Page 19 of Killer (Project)

It’s a warning.

“I could destroy you with one flick of my wrist. I could bring your very existence to an end. You should feel very lucky to have even had the chance to breathe the same air as me.” His voice was a growl that caused shivers to ripple across my skin.

“This isn’t how this is going to work.” I was annoyed. I was more than annoyed. I was pissed off. This man, the man I had spent years craving and mourning over, turned out to be an inhumane asshole. I felt nothing for him when he talked this way.

“Oh, but it is, you see, I don’t have to do this. I had more than one option, and the way it’s looking right now, option two sounds much better.”

I bit my own lip stifling the remark I wanted to make. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t allow him to keep treating me this way. His only way of hurting others was through fear, threats, and his words. Violence being his only form of communication.

“I think we’re done for the day…” I murmured getting up from my sitting position. I didn’t even look over to see what Killer would do. There was no reason for me to do so. Yet, as I stood, so did he.

I was taken back as I felt his hand dig into the soft flesh of my shoulder. He leaned into me and began to whisper. “You can’t change me. They have been trying for months to get me to talk, to release my emotions. If you think you can do any better than them, you’re just as naïve.” With every word, I felt his fingers sink deeper and deeper into my flesh. I wanted to scream, to cry out in pain. But I didn’t. I knew it was what he wanted. He wanted to feel my pain, to know I was afraid and cowering because of him.

Instead of doing either of those things, I buried the pain. I forced myself to look straight into his eyes and smile. It was that smile that would crumble him. It would bring him to his knees. He could say all he wanted how this was about the differences between the two of us, but in the end, it wasn’t.

It was about him letting the memories come. He was afraid more than anything. The fear would eat him alive if he allowed it to do so.

With a shove that had me off kilter, he released me and made his way out of the arena like a bat out of hell.

He’s scared.

He’s afraid.

He just wants to be saved.

I told myself those things over and over again. As I walked down the hallway, as I ate my dinner, and as I sat on the bed they had provided me—and when I laid down that night and closed my eyes, it was images of him that haunted me. Memories surfaced and I was unable to push them away.

“Prom is tomorrow.” I tried to sound nonchalant about it, but in reality, I wanted him to go with me. I knew he was sick and that it was risky being around everyone all at once. But I wanted him to be a high school student for once. To be able to dance under the stars, and to be happy.

“Mags, I won’t go. It has nothing to do with you and you know it.” That was my final time asking. If I asked anymore, he would lose it, and when that happened, we could go days without talking. Often he lost his temper. He never hurt me, but I had seen him hurt others. It scared me sometimes while other times it caused a zing to run through me.

“I know.” I pouted. “I just wanted one ordinary night. One day where we could just go and be us.”

“That will never happen…” He sounded like he didn’t care, and it was times like this that I didn’t like. When he was at the point of helplessness. When he was close to breaking.

“You’re a pretender, Diesel. Of course, it will happen. It happens every day. So what? You’re dying. Live for today, live for tomorrow, but never, I mean never try to say it won’t happen. It’s happening right now. You’re breathing and that in itself is normal.” I didn’t want to yell, but I couldn’t hold back my anger.

I heard his deep inhale and exhale, and a shiver ran through me as he stood and walked over from his chair. He stopped right in front of me, his face full of aggression. When his hand came up to the side of my cheek, I shied away. He gripped my chin hard, pulling my face into his.

His breath blew softly across my cheeks. “I’m not a pretender. I’m a realist. Someone who only wants to protect you. Everything I do, Mags, I do for your own good.” His lips pressed against my forehead hard as if he were trying to force his anger out in that one singular gesture.

“Protecting me would be going with me. It would be allowing us to have that one moment. It would be giving yourself a chance to let your guard down. To be free of everything. We could—” I didn’t get to finish my sentence because his hand covered my mouth as he pushed me backward. The air escaped my lungs as I landed with a thud against the brick wall.

“If she comes tomorrow, I say we run her out of there in tears.” I could hear one voice say but couldn’t place who was saying it. Diesel moved us, pushing us further into the dark corner of the art room.

“I not only say that, but we rip her dress and get a little action. I have wanted to see her goods since freshman year.” I knew that voice. I gasped against Diesel’s hand in astonishment. Even in the darkness, I could see the ‘I told you so’ look marring his face.

“I agree. Her tits are huge… Makes me wonder if they’re even real,” the other voice said as they moved over to the art supply room. I desperately wanted to speak out against them. To tell them just how wrong all the things they were saying and planning on doing were.

“Wherever Mrs. Jane said the supplies were, she was wrong. I can’t find fucking shit in here,” Roger said, wandering out of the supply room and back over to the table where Diesel and I had been sitting. He stared at it for a long time before glancing around the room. I knew he couldn’t see us in the corner where there was no light. There was no way, yet with his prying eyes on us, I felt anything but safe.

“Is it me or does it look like someone was here?” Roger mocked, looking around the room again as if at any point in time someone would jump out and get him.

His friend, who I was finally able to see, was no other than Monty James. He plucked the paper Diesel had been working on right off the table.

“Name on the top says Diesel,” Monty said to Roger before crumbling the piece of paper up. I shook in fear. I know it was wrong to be scared, to not stand up to them, but there was nothing that could be done.

“I’m going to go out there and get them to leave. Stay here, please.” Diesel’s voice pleaded with me as he whispered before pulling away from me. The warmth left my body as I watched him step away and into the light.

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