Page 62 of Chalk Outline
I don’t think he’s lying this time.
“Jason, stop!” I run to him, placing myself between the two. “He’s barely conscious and clearly on something.”
“He wants you dead.” Jason’s words come out harsh and resonant. “End his life, or I will. Go back to your tower or stay out of my way.”
With the mask still covering half his face, his unhinged look still encounters me. His eyes are dark and remorseless. I can almost taste his venom on the tip of my tongue.
I suppress my shock and wrap my fingers around the handle of the knife in his hand. With a quick nod, I pull it out.
My fingers brush against the handle, feeling a carving on it.
“Fine. He came here looking for my blood. He wants to cut me. Break me. Strip me of my body.I will kill him.”
His chest rises and falls quickly as he steps back.
I have spent too much time building fences around myself. I know my husband won’t appear magically, which still hurts, but I need to find my voice again, grab it with both hands, and shout it to the world.
Maybe this is the new me.
The one who takes action instead of being behind a screen, trying to help people, I can’t. That’s one of the reasons I left my former job.
I turn around to face my attacker. That voice rings in my ear again.
“Winona, I will do anything to protect you.”
“So am I,” I murmur.
“Go on, Winnie,” he says in a weak voice. “Kill me for the useless shit you call a husband. Don’t you want to move on and be with someone who will love you forever? That’s all I wanted to do.I ambetter than him.”
I climb on top of him.
“Yes, ride me. Let’s get this party started.”
His words dissolve as I plunge the knife into his eye, tearing a hole through the fabric covering it. Blood flows through it as I yank it back.
He shrinks in pain and screams, “fuck,” before the blade of the knife in my hand slashes his throat. I channel all the anger flowing through my veins, allowing my hand to cut deep just as my husband taught me.
Gargling sounds envelop me, and I inhale each one in.
It’s not enough.
I stab him again and again and again.
In the throat. In the chest. In the abdomen.
You deserve to die, and I deserve to live.
You deserve to die, and I deserve to live.
He deserves tolive, and you deserve todie.
Die.
Fucking die.
You are not going to kill me.
You’re dead.
