Page 38 of Collateral Damage

“Maybe…” She's not wrong… If her father had just let it go, we would most likely have been introduced through them.Although that's a little weird. She would have been my half-sister?Gross.

“I can't forgive you. And I certainly can't change the past. You and your mom both deserved better. But so did I. And I understand now that, that was not your fault.” She sounds like my mother. But that never works on me. I was indoctrinated to harbour my faults. If I'd been a better daughter, none of this would have happened.

“I will never ask for your forgiveness. I simply wanted you to see the truth.” She needed to know of the monster she called her father, just as I did mine.

“Then why did you wait so long?” I won't tell her why. Because it means admitting it to myself.

“Because I was afraid…”Afraid I'd lose her.

“My my… Did the monster finally admit she does have a heart after all?” She's smiling and those dimples are making their own personal indent on my damn heart.

“Don't be too optimistic.” I don't want her to expect me to care, in fear I may disappoint her if shit goes downhill. She is still my hostage after all. I go to stand, ready to walk out and leave her in peace but I'm interrupted.

“Stay… Please.” I guess thinking she needed space was wrong. But I'm certainly not the best company right now. She has a hold on my wrist and I fall into her golden hours lighting up her weary face. I tug at the corner of my mouth, exchanging understanding before crawling in next to her. We've accustomed to sharing a bed with no contact, so I lay on my side and observe her. How she has three perfectly aligned moles on her right shoulder and a tiny white scar grazing her elbow. She shuffles, inching closer to me. Closing the gap between us and I read her signals, gently sliding my right arm beneath her pillow, our frames still not touching but just enough contact to knowI'm here.

C H A P T E R 23

CUT THE ROPE

Puppet

Play - ‘Leaving Tonight - The Neighbourhood’

I’ve slept on the idea and maybe I'm not in the right headspace but all I want to do right now isrun. How do you run away from a nightmare that you can't wake up from? I turn slowly to face her and she's actually sleeping?That's a first.But instead of finding comfort in that, all I'm thinking about is getting out. I just need to get the hell out of here. Back to normality, back to civilization. I can't handle this paradox, it's suffocating me. My father killed someone and he hid that from me, from everyone. My entire life has been one big lie. No amount of sleep will ever change that and now he's no longer alive for me to confront him. All this time I thought he was caring for me when in reality he was scared I'd find out the truth. Findher. Or she'd find me.

I don't know what I'm doing but I'll figure that out later. I inch slowly, keeping my muscles as still as possible as I detach from the bed and she doesn't wake. This is so unusual of her, she never sleeps?

Heat warms my body, lathering the back of my neck as I tiptoe lightly against the wooden floor in fear that I'll wake her.Where would she hide the keys?She's gotten too comfortable.I pickpocket her jacket hanging off the back of the dining room chair and delicately pull keys out, careful not to jingle them. There are at least ten keys on here.Fuck sake.

I dig some more for anything that may possibly help me and my eyes almost burst as I pull a firearm from her pocket. I guess I'm going to need this if she realises I'm gone. Grit rolls down my throat, creeping as slyly as my feet will allow to the front door. I start trying each key.Come on. It has to be one of them. I'm running out of time and patience, shaking as I handle them, checking over my shoulder like a paranoid schizophrenic.Finally, a key turns and I gape with optimism. I don't even have shoes on.This is crazy. I pull the door towards me scrunching my face as it creeks, echoing through the house and a sudden wave of guilt washes over me that's soon interrupted and swallowed back down when the door slams shut nearly trapping my fingers inside.

“OuchPuppet…” My heart stills, her tone so dangerous it immediately makes my eyes litter with water as she rubs her paint into my neck. “Just when I thought me and you were finally getting somewhere.” My hands tighten around the gun, squeezing it as my shoulders stiffen, being pushed against the door like the force of water as her fever etches into my back.“And after I confided in you…” her thumb caresses my cheek, wiping away at my guilt, like she's aiding my betrayal.

“Let me go Hays… Please…” I can feel every muscle lining her torso and I forget how big she actually is. How dangerous she really is, how much blood she has on her hands. I'm meddling with the Devil but something is telling me to keep prodding.

“Now why would I do that?…” Her voice leaves me breathless as I turn to face her, peering up at her blurry face, searching the pits of hell before me and my nerves are spiking my fire.

“I will shoot you.” There is no confidence behind my threat. I've never threatened anyone, but I also never thoughtI'd be chest to chest with a convicted murderer.She finds this laughable, shrieking at my empty threat like a psychopath. Logistically, I know I wouldn't be able to pull this trigger.“Let me OUT!” My grip tightens, indenting the metal into my frail fingers.

…

“Do you know the quickest point on a human's body for collateral impact?” Silence etches itself inside the cracks of unspoken words, but I already know my face is giving away the answer as I struggle to let any words slip out. I choke on the evaporating air seeping from my lungs as she rests her temple against the barrel of the gun.“Judging by the look on your face. I’d take that as a no. So it’s a good job I do. Because that's the last thing I want.” I stare intensely at her, trying to understand what on earth she is trying to say.She doesn’t want a quick death?

“If I were you. I’d go for my heart.”

She whispers so calmly every nerve ending in my body is trying to burst out my skin.

“And don’t miss.”

My grip tightens along with every muscle in my body. She says it as if, if I were to mess this up, I’d suffer for it.

“I want it messy. I want you to watch me bleed out slowly.Innocence. I want it to hurt.”

I can see this death within her dead gaze locked on mine like I’m the key she’s been searching for.She wants to suffer.“I want to watch the guilt seep out of your pretty little eyes as you realise how foolish you are. Can you handle that,Puppet?” She wants us both to suffer. She wants to show me she was right, that killing her will solve nothing but riddle me with guilt she now carries. That removingMy Nightmarewill only create more sufferable sleepless nights.“If you’re going to do it. Do it properly.” Properly to her is inhumane? Which only peaks me to wonder why she gave my parents such a humane end.

“If you really want out,Little Dreamer. It's simple… Pull the trigger.” She clasps the barrel pressed firmly against her head, tilting it to align with her chest, holding it hostage against her heart.“All it takes is onebigggggsqueeze… And you are free. Free to live your life as you wish. In fact, I urge you to do itAlora. Because if you don't. I will find you, in every village, town, city and I will not stop until we are this close again because you -” I'm sensing raw pain in her vocals and I don’t even think I want her to finish that sentence.

“Are. My.OXYGEN.”

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