Chase

Hate flows.

It’s ebbing out of me like a tsunami, flooding this very room we’re standing in.

But I won’t let it drown us. Won’t let it kill her.

I’ve gone too far. Too deep.

Even though I tried so hard to deny temptation, she’s wormed her way into my heart. And now I have to live with the consequences.

The fear she exudes hurts me beyond my imagination. Beyond anything those men or anyone else could ever do to me.

Like a dagger to the heart, it punctures the very love I feel for her and reveals it for what it truly is … an abomination.

A love which I cannot have, which I do not earn, which I can’t ever crave.

Yet I want her … so badly.

I want her to love me too.

But now that chance is gone forever. Ruined by the fact I lost my temper and went after him … and now I have to face the destruction I caused. Face the sadness that wrecks her… and me when I look at her.

“Do you hate me?” I ask.

When she doesn’t reply, I add, “Say something.”

She just stays there, completely frozen, clinging to the wall.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I growl. “Good or bad.”

“That night … with the bloodied clothes,” she murmurs.

“Yes, I killed someone that night.”

She sucks in a breath and holds it.

It feels good to finally let it out.

“But you already knew that, didn’t you?” I ask, cocking my head.

She nods softly, making me smile and shake my head.

“And still you thought what? That I was redeemable?”

Her face contorts. “I don’t know what to think …”

“I’m the bad guy,” I hiss, leaning forward even more so I can take in her scent. “Someone who enjoys the scent of blood.”

I take a deep sniff, and goose bumps cover her whole body.

“So you’re really a serial killer,” she says in one breath.

I take a strand of her hair and curl it around my finger. She’s so beautiful up close. I can’t ever get used to it.

“You’re not denying it,” she adds, her voice still shaky.

“There’s no point in denying the truth,” I reply.

The air between us is thick with electricity, and each ounce of truth increases the static.

But the more it pours out, the better it feels. I don’t regret admitting it. Not one bit.

We were on this collision course for a long time, and now it’s finally done. My truth is finally out there, and I won’t stop. Not until she tells me to.

“So you just … murder people for no reason?” Her voice is heavy with emotions.

“Because it feels good,” I reply, licking my lips.

“Who do you kill?”

I like how relentless she is in her quest. Even though every word that comes from my mouth makes her that much more desperate. That much more … afraid.

Fear has never been a good thing when it comes to her because it’s a drug to me. And I don’t want to do this to her, but I have no choice now. She was there; she’s witnessed my cruelty firsthand. My bloodthirst is all that’s on her mind right now. And I had it coming. It’s only fair that I finally answer her questions.

“Anyone who gets in your way?” she adds.

“No one who’s innocent,” I say, caressing her cheek with my thumb, but she turns her head away from me. I lower my hand in defeat.

“Why?”

“Because I live to punish those who did wrong.”

“And you’ll stop at nothing? Hurting them isn’t enough … you’ve got to kill them too?”

“I want to erase them off this planet,” I answer.

“What did they ever do to you?” she asks.

“Nothing … or maybe everything,” I reply. “Doesn’t matter.” I grind my teeth and look down at the floor, feeling guilty. Not because of what I do, but because of the judgment in her voice. It cuts into me like a knife.

“What made you this way?” she asks, her hands hugging the wall behind her as if she’s scared she’ll touch me if she doesn’t.

“I don’t know,” I say, sighing. “Blame it on a bad childhood. A mother who left her child with a neglectful parent because she wanted freedom. And a father who overdosed on alcohol after he hit you every fucking day of your life leaves a mark, you know. Invisible. Not on the skin … in here.” I grab her hand and place it on my chest. “After I came out of foster care, I took up everything I could to earn my way through life. Studied hard and worked day and night until I could start my own company. Still, nothing was ever enough for me.”

“So you turned to killing,” she says softly.

“I hated people. Hated what they did to each other. To the world. So when I started punishing them, it felt so goddamn good. I didn’t stop.”

She swallows. “You were hurt.”

I shake my head, laughing. “You still don’t get it, do you?” When she doesn’t respond, I add, “My past didn’t make me who I am. I am who I am because I love it. Because I love the power. Because it feels … so … damn … good. And I’ve never felt better than right after a kill.”

I grip her chin and make her face me. “Except when you came into my life.”

* * *

Syrena

My mouth opens, but no words come out except for a faint wheeze.

“Is that what you wanted?” he asks, gripping my arms. “How does it feel? The truth? Brutal, right? Tell me I’m a monster. Say it!”

I frown and then slam my lips shut, shaking my head.

Even though he wants me to, I can’t.

“Tell me why,” he growls.

“Because …”

Because he still saved me from the men in the forest.

Because he didn’t kill me when he had the chance.

That must mean something … right?

“You have to hate me now,” he says.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because I need to know. So I can … stop falling in love with you.”

Once again, my heart stops beating and my lungs constrict.

I’m completely taken by surprise. And I don’t even know what to say.

All I can do is feel. My heart … slowly losing the wall I’d constructed around it.

“You have to,” he says. “For your sake.”

