why he thought the way he did. I wanted to know his life story and how he became who he was. I wanted to give him all the love that he failed to be given by his own father.

But I was scared.

I glance at the clock on my nightstand and see that it’s only eleven at night. I heard the noises again and realized it was people talking and it was coming from outside. I looked overto my window, almost too scared to see, but the curtains were drawn wide open because I liked looking out into the maze.

I swallow back my anxiety, step out of bed, and look outside. It’s dark, but I can see the patio lit up with lanterns and James and someone else I don’t recognize sitting at one of the tables. I’m instantly wide awake and alert when I see several banded stacks of cash on the table, black velvet boxes, and a gun on the table beside the stranger. It was perched on the edge, ready to be grabbed and aimed straight at James should things escalate.

My heart picks up speed, and I glance back at James, who looks slouched and relaxed in his chair. The man across from him is rambling something I can’t make out, so I quietly open the window to hear better.

A soft breeze blows my hair back as I slide the window open, but I still can’t fully hear what they say. I can only hear words likedeal,public, andarmed—all words that don’t necessarily give me a good feeling. But I see James’s one hand resting on his thigh, balling into a fist, and I know something is instantly wrong.

The guy in front of him won’t stop talking, and then he pulls what looks like photographs from inside his suit jacket pocket and sets them down on the table in front of James. I can’t make them out, but James only looks down at them briefly before looking back at the man across from him, who is smirking a little too smugly for my comfort.

I feel like I know it’s going to happen before it does. I knew James well enough now to see all the signs of his building anger, but I was still shocked when he flipped the table between them, sending the man's gun flying into the hedges surrounding them, and lunges for him.

The stranger doesn’t get a chance to stand or fight back before James’s hand wraps around his throat and squeezes as he pulls something out from his pocket. I can’t see what it is or whathe’s doing with it because his body is blocking everything from my line of sight, but then the man starts screaming in agony, his legs shaking violently as he tries to push James off of him to no avail. My chest hurts as I watch the scene play out, but I can’t bring myself to stop it. I watch cowardly as the man writhes in pain as James uses every ounce of strength to torture him.

Suddenly, things go quiet. James stands up, breathing heavily as his right hand drops to his side, and I see the switchblade dripping blood in his hand. My stomach rolls, and my hand flies to my mouth to stifle any noise, but when James steps aside, I’m met with the sight of the man sitting in the chair, rivers of blood running down his face from his now empty eye sockets. My gaze seems to find his eyeballs on their own, plopped onto the ground between them.

A shocked scream rips out of me, and James turns around, his head lifting until his eyes find mine. My hands are bracing the edge of the window, not realizing I’m hanging outside as I stare down at him. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t react quickly to hide what he’s done. He just stares at me, wickedly shameless.

I rip my gaze from him, slamming and locking the window shut. I snatch the curtains closed and run to the bathroom, shutting myself inside and bracing myself on the bathroom sink. I stare at myself, my heart finally reaching a normal pace. And then…I’m okay.

Why was I okay?

I should be hiding. Screaming. Throwing up or calling the cops. Instead, I splash my face with cold water and take a deep breath.

I step out of the bathroom and stop when I see James leaning against the doorframe of my bedroom door.

“Did I wake you?” he asks. He’s wiping the switchblade off with a handkerchief with pure ease, like he didn’t just commit a violent act that shook me to my core.

I grind my teeth together. “You did, actually.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “My apologies, little owl. I had a late meeting tonight.”

I fight to keep my breath steady as I try to remain calm. “Looks like it didn’t end well.”

He shakes his head. “It did not. He’s alive, though, in case you were wondering. Just passed out from the pain.”

That fact did make me feel slightly better, but I wouldn’t let him know that. “It doesn’t matter to me. You’re a monster either way.”

He tilts his head as he looks at me, stepping further into the room. “Just like that? You don’t care to know why I did what I did?”

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