Page 68 of Razors & Ruin
My Mr. T is going to Johanna, wherever she may be, and no matter the outcome, I have lost him.
The man I love is leaving me. The light is going out of my life. What does it matter whether I survive it? To be dead or alive in a world without Sweeney will feel much the same.
“I did,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, my love. Please believe me.”
He growls deep in his chest, his breath rasping against my cheek. His free hand rises, and for a brief moment, I wonder if he’ll strike me. Instead, his fingers close above the other hand, wrapping me in a double chokehold.
He’s holding back—I know he is—but his grip is firm, and I can feel the weight of his indecision in the trembling of his arms.
“I believe you’re sorry,” he says. “And when I think about it, I should have expected no less from you, my pet. Practical and appropriate, as always.”
His tone is calm, too calm, and it terrifies me. Even as his fingers tense slightly, I’m not sure if this is the end or another game.
“I did it because I love you,” I say, my voice straining as his hands press harder against my windpipe. “You know I do. It was always you, forever, before you ever walked into my shop. How could you chase ghosts when I’ve always been devoted to you, just as you are?”
His face grows blurry, and the pain behind my eyes forces them shut. In a detached way, I recall Beatrix’s bloodshot look immediately after I throttled her, and I realize the sensation is that of my capillaries bursting.
“You’re a clever girl, treacle.” Sweeney’s voice comes to me from miles away, soothing, easing the way. “I’m no match for you.”
A final thought, strangled at the edge of my consciousness, makes a break for my lips.
“I’m youronlymatch, Sweeney.” I force my eyes open a fraction so I can see him one more time before the darkness takes me. “The perfect one.”
A white-hot burst of agony powers through my chest, and the room floods with light.
Where am I going? Surely not to heaven unless God intends to give me the bollocking I deserve before He sends me down.
Goodbye, my love. It was all worth it.
Then I feel Sweeney’s mouth, and he releases his grip. I’m as alive as I could want, color and sound assailing my senses as oxygen scourges my burning lungs.
The room snaps back into focus as his lips press against mine, his hands releasing my throat as he pulls me to him. He’s holding me close, his arms supporting my limp body as I drag heaving breaths through my damaged trachea.
“I can’t.”
He cradles me to his chest. “I can’t fucking kill you, Nellie, not when I know you tried all along to save me from myself. But you have reached the end of the line. Nothing you do will prevent this, do you understand?”
I nod, meekly, like a scolded child. My entire body hurts, but the only thing I can focus on is how much more I love him at this moment than ever before.
This man, this instrument of bloody vengeance who kills without regard or conscience, could not—would not—take my life.
With provocation unmatched and deceit beyond forgiveness, he could not watch the light go out in my eyes.
I allow the unfettered words to flow from me.
“Stay with me, Sweeney. Please. Don’t go to her. I’ve said it all along: you and I can have it all. Johanna is dead to you no matter what, and you and I are alive, so alive!”
He cradles my cheek in his palm and kisses me deeply.
There was never a love like ours before in all of time and space. We were meant to live in the dark corners of the world, but we were meant to be theretogether.
God may not claim us, but he does not reach down and smite us. What transpires now belongs only to my man and me.
“I’m going,” he whispers.
The world tilts violently, and panic claws at my chest.
I fight him, kicking and punching, but it’s useless.