Page 91 of Redemption
“How can you? How can you take a life?” I whisper. “Would you kill anyone for money? Cecilia?”
“What the fuck?No!”
“What’s the difference? If you don’t value life, if everyone is disposable?”
His jaw clenches and his lips tighten. “I have people I care about, people I’d die for, people I’d never harm. Cecilia is one of them.”
My lower lip starts to tremble. “Would you kill me?” I can barely form the words.
He swallows visibly. “No.”
“Why? What’s the difference now?”
“You’re—” He drains the last of his coffee and puts the cup down so hard I think it’s gonna shatter. “Stop with these fucking questions.”
I look at my hands, twist my fingers. “You seemed so nice,” I whisper. “I was wrong.”
“I can be nice. When I need to.”
“Just when you ‘need’ to? Not because you want to?”
“I’m nice now.”
“Because you ‘need’ to?”
“No.”
I look away. I feel sick and I don’t think I can keep up the act much longer. It takes too much effort. Before I leave there’s just one more question I need to know the answer to. I try to swallow the thick, frightened lump in my throat but it refuses to go away.
“How many women have you fucked before you killed them? Is that your thing?” I whisper.
I have no idea even which answer would be the least horrifying. Only me? Then it was personal and that is absolutely unforgivably evil. Or many? That would mean he’s a monster on every level possible. No answer would benefit me to hear and I already regret asking. I don’t need to know. I glance at his cup. It’s empty. I keep staring at the few drops of brown liquid that are left. My cheeks burn. I poured a lot in there. I wonder if he’ll die.
Please, don’t die. Just… sleep.
He inhales. Exhales through his nose. I don’t have to look at him to know that the muscle at the side of his jaw is clenching and unclenching. He inhales again. Exhales.
“Only you,” he finally grits out.
My eyes fill with tears as I turn to look at him. “Okay,” I whisper.
Nausea shoots up within me. Part of me already knew it. And still that wasn’t what I had hoped for. I want him to be just a monster, from the inside and out.Why me then?But I can’t force the words past my lips. It hurts too much. It’s time to let go. It’s time to leave. Inhaling shakily, I stand.
“I’m gonna brush my teeth, then I think I need to sleep. Could you… can you please not lock me in again? I get claustrophobic. It’s storming and all… I’m not going anywhere.”Please. Please, please, please!The sound of my pulse thuds loud in my ears as I wait for his reply.
He shrugs. “I trust you, Ker. I’m sure you won’t risk taking Cecilia outdoors. S’all right. I won’t barricade your door again.”
“Thanks, Christian.” And I truly mean it.
I have a hard time staying awake. In fact, I’m so tired I believe I mixed up the cups and drank the medicine myself. Cece is breathing steadily and I sit on my bed, swaying, listening to any sounds from the main room while I put on one garment at a time. A sock for her. A second shirt for me. A pullover for her—a bit tricky. Sweatpants over the jeans for me. She mumbles in her sleep but shows no sign of waking up. I don’t know how long I wait. I listen to water flushing. Soft rustling noises from clothes and towels. Creaking sounds from the springs in the couch. More creaking from springs. Discreet rustling from fabric again. Springs. Rustle. Creaks.
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
I wait. Breathe. Go through the plan. Wait. Watch the faint, even rising and falling of Cece’s chest. My mouth turns desert dry the second I decide it’s time.Oh, God. Make it work.But God has been painfully absent in my life the last few years, and the only one I can trust is myself. I hope the medicine has had its desired effect.