Page 163 of Into the Dark

When I force open my eyes the tears spill out from them, hot and worthless, down into my hair. He tilts his head to the side and studies me, and I notice for the first time that he’s chewing something. It adds to the display of maniacal fun he seems to be having, as if this is some hobby he enjoys. His eyes look black. Have they always been so black? Like a demon. I can’t remember. The marks of Jake’s attack are still evident on his face: his nose swollen, a stitched slit about an inch long on his left cheek, a dark, purplish ring around his left eye, swelling on his jaw. I wonder what further damage his clothes hide. Where is he weakest? He must have some broken ribs. Where could I hurt him? One well-placed hit could do it.

“You could have stopped all this, you know,” he says softly—startlingly softly. “He was gonna kill me—you know that, right? But you stopped him, saved my life really. S’pose that’s your job. Funny, innit?” Hilarious. He lowers his head to my ear as if someone might hear what he’s about to say. “Do you wish you’d let him now, Alex?”

I’m not sure what possesses me to speak, to answer him honestly. “No. I don’t.” Because then I’d have watched Jake kill someone. And though I always say he can’t lose me again, I’m not sure what that might have done to us. Witnessing that.

Kevin looks surprised by my answer, mouth twitching.

“I’m not a monster like you. And neither is he.”

He smiles a wolfish smile at me and shakes his head. “You poor fucking bitch. He really did a fucking job on you, didn’t he?” He leans up, snorting a loud half-laugh. “You’ve known him five fucking minutes, sweetheart. I’ve known him fifteen years. Let’s not kid ourselves you have any clue who he is, yeah?”

“I know him. I know that he’s a world away from you.”

Kevin’s eyes flicker darkly, nostrils flaring with the insult. “See, the thing you don’t know about Jay is, Alex, he’s always been very fucking good at pretending he’s something he ain’t. He’s made a fucking art of it, frankly. But deep down—deep down where you haven’t been yet, babe—him and me are cut the very same. Least we used to be before he decided fucking some doctor and living a neat little life out in the country was more important than everything else.” He casts his eyes about the room at Jake’s “neat little life.”

“And how do you know he hasn’t been pretending he’s like you?” My voice is stronger this time—stronger than it’s been so far.

“’Cause you don’t pretend to do the things we’ve done, sweetheart. That’s how I know.”

My heart falters. My stomach drops. I shake my head. “No. He’s different now…with me, he’s different.” I can’t breathe.

Kevin smiles a crooked, surprisingly white smile at me and nods. “Yeah, he’s different all right. Now he bends doctors over tables and fucks them in the arse instead of lap dancers.”

The blood drains from my face as the bile rises up my throat. It’s not possible. He couldn’t have. But the look on his face tells me he could and did.

I feel violated.

He nods, eyebrows raised. “Quite the show you two put on. Weren’t expecting much from it really, seen Jay at it before, but I was well impressed with you.” He smirks. “I’ve paid for porn that wasn’t as good as that. Tell me something: you always moan like that, or just when you’re getting it in the arse? You like it up the arse, Alex? Sounded like you did. Always the fucking good girls, ain’t it…?”

I want to slap him. Punch him. Spit on him. Scratch his filthy, leering eyes out with my fingers. But I can’t. So I grit my next words out slowly. Naively.

“Perhaps you’re just not used to the sound of a woman enjoying herself. Must be hard when you have to hold them down—”

The rest of the words die on my tongue as he stands up off me and grabs my hair, hauling me up from the floor. “Well, let’s see if you enjoy this then,” he says as he drags me toward the bed.

Pain fights with panic as I cry out, not caring if my hair is ripped from my head. I pull against it, twisting my body and kicking out with my foot. I aim for his crotch but miss, though somehow I manage to connect my palm and nails with his face just before he throws me facedown on the bed. Flesh scrapes under my fingernails, and as he shouts in pain his grip on my hair loosens. I manage to turn around onto my back, but then I feel a fist slamming into the side of my head. Whack. Then again. Whack. The pain is blinding. As if some minor explosion has gone off behind my temple and cheek. Blood runs down my nose. He flips me back onto my front and climbs on top of me.

I’m going to pass out. I can’t fight him if I’m unconscious.

Awake, Alex. Stay bloody Awake. Count back from ten. Spell onomatopoeia. O-N-O-M-A —

He’s pulling at my shorts now, hard knees pressing into the backs of my thighs, hot breath against my neck, hand still in my hair. My blood feels boiling-hot, like it might melt me from the inside out and leave me a pile of sizzling flesh on the bed. I shouldn’t have said that to him. Shouldn’t have provoked him. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut?

I hear Jake’s voice then, loud and angry: You knew that this was only going to go one way. You knew that. But you did it anyway.

My arm swings backward into an angle I didn’t know it could go, and I manage to hit something. Flesh against flesh. I try thrusting my elbows backward, both at the same time, pounding them into him. He makes a few irritated groans, but then he’s pushing my face down into the bed, suffocating me. I can’t breathe. I try to turn my head, my lungs expanding with what little air I can get, and I feel his hands on my bare behind. When he lifts my head back up I take several deep breaths.

“You gonna keep that fucking mouth shut, or are you gonna make me hit you again?”

“Please…” I manage, squirming my head out of his hold. “Please don’t do this, Kevin. Please…” This will kill me. This is going to kill me. Crushed. Like a broken bird by the side of the road, insides ripped out.

The knife. The word is loud and sharp. Where is it? He didn’t have it when we were on the floor. Did he drop it when he came after me? I lean up as much as I can and edge up the bed. He wouldn’t have put it in his pocket if he wanted to use it. Which means it must be here on the bed somewhere. Or on the floor.

He’s on top of me now, his weight heavy and suffocating. One hand leaves my body, and I hear it. Metal. Buckle. Zip. Again, I hear Jake’s voice. It’s going to be all right, I promise you. You’re going to be okay. I’m crying again, and I hate myself for it.

Why isn’t he here? Where is he? I need him. More than that, I realize: I need my dad. I want my dad. Tears and saliva and blood hamper my panicked breath, and I think about just…giving up. Closing my eyes and hoping it’s over quickly. That there’s something left at the end of it.

“All you gotta do is lie still…” Kevin says from way way above. “…you can think about Jay the entire time, I honestly don’t give a fuck.”