He’s right. I should hate him. For all the things he did to me. For all the evil he tries to eradicate by committing evil himself. For all the lies and the betrayal.

But I can’t ignore my heart either.

“You have to because I’m just as bad as you thought I was. Because I did something unforgivable to you,” he says.

Does he mean … the day he took me away from Graham?

And then it hits me … the canyon.

He tried to kill me.

“You took me to that canyon that day,” I say.

He takes a step back, which is when I know it’s true.

Everything’s finally clicking into place.

The knife to my throat. Him crying. Taking me to his home. Locking me up. Him being so distant. He himself didn’t even know what he wanted.

“You tried to kill me,” I say. “And then you didn’t. But you really did intend to, didn’t you?”

He takes another step back while I brace myself against the wall.

“Yes.”

The answer is finite.

No denial. No deviations.

This is the one single truth.

I should’ve realized it all along.

He never wanted me alive.

“Why?” Tears well up in my eyes.

“Because I knew I was just as evil as the people I killed. I needed to know if I could do what they did … if I could even take an innocent life …”

“So you chose me?” I say through gritted teeth.

“You were as innocent as can be,” he says.

My blood is boiling right now. “I was an experiment?”

“To a certain extent … yes.”

I move across the room and grab the nearest sharp thing I can find. A letter opener. He left it on the cabinet. It’s not a knife, but it’ll do. I need something to protect myself … from him.

If he wanted to kill me once, he could try again.

“I won’t hurt you,” he says.

“How can I trust anything you say?” I reply, tears streaming down my face. “You just told me to my face that I was supposed to die that day!”

Just uttering the words make them so much more painful.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” I hiss.

“Yes,” he says. “It’s true.”

My heart shatters into a million pieces.

I knew he attempted it in the canyon … but I never thought he truly meant it. I just thought he was scared, or maybe that I’d done something to anger him.

But none of that was true.

I was just a test to him.

A test to see if he could do it.

If he could become a true monster.

When he tries to approach, I hold up the letter opener like a weapon and say, “Stay back.”

“I did what I did because I needed to know the truth. I expected you to die, yes,” he says, “but you didn’t.”

“That doesn’t change a thing!”

“Yes, it does. Because it made me realize that I wasn’t completely evil. That I still have morals. That I still have something to live for. You.”

“No,” I snap, my hands shaking with rage. “You don’t get to say that. Don’t you try to mess with me.”

“I’m not,” he says. “It’s the truth. When I had you, captured you … I couldn’t kill you. No matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t because of your tears. Because of your face. Because of how badly I wanted to be human for you. You … broke me, Syrena.”

“Shut up,” I hiss, wishing I could turn off my hearing.

I don’t want to hear the words that’ll only unravel me more.

“I took you home because that was all I knew I could do,” he says. “Because I knew I’d fucked up. I never expected it to happen the way it did. And that I’d have you … and didn’t have a clue what to do with you. But the more time I spent with you, the more lost I felt.”

“Don’t,” I hiss. “Don’t you turn me into the bad guy.”

“I never said you were,” he says. “I am. I’m the bad guy for putting my own needs first.” He sinks to his knees. I can hear them hit the floor. “So all this time, while you’ve been here … I’ve been thinking of ways to make things right. To give you everything you need and more. To make your heart happy again. Because I took your innocence away from you, and I can never give that back.”

His voice is faltering, just like mine was. Just like my hands are right now as I try to hold the letter opener steady as I come closer toward him.

“Do it,” he says. “Kill me.”

My body freezes. “What?”

“Kill me like I tried to kill you. Give me what I deserve. Inflict all the pain you want to on me.”

“Why would you say that?” I shout, tasting the salt of my own tears. “Why now?”

“Because I deserve it. Because it makes you happy,” he says. “I have my arms behind my back. I won’t hurt you. I won’t fight. I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

“No,” I hiss. “You can’t do this.”

“Why? This is what you’ve wanted for so long, right? To end your own suffering?”

How can he say that like it doesn’t mean anything to him? As if his own life doesn’t matter?

“You’re not supposed to just surrender and make it easy!”

“But it’s what you want … what you need. And I want to make you happy.”

Happy? I don’t even know what that is anymore.

“How can I be happy if you turn me into a murderer too?” I yell.

He doesn’t reply.

And the longer this silence hangs between us, the more the hatred flows out of me … and the more it leaves sadness behind.

The letter opener drops from my hand.

“How could you do this?” I mutter.

“I just want what’s best for you.”

“But you used me. Used me like some kind of experiment, and when you didn’t get the outcome you thought you would, you just kept it going.”

“And I’ll accept all responsibility for that.”

“No.” I shake my head. “You can’t take the easy way out.” I mull over these last few words because they’re so damn hard to say. But I want them out there. I want them to be real. So I force myself to say it.

“You’ll have the rest of your life to make it up.”

I can hear him move from the floor. “What?”

“You want to stop being evil? Then do the right thing. For once.”

I can hear him shuffle closer, and I don’t stop him. Not even when he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his embrace.

And I cry. I cry harder than I ever have before.

Because this man … this murderer … this monster …

Is the only man I couldn’t ever kill.