If You Dare

“Oh… I didn’t just find them sweetheart.” Simon kicked out, and his te

I was confused, then I understood.

My medicine cabinet. Three or four years’ worth of meds that Dr. Derek kept sending and I kept ignoring. They’d stockpiled, one neat row before another, each new bottle marking the passage of time. Simon found them, thought he hit the drug mother lode, and shoved them all into this cute little backpack. His face seemed to think I’d care. I didn’t.

“Don’t call her sweetheart.” The hard voice came from behind me, from the third party in this room that I’d almost forgotten. I turned to Jeremy. “It’s okay.” I smiled again. My cheeks were begi

CHAPTER 72

Past

JEREMY SHOULD HAVE known. That something was wrong, that something was off. But the whole situation was off. Walking into her apartment, his focus had been on one thing: getting her beautiful body naked and underneath him. Hearing her voice break as he pushed inside to the place that made everything sane disappear. There was nothing in life like the co

He’d been so focused on that goal, the maddening tick of time passing… now only ninety minutes, now eighty-five… now sixty-four… that he hadn’t been aware, hadn’t been prepared. It had pushed at him, that nagging premonition that he always had when he twisted her unlocked knob, when he saw her enter and leave her apartment without hesitation. But by now, that feeling was second nature, easy to ignore, especially when her small hand was in his and she was pulling him forward, his cock already hard in his pants, her giggle a foreplay of things about to happen.

And then… that piece of shit. Standing there like he owned the place. Smiling and taunting her. The woman he knew would have tackled the man. Cut him to shreds with her words. But the woman before him did nothing of the sort. She bent, yielded. Ducked her gorgeous head and pacified. Used soothing words and gestures and asked him nicely to leave. A thousand warnings that he ignored, his heartbeat calming, his step toward Simon accompanied by all of the words he wished Dea

CHAPTER 73

Past

MY SECLUSION HAS led to a lot of obsessions, but knives have always been forefront. My first year, I learned to spin them in my hand. Flip a switchblade out, then in. Out. In. Out. In. I bought a dozen, cut myself fifty times, and eventually got to the point where the knife was an extension of my arm. I could flip out an arm, then return to a pocket a switchblade, pocketknife, and tac blade with my eyes closed. My second year, I danced with guns, a difficult obsession when you’re restricted to an apartment. My third year, I returned to knives, this time with a focus on throwing. I practiced with darts, then moved to knives, then stars. My fourth year, I refined and perfected the skill. My throw at Simon was the first time I took practical application of my skills.

Go figure that I’d miss.

They didn’t understand what the knife was at first, neither of them did. It wasn’t until it pierced the bag, slicing through the clear plastic, the prescription bottle hitting the floor with a loud knock, that they looked at the wall, at the thud that had sounded, plaster giving easy way to the blade, the yellow handle sticking straight out of the wall. Jeremy turned quickly and was still too slow. I stood with my legs slightly spread, one before the other, my hand still outstretched toward the blade. I tilted my head and frowned, my tsk loud and hollow in the room. It’s fu

Dea

Dea

“Dea

Dea

“I’m sorry.”

The words didn’t belong in this space, in this moment, certainly not from my future victim. I heard his whisper and didn’t understand it, didn’t see his arm move, his body twist, wasn’t prepared when my face exploded under the whip of his elbow. I only felt a brief moment of blinding pain, and fell backward, but I never felt the impact with the floor.

CHAPTER 74