His

Was he leading me to the kitchen? Was he going to hurt me? Had he decided, after all this, to kill me?

 

Before, he had put a hand on me to guide me. Now, he walked down the stairs. I paused at the statue before following him down the steps.

 

“Come on,” he said, calling up to me. “Don’t be afraid.”

 

Those words chilled me. I came down the stairs slowly and followed him across the living room, down the hallway to the front door. He opened the door.

 

“Go on,” he said.

 

I stepped past him with my breath held. When I was in front of him, he could stab me from behind. He could slit my throat. He could—

 

“Kat.”

 

I turned around to see him standing in the doorway, his knife hanging limply from one hand.

 

“Gavriel?”

 

“I’m sorry, kitten.” His eyes were sad, so sad. It was all I could do not to run back to him, to take him in my arms, to comfort him. “Go on, now.”

 

“What…” my voice trailed off as I realized that he wasn’t following me out onto the porch. “What are you doing?”

 

“I’m letting you go.”

 

The words buzzed around my ears, but I didn’t comprehend what he was saying.

 

“For a walk?”

 

“Forever. You’re free.”

 

“Wh—Why?” I stammered. Every muscle in my body felt like it was made of lead. I stood on the porch, dumbfounded. I was still convinced that if I turned around, he would raise the knife, fling it forward into my back.

 

“You’re right,” he said, gesturing outside with an expansive wave of the knife. “This. All this. It doesn’t matter. It’s not real. I can’t take your life away from you.”

 

You’ve given me back my life, I wanted to say. You’ve given me the only reason to live. But my voice caught in my throat. Stupid, stupid. I should have turned to run before he could change his mind. Something told me that he wouldn’t change his mind.

 

It’s not real, he had said. What I had thought was something between us was nothing. And now he had pulled the rug out from under my feet. I had just accepted my fate, and now he was handing me another one. As ridiculous as it felt, I wanted nothing more than to run back inside, to stay with him.

 

“You’re really letting me go?” I croaked.

 

“Yes. Stupid, I know. Maybe I am a stupid person, after all.”

 

“That’s not it.” Why was I still there? Why was I not running away right now?

 

“It’s because I’m bored, kitten,” he said. His fingers tightened around the blade. “Bored with all of this. You have to go now.”

 

He opened his mouth to say something else, then closed it. Stepping forward, he reached up and cupped my cheek in his hand. His palm was hot against my skin.

 

Don’t do this, I cried inside. Keep me. Want me. I need you to want me.

 

But I said nothing.

 

He bent his head and brushed his lips against mine. The kiss was so light, and yet I felt electricity arc through my nerves at the barest touch.

 

I wanted him to stab me with the knife he held. I wanted to die in that moment, wanting something that I could never have. But he didn’t raise the knife at all. I believe he had forgotten it was there.

 

“Goodbye, kitten.”

 

“Goodbye.”

 

He stepped back and closed the door behind him. I could hear the snap of the lock.

 

I stood on the porch for another moment, my body shaking, unsure what it was that had just happened. Then I turned and began to walk down the driveway, the sun shining brightly overhead.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

 

Gav

 

The world closed in on me as the door swung shut behind her. Closed in - the walls disappeared into black. My body went numb.

 

She was gone.

 

Everything I’d worked to keep secret was out, the walls were broken. In my mind, I saw her running out to the road, sticking out her thumb. Catching a ride to the police station. They would come, they would knock down the door. What would they find?

 

As if underwater, I went to the bedroom. Pulled the arm chair around to the foot of the bed. Untied the rope from the bedposts.

 

The rope, useless. I would never tie her up again. Useless, useless, except for one thing. My hands moved automatically, looped the rope around itself. The knot tied itself, it seemed, and before I knew it the noose was finished, hanging limply from my hand.

 

Still in the bedroom, the rope slung over the high rafter, scraped the wood as I pulled it tight. Tied snug against the foot of the bed. The chair under my feet held steady, although my hands shook.

 

Me? I felt nothing. It wasn’t me who took the noose and draped it around my neck. Not my hands which tightened the knot fast. The rope scratched the skin at my collarbone, but the sensation came from a distance, not from my own nerve endings. I was watching myself commit suicide.

 

Before, in the tub, I’d held the knife to my skin and recoiled. Now, though, there was nothing for me to recoil from. Just an empty room.

 

I took my last breath and stepped forward into nothing.

 

 

 

Kat

 

At the end of the driveway, I caught the motion sensor. The iron gate rattled open in front of me. I stared out at the curving road.