Page 34 of Dead Love
Therewaspassion inside of her. And that made her interesting.
I closed the basement door, reminding myself that I couldn’t burn her yet. Not mentally, emotionally, nor physically. She had so much more that I wanted to take, that I wanted to ruin. To show her what it meant to be alive.
To destroy her like that would take time.
The next day, I took a pair of scissors down to the basement. The room reeked like melted plastic. Her ponytail was frayed at the bottom, blunt like a bush. I handed her the tool, then rested my palm on my gun. A gun could kill a lot faster than a pair of scissors could.
She cut the ends of her hair off quickly. The strands fell to the floor, leaving an uneven cut. I took the scissors back upstairs with me. Neither of us spoke a word.
I drove through Punica, passing Poppies & Wheat. The store was dark, but the plants still filled the window display. Limp stems, the edges browned. Next was the house. The beams were still intact, but the exterior was blackened and weak. What had once been the perfect depiction of a family home was now a shell that could protect nothing. I wet my lips, tilting my head to the side, my body buzzing with power. That sort of conversion always intrigued me. The same materials, and yet, completely different.
I returned to the basement. Kora sat in the corner, underneath the loft, leaning against the wall, the coffee-table book in her lap. It was a book of my photographs.The Wake.She glanced through it, bored.
“You like the photographs?” I asked.
“They’re fine,” she said.
“I have a task for you. Up there.”
“Oh.” Her face stayed dry and she closed the book. “What can I help you with?”
Her words came with the rigid courtesy of a retail worker.
“Come to my studio,” I said.
“Why?”
“I need a model.”And for once I’d rather stare at you in the flesh than imagine you.
She lowered her chin, her leaf-green eyes assessing the situation.
“If you let me call my mother,” she said evenly.
Bold woman. I smirked. “You know I can’t let you do that.”
“I guess I can’t be your model, then.”
I tapped the side of my leg, clenching my jaw. “You think bargaining with me will work?”
She shrugged. “I assumed you could be mature and reasonable. One thing in exchange for another.”
“I could force you into the room,” I growled.
“Then force me.”
Every muscle in my body tightened, but instead of scooping her into my arms and shoving her into the studio, I grabbed her by the throat, her breath quickening as she stared into my eyes.
“We don’t have to do this the hard way,” I said.
“Let me call my mother,” she said. “Or I won’t go.”
I threw my grip around her throat, and she sank back against the wall. I bounded up the stairs. By the time I reached the loft, almost to the door, a shuddering sob raked through Kora’s body, echoing through the room.
Outside of the door, Bernie circled my legs while Ulysses panted beside him. Sarah laid her head down near the door, whining. Once Sarah started, it was a chorus of pleas to let Kora play, because they could tell she was sad.
“Leave it alone,” I said. They didn’t listen, so I raised my voice slightly. “I said,drop it.”
The three of them silenced, and Sarah lifted her head to judge me. Yes, I knew that there was a woman crying in the basement, but that didn’t mean thatIhad to make her feel better. She had done this to herself.
