Page 34 of Scary Suitor

“This way,” I say, a snarling sound latching onto the words.

Alina retreats and shakes her head, shaky hands wiping the tears from her blotchy face. Another heart-wrenching sob tugs at my heartstrings, and my hands itch to comfort her.

“I don’t want to play anymore,” she weeps quietly, “I want to go home.”

“This is not a game,” I correct, impatience reeling its horrendous sensation on my back. “I need to show you how serious my feelings are.”

“Don’t want to know,” she protests and snivels heavily behind her wrists.

“The sooner we finish this, the sooner we’ll go home.” Perhaps I’m too harsh. But the bitter ache in my heart refuses to forget the malicious insults she threw at me.

Her desire to be safe at home dominates her irrational fear. It’s irrational because her fear is founded on baseless uncertainties construed into nightmares.

She steps into the glass room, standing close to me for silent comfort. The door closes seamlessly as the woman on the ground writhes, using every inch of her pathetic life to stay on this planet longer.

I toss my suit jacket to the side; I slept on my desk, so it’s dirty anyway.

“Would a monster do this to you?” I question, rolling up my sleeves before swiftly taking the rib-cutter off the ground.

I pierce the blades into Holt’s skin, blood pooling at the wound, and with a steady clasp, her rib snaps. Alina flinches, knees colliding with the floor as she sits there, face ashen. Holt’s scream echoes, confined in the room, but people in other cages still cower to the farthest corner.

Alina’s not paying attention, crying endlessly as she balances with one hand on the floor. Why is she crying so hard for a woman whokidnappedher?

Why can’t my pretty girl appreciate the things I do for her?

Ungrateful brat.

I redirect the furious glare to Holt, cutting her ribs recklessly to empty my anger. Her obnoxious screaming with bloodied teeth compels me to cut more, and I don’t feel the typical calmness after a fevered storm.

She has no more ribs for me to break, so I knock the detached rib-cage and sternum away to go after her useless organs. The plate clatters and spins like a food tray.

“Please, stop. Make it stop,” Alina begs, red-rimmed eyes blinking pleadingly. “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring you?” I laugh, the pain growing roots in my veins as I squeeze the handles to snap another rib.

I love her too much to traumatize her, but this is an inevitable moment. It was naïve of me to think I could live happily with her while running my business; in theory, it sounds easy to separate them. Plenty of people keep their personal lives from work. There is a saying: don’t bring work back home.

“I’m the one to say it,” I sneer vehemently, and the crisp bone-snapping doesn’t quell the roiling in my stomach.

I tip my head and stare into her terrified eyes. “I’m scared to lose you. I didn’t want you to see this, to know what I do. We were going so well—don’t look at me like that, pretty.”

“This is me,” I say, breaking the thick silence. “This has always been me.”

A purring drawl carves inside my head, suggesting sturdy chains around her delicate wrists and training her to be my obedient little wife. I swallow hard at the tightening in my throat, fury harmonizing with the idea by scorching the hesitation in my blood.

The muscle above my heart twitches from how hard it beats. My eyes fall to her neck, imagining a hazy-shaped collar around it. She looks beautiful.

I drop the heavy tool and step over the dead body. Alina scrambles back, hitting the glass with a frenzied shake of her head. She lifts her knees as a barrier, whispering mercy under her breath.

“I’m sorry.”

I don’t know who said it first, her insistent apologies flying through her pale lips or me apologizing for taking my anger out on her.

I was very hurt by her words. All is forgiven when I killed Holt, and all will be forgotten when we restart everything.

I always believe in new beginnings. We’ll buy a new home, find better date spots, keep to ourselves, and live a peaceful life.

“You would be in her place if I didn’t love you.” I click my tongue, stroking the trembling muscle on her jaw.

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