Page 57 of Resist Me Not
This will get us nowhere but I can tell he won’t willingly let this drop. “If you insist. Early on, before I had settled into my more practiced routine, a homeless man discovered me while I was cleaning up a body I had killed in an alley. The second was a victim’s business partner, who showed up unexpectedly after I’d finished bagging the body. She wasn’tasterrible as her partner but not squeaky clean either, so I don’t lose sleep over that one.”
I don’t lose sleep over any of them, because again, I did what I had to do.
“The third was a police officer who had put too much together and confronted me—without backup. His poor decision. That was in a very distant city from this one. The fourth… “I hesitate this time because I know Walker is not going to like hearing about the last one.
“Thefourth?” he prompts impatiently.
I hold his gaze. “It was someone I was seeing. Dating. Afewdates. A few trysts over a handful of weeks. It was during one of my overseas assignments, so I was in her city longer than I usually stay in one place. I foolishly let my guard down around her, and she followed me one night, much like you followed me to Saks. She thought I was cheating but instead found me repeatedly stabbing a man who had killed three of his wives and was onto his fourth.
“She screamed. She wouldn’t listen to reason, wouldn’t listen tome, so I had no choice but to silence her.”
I see the panic attack about to descend on Walker and try again to reach for him.
He lurches off the bed with a gasp. “I… I-I can’t—” But his knees fail him and down he goes.
I am off the bed and at his side in moments, easing him to rest more comfortably against the side of the bed with his legsoutstretched. I keep any touch on him steady and soothing, a grounding hand on his shoulder, the other tucked behind his back, rotating with little circles, and then soothing up and down his spine.
I just tell him to breathe, that it’s okay, everything will be okay, in as soothing of a voice as I can. But he’s crying, so much more than he has in my presence before now, like the need to sob had been building the entire time I was away. He’s scared but conflicted, and all I want to do is help.
“Please believe me, Walker,” I say, moving the hand from his shoulder to gently press it over his heart. Walker brings both of his hands up to cover it, keeping it there. A good sign. “Everything will be okay. I would never hurt you.”
He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut while tears continue to leak from them. “H-how can you be sure… it won’t ever be necessary to silence me too?”
“Because I was going to kill you but I didn’t.”
His eyes snap open. “…what?”
I press my other hand over his. “When you were on your way to the police station that first time, I had no way of knowing whether your intent was to turn me in. I resolved myself to kill you, but I couldn’t. Do you understand how monumental that was for me?”
Walker’s breathing picks up again. “You thinknotkilling me is some sort of sweet nothing?”
“It is. Despite sparing you going against all common sense, all self-preservation, and every instinct in me, I couldn’t bear the thought of harming you, even if it might mean my life was over.”
The admission calms him like I hoped, his breaths evening again, and he takes a few slow inhales and exhales before responding. “You were going to kill me even though you didn’t know for sure if I was turning you in?”
“Yes but—”
“And what if I do? What if I still do? What if I can’t take this anymore one day and just blurt it all out and betray you?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, “but I do not believe anything could change this feeling you stir in me. I did not feel it for the lover I killed. I have only ever felt something close to this for one other person in my life.”
“Who?”
“My mother. Not thesamefeeling of course, not exactly, but as much as she protected and cared for me, I now get to protect and care for her. I want that. I feel called to that. And I feel the same urge to protect and care for you, my good,goodboy.” I pull my hands from beneath and atop his to gently take hold of his face and brush away the remaining tears starting to leave his cheeks sticky.
He reaches to reconnect with me, not to pry my hands away but to rest his over them. He isn’t actively crying anymore. He isn’t gasping for air or having trouble focusing on my face. He is with me, steady and centered, much as some conflict lingers in his eyes.
“Do you feel better now?” I ask.
“Y-yeah. A little.”
“Would you like for me to go?”
Walker’s hands over mine press more firmly, telling me his answer even before he shakes his head.
“If I am to stay, would you like for me to carry you back onto the bed?”
He sniffles, laughing a little like his opposing thoughts aren’t sure whether he should feel mirth or misery. But he nods, and even though he is still a bit breathless, cheeks flush, and eyes watery, he doesn’t flinch from my hold when I help him up and scoop him into my arms to lay him on the bed.
