Page 174 of Perfect
He’s taken so much from her. He ruined her life, then he took it, and he’s stillfucking taking from her.
I’m going to enjoy taking everything from him.
I tighten my grip on the knife and hang on to the last threads of my fading control as I approach him from behind. I just need to get a little closer, and then I’m going to rip this motherfucker’s guts out.
“Stupid - fucking - dead - bitch,” he says, punctuating each word with a thrust. He hauls off and slaps her, and her head falls to the side with no resistance.
There’s no control after that.
By the time hears me, I’m already shoving the knife deep into his side, twisting it as much as I can. He starts to scream, and I rip the knife out and pull him off her, throwing him back intothe wall and stabbing whatever I can reach. He yells in pain, blocking me and hitting me hard as he tries to fight me off. I register the impact of his fists and feel something snap in my side, but I can’t feel any pain, so I keep stabbing him.
He’s slightly taller than I am, larger and definitely stronger, but none of that matters.
He has something to lose. I don’t.
He’s trying to grab me, but he’s getting weaker, and his hands are slick with blood, so he can’t get a good grip. His blood is getting on my hands, and the knife almost slips from my grasp at one point as he blocks my stab. The momentary distraction of me regripping the knife gives him an opening to punch me in the face, and my nose breaks as my head snaps back. Danny bodychecks me into the bed, scrambling away from me, and I fall onto Alex’s injured leg.
For a fraction of a second, I’m grateful she can’t feel any pain.
I launch off the bed and rush after him as he grabs his gun, but I’ve got the knife lodged in his throat before he can take aim. His eyes go wide, and he starts gasping out these horrible, wet sounds as he falls to the floor. I follow him down and rip the knife out of his throat right before I feel the impact of something tearing through my left shoulder and my left side.
Oh,right.
The gun.
I drop the knife and wrench the gun out of his hand and shoot him until it’s empty, then I bring the butt of the gun down on his ugly fucking face. I smash the gun into his face twice more, then throw it to the ground and grab his head with both hands, picking it up and bashing it into the floor, throwing my whole weight into it. My left arm isn’t working that well, so I’m mostly using my right, but he’s not fighting me anymore.
I don’t know when he stops moving, but I can’t stop moving.
I pick up his head and slam it into the floor again and again until it cracks open, and then I keep fucking going. What’s in my hands starts to get less solid and harder to hold, and the pool of blood beneath us keeps getting bigger, but it’s only when a jagged piece of bone slices my palm open that I’m able to stop, and only because it cuts so deeply that my hand becomes hard to use.
I drop what’s left of his head onto the floor, vaguely aware that I’m exhausted and in pain, but it doesn’t matter.
Nothing matters.
As I stare down at what used to be Danny, the buzzing inside my skull starts to fade as the reality of the situation sets in.
Alex is gone. She’s just…dead. I can’t fucking fix that.
A black hole opens in my stomach and my fury is replaced with despair. It’s my fault she’s dead. I fucked up and got here too late. I didn’t do enough to care of her, toprotecther, and she got fucking tortured to death because of it. This is all my fault. I failed her.
I struggle to my feet, looking down at Danny’s annihilated face.
At least I didthatright.
I close my eyes and take a shaking breath. I don’t want to look at Alex and see how badly I let her get hurt, but I can’t leave her on the bed like this, tied up and fucking abused. She’s mine and I still need to take care of her, even if she’s not there anymore.
I force myself to look at her, and my body involuntarily convulses in horror. Alex’s body is limp on the bed, her head turned towards me, her wide eyes looking towards Danny’s corpse.
I’m feeling some of the pain now, and it’s excruciating, but it’s nothing compared to this.
I don’t want this to be the way I remember her. I want to remember the way she looked at me this weekend, how she looked when she felt happy and loved and cared for. That’s what she deserved, notthis.I reach for her slowly, hatingthat Danny’s blood is even touching her as I gently turn her face up towards me and brush the hair away from her eyes.
I can feel the faintest hum of connection between us, but I know it’s just my brain playing tricks on me because I don’t want to accept that she’s gone.
“Sweetheart, please wake up,” I beg softly. I shake her shoulder gently, but there’s no response at all. This can’t be fucking happening. Alex has always beensucha liar, so maybe this is just another lie she’s telling. I press my fingers to her neck gently, and I sob when I don’t feel anything.
Why can’tthisbe a fucking delusion?
