Page 30 of Slashed

The pressure I’ve been holding back for the past few days returns with the strength of a hurricane, trapping my chest with its weight and clogging my throat. My organs crumble and I shake once again, struggling to keep my grip steady on his wound.

Softly, his fingers cover mine over his biceps, gentle and caring. I cannot understand how he can be so comforting to me and lethal to the world. The hand he’s using to give me solace is the same one he used to murder four people. Blood will forever stain his touch, yet against all logic, I find peace in it.

I close my eyes, anchoring my wild emotions to the tranquility evoked by his palm. Exhaling the fear wreaking havoc in my system, I compose myself enough to answer, “I don’t know.”

“Have I done something to scare you? I meanyou, not who I’ve killed.”

Wetting my lips with the tip of my tongue, I ponder his question.

It’s hard to respond because the experience from Slashed is distorted in my brain. I can’t quite separate the act from reality. I don’t know where the line was drawn. When he chased after me, was he doing it with an ulterior motive, or was he following my game?

“It’s complicated.”

“Explain it. I want to know what caused you to be so terrified of me.”

A watery chuckle emerges from the back of my throat.

“I—I don’t understand why you let me live,” I confess, looking down to hide the tears burning in my eyes. There’s no need for me to shy away when the darkness of the room protects me, but I don’t want my weakness to show. “It scares me because it means I did something that caused you to change your mind about taking my life.”

“Sadie…”

“It’s stupid,” I cut him off, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter how I feel.”

“Of course, it matters.” He brushes his thumb over the back of my hand, drawing invisible patterns on the skin. “You’re mine, remember?”

My heart skips a beat at his words, and I hate myself a bit more for the way it flutters. With every minute that passes, I lose another chunk of my morals.

“What did I do?”

His sigh is loud and long.

“I don’t kill women,” he states. “Never have and never will.”

“Is that all?”

He turns his head away from me.

“No,” he mumbles, but stays silent for a brief instance. “I wish I had a better answer for you, Sadie. I didn’t go to Slashed intending to meet you. Actually, you were a plot twist I never saw coming, and I almost forgot my plans the second I noticed you standing with your friends.”

“Why me?”

“I don’t know,” he confesses in a soft, raspy voice. “For so long, I’ve been numb, unable to feel anything but rage and anguish. My world had stopped spinning ages ago. I went to Slashed hoping to die at the end of the night, to be set free from the misery dragging me down. Then, I saw you, and I felt for the first time in years. The world started moving again.” Slowly, he abandons my hand to lead it to my body, brushing the tips of his fingers along the naked skin of my arms. His caresses continue until they reach my face, where he dries the tears rolling down my cheeks. “Tell me you don’t feel the same connection, and I’ll disappear from your life. It’ll be like we never met. In the future, I’ll be nothing but a faded nightmare to you.”

The knot in my throat tightens.

“And what about you? What will happen if I ask you to leave?” I wonder out loud.

“The world will stop spinning again.”

My heart thumps faster, wanting to run away from the heavy meaning of his confession.

“I’m not special enough to end your world. I was just a girl at the wrong place and time.”

He drops his hand, letting it fall over his lap.

“Is that what you believe? Darling, you do not realize how unique and incredible you are. I don’t know many girls who would confront a cold-blooded killer with a knife.”

I hold back a wave of laughter.

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