Page 45 of Bad for You

I’m afraid that I will no longer recognize the girl who saved me when she didn’t have to—she saved me in so many ways.

She bargained for my freedom like we were a package deal.

No one has ever given a shit about me my entire life, no one but her and Lewis. That is why I need to save them both.

I might be too late for Lewis, but I’m not too late for her.

“You’re such a fucking hero,” I mock, bending low and getting in her face. “Killing a man and pretending you don’t care.”

“I don’t care!”

“Life means so little to you, does it?”

“Yes, I don’t care! I don’t care about anything. I don’t care about you! I don’t care about that fucking man! I don’t care about anyone! I don’t care because I feel nothing. Feelings do nothing but hurt. And I’m sick of hurting! I’ve been hurting my entire life!”

“Boo-fucking-hoo!” I scream inches from her face. “Get over it. That excuse doesn’t stick. It makes you sound like a whiny little bitch.”

Her eyes widen, and she tries to grab me, but I dodge her.

“I hate you!”

“Good.”

“You’ve not spoken to me for years because you’re upset I kicked your ass? Who’s the whiny little bitch?”

“Oh, please. I have better things to do than waste my time on some immature little girl.”

“I wasn’t a little girl when I slit that man’s throat,” she says with pride.

And that’s what I need to flush from her mind.

I need her to feel. Not switch off. I need her to hold on to her humanity before she is lost to me forever.

“It was survival of the fittest. He lost, and I won. I don’t care if I live or die. All I care about is getting my revenge!”

That arrogance will get her killed. One day, she will underestimate the wrong person, and they will say the same thing to her as they end her life.

“Let’s test that theory out, then.”

She opens her mouth, about to curse me out, but I shove her head back down into the water.

I hold her down for ten seconds.

Then let her back up for five before forcing her back under.

I hold her down for fifteen seconds.

Then let her back up for ten and so forth until she is dunked under the water more than out of it.

The fight in her never dies, however. Her spirit is strong, just as I knew it would be.

I count down from ten, and when I reach one, I yank her out.

She gasps for air, her mouth like a fish out of water, and I hope she remembers this if she ever gambles with her life.

“Don’t care whether you live or die?” I taunt, finally letting her go. “Think of this moment whenever you fool yourself into thinking that is true.”

She doesn’t attempt to rise as she catches her breath.

---