Page 59 of Monsters Like Us
For the first time in so long, there’s no hum of a bulb, no scrape of a lock, no cruel eyes waiting to tear us apart. Just the sound of his breathing and the echo of my own heart, learning what safety feels like again.
I shift onto my side, studying him. Even in sleep, he looks fierce—his jaw tight, a muscle twitching like he’s still fighting nightmares. My hand itches to smooth the tension from his face, but I hover just above him, afraid of shattering the fragile calm.
“Katana.” His voice is rough, raspy from sleep, and I freeze. His eyes open—inky black like the night sky, pupils blown wide. For a heartbeat, I expect the monster. But all I see is him.
“You’re awake,” I whisper.
His gaze flicks over me, lingering on the bandages covering the marks along my wrists, the faint bruise along my collarbone, and something breaks across his face. Guilt. Fury. Love.
“Do you regret it?” I ask before I can stop myself. My voice trembles. “Us. What we did.”
He doesn’t hesitate. His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth where my lip is still bitten raw. “Never,” he rasps. “You’re the only thing I’ll never regret.”
The words land heavy and certain, threading through every crack inside me. I lean into his palm, letting myself believe.
We move slowly, almost shy in the light of morning, sharing the stolen fruit and bread from Vale’s kitchen, eating protein bars, and drinking from the same tin cup of water. Our shoulders brush as though we’re afraid of being apart, unableto touch. His fingers find mine on the rough wooden table, long and scarred, twining tight.
I look down at our joined hands, and for the first time since Holloway, I feel whole.
We’re not healed. We’re not clean.
But we’re alive and together.
Monsters who found each other in the dark.
And maybe that’s enough.
Micah’s handtightens on mine. His jaw works, like words are fighting their way out. Finally, his voice comes out low and rough, “There’s something I haven’t told you.”
I look up, my heart clenching. He’s never offered me more than pieces, never trusted the walls not to listen. But now, in the quiet cabin, I see it in his eyes—he wants me to know.
“My parents,” he begins, his voice scraping raw. “They trafficked women and… children. My sister… she was bait. Used to lure men in. And I was supposed to be the same—to draw girls in.” His eyes flash, twin black flames burning.
I swallow hard, my throat thick, but I don’t let go of his hand.
“My sister was… training me. Her methods were… unusual. Twisted. I’d had enough and refused. They didn’t like it.”
I don’t say anything. Just intently watch him, waiting with bated breath, horror chilling me to my bones.
“They decided to kill me. I heard them planning it. Halloween night.” His mouth twists, a memory carved deep. “So I struck first. I didn’t wait to die. I made sure they did.”
The silence that follows is thick and alive. His eyes search mine, waiting for horror, for fear, for the recoil.
Instead, I squeeze his hand tighter. “Give me all the gory details.”
He blinks, startled, but he gives them to me anyway. He tells me in gory detail what he did. How it felt when the knife cut into his sister’s flesh. The feel of it cutting into his parents’ skin, carving deep.
“They branded you a monster for surviving,” I whisper. “But you’re mine. My monster. And I’m not afraid.”
For a long beat, he stares at me.
Then his voice, shredded but steady, echoes off the cabin walls.
“I will destroy anyone who tries to hurt you. I’ll protect you. Always.”
My thumb rubs the back of his hand, too overcome for words.
His black eyes soften. “I’m yours. All of me.”
