The darkness receded as I spilled myself inside of her. The world brightened, the shadow gone.
For how long? I didn’t care. What mattered was here, now.
What mattered was her.
She reached up to me and touched my lips. On her face was something like wonder.
“I love you,” she said, and began to cry.
Kat
“I love you.”
The words tumbled from my mouth and I lay there, more surprised that I had said them than surprised that I had felt them. Was it shock that drove me to tears? No, something else. A desperation that had grown inside of me until now, it showed itself.
He didn’t say anything. Instead he stood up, stumbling at the edge of the bed.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I’m sorry? I wanted to reach out to him. Why are you sorry? Tears streamed down my cheeks and I was unable to stop them. I felt completely melted, unraveled. He had torn me apart inside and out, and I wanted him to turn to me, to hold me together. Instead he put his head in his hands.
“Please…” I whispered. “Gav?”
“Why are you crying?” he asked, a hint of frustration in his voice.
I shook my head. Strands of my hair stuck to my cheek, hot and wet as it was with tears.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It was wonderful. Gav—”
“And you’re crying.”
“This isn’t real!” I sobbed.
There. That was it. That was the thing that made me cry right now. He had split open my heart, and I had given it away to an illusion.
The realization shattered me. All around me, the walls spun. He was there, sitting right there. He had touched me, made me feel alive. He had made me feel wanted. He had made me feel loved.
“This isn’t real,” I repeated. Trying to make myself believe what I knew to be the truth. “None of this is real.”
“What isn’t real?” His voice was blank, empty. It made me even angrier. I brought my fists down hard, but against the mattress they didn’t even make a noise. My sobs were hoarse and angry.
“You!”
“I’m not real?”
He turned his head slowly, carefully meeting my gaze.
“You’re a psychopath,” I whispered. “The only guy who’s ever cared about me is a psychopath.”
“Does that make it not real?”
“But you don’t care, not really. You don’t care at all about me. I’m just a pet to you. I’m a prisoner. It’s not real.”
“You think you have it all figured out, kitten.”
“I do.”
“You’re wrong.” His voice lilted upward, as though teasing me. My throat burned.
“Tell me it’s not true, then. Tell me you care about me.”
“What would that serve?”
“It would help me be less lonely.”
He turned, stood, his hands loose at both sides. He was naked, but standing over me I thought he looked for all the world like a warrior at the ready. The only thing missing was a knife in his hand.
“I care about you,” he said.
“I don’t believe you.”
He spread his arms out, palms upward.
“What do you want?”
The air in the room was stale. My whole body rejected it. I curled up on my side, pulling the sheets over my shoulder. I had been so stupid. I had thought that when I reached out to him, he would reach back. But he wasn’t human. He was a monster. And because I loved him, I was a monster, too.
“Nothing. I don’t care.”
“You don’t care? Not even if I leave the house?”
I knew what he was saying. And yet my voice came out monotonous, uncaring. I didn’t know if it was me who was speaking, or someone else.
“If you need to kill someone,” I said, “kill me.”
Gav
I wanted to vomit. I had defiled her, poor girl. I had poisoned her with myself, poisoned her with darkness.
And now she wanted to die.
I pulled my pants back on. Then I took the knife from my drawer. Her eyes didn’t widen, but her pupils dilated as she looked at the blade in my hand.
Did she still think that I could kill her?
“I’m sorry,” I said again. And yes, I was sorry. Guilt wracked me inside, made me sick with dread. She lay there still and naked, tear-streaked. Dirty with my sins. I went to the door.
“No,” she said. “Gavriel.”
“I’m sorry.” The door closed behind me. And the padlock went on the bedroom door.
“No!” she yelled from behind the door. The lock snapped shut with a thick iron clank. Her steps to the door. Her fist pounding.
“No! Gav! No!”
“I’m sorry.” This I said to myself as I walked down the stairs, down again to the basement, down, down.
It was dark on the floor of the basement where I lay down and closed my eyes. The shadow would always be a part of me. I wrapped myself up in shadows and I would not touch anything again. I wouldn’t mar the outside world. Hours passed, hours and hours, and I did not eat, did not drink. I did not deserve release. I’d lied to myself about what I did. The men I killed were monsters, but I was worse than any of them.
I did not deserve anything but darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Kat