Page 13 of The Heart of Midnight

Did he want to touch me again? Did he want to run his hands along my body and own me right here in the bathtub? Guess I’ll never know.

I take my time cleaning off as he does whatever the hell he’s doing in my kitchen, wondering if at any point I’ll be able to see more of him on any of my camera feeds, but that curiosity has to wait until the sun rises.

Once I’m dry, I tie my hair up in a messy bun and change my sheets, biting my lip when I remember how hard he made me come and how messy squirting actually is. It’s pretty inconvenient, but the rush of euphoria is fucking worth it. Just the memory has my legs clenching together and my swollen clit throbbing, but I don’t do anything about it. Instead, I pull on a silk robe and take my dirty bedding to the laundry room, then make my way toward the kitchen to watch him as he finishes up. “Is that a grilled cheese sandwich?”

Why it makes me giggle I’ll never know, but apparently the bubble bath filling psychopath also makes a mean grilled cheese. Who would have thought? It’s kind of adorable.

“It’s all you had. Don’t judge me.”

“I love grilled cheese,” I assure him, unable to fight the wide smile on my face. “You just look... cute with a spatula.”

He flips it again and then plates it for me and slides it over, ignoring me yet again. Getting this guy to open up or take a compliment is impossible.

But I guess I get it. That isn’t what this is. Bubble baths, grilled cheese sandwiches, heart to hearts, that isn’t what he’s after here, and I’m honestly stupid for trying. He doesn’t come through my fucking window to talk, he comes to get off. “Thanks.”

I pick up the plate and make my way back to my bedroom with a fresh cup of water, and once I have food in my stomach, I feel better. I don’t need Midnight to talk to, that’s what Scarcello is for, and I’m pretty damn selfish for trying to get close to both of them.

When he walks back into my room, I’m setting the empty plate aside, still confused with the aftercare he’s giving me. But even if this might be a one-time thing, I’m still grateful it happened at all. “See you soon?”

He’s silent for so long, I wonder if he forgot how to speak. “Yes. If you’re in pain tomorrow, take more ibuprofen. I’m sorry.”

Without another word, he slips back through my bedroom window and out into the night.

Sorry for what? Obliterating my asshole? Raping me in the first place? Leaving me? So many questions, but I guess I’ll never know.

I’m just happy he came to me at all.

Nine

Scar

Waking up, I don’t feel any better than I did last night. I thought I’d feel great since I was finally able to take care of Avery after all the fucking depraved things I did to her, yet all I feel is paranoia. I stayed too fucking long. Keeping up that stupid voice, the stupid stilted walk, and changing the cadence I speak with is exhausting. I had to have slipped at some point. We’re too close as neighbors for her not to get suspicious as it is, and I definitely made it worse.

So, so much worse.

What kind of a fucking rapist stays for aftercare?

The lines are so blurred, I’m not sure which way is up anymore. This girl has ruined me, my M.O., and any chance I ever had at sneaking away unseen. I can’t leave her now, no matter how hot it gets around here. They could find every body I’ve ever buried, heaps of evidence, and a roadmap to my front door and I don’t think I’d be able to leave.

That’s how deep this girl has gotten under my skin.

I’m not sure I care. She’s infuriating in her empathy, even for killers. How could she look at someone like Muerte and think there’s anything left to be saved? I’m always going to be a predator. I’m always going to be a killer. I’m never going to have any regard for human life except for hers. What’s good about that?

Nothing.

Yet she sees past it all, and it’s that part of her I can’t seem to let go of. Reason tells me to kill her and be done with it, but how could I ever be responsible for killing something so... necessary? Without people like Avery, our world crumbles. There’s no lightleft. It’s all darkness, all hatred, selfishness. There would be no one left to balance out the monsters like me who were born broken and raised to be worse.

She’s... precious to me.

But the line I’m walking is thin, and it’s time to do damage control. If she did somehow figure out her midnight visitor is me, I might be able to salvage the situation. But it’ll all be over once she makes the Muerte connection. I won’t have any choice but to kill her if I want to stay out of jail. No matter what promises I made to myself, I have to remember that she’s a liability. Every day I allow her to live compromises me more, and eventually, it’ll come down to her or me.

I’d rather kill us both than go to fucking prison, I’m just not quite there yet. I need to find out what she knows first and figure out how to minimize the damage.

Throwing on a dark grey henley, I shoot her a text to let her know I’m stopping by, then fix my hair and head over to knock on her door.

I’m not sure my heart has ever beat quite this fast. “Avery,” I say with a forced smile as she greets me. “Do you mind if I come in? I wanted to pick your brain about something.”

Ten

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