CHAPTERTEN
“You know I never understood it. Why assholes like you live the way you do. You risk everything and make stupid decisions, all for a drug. For a fucking substance that’s only real function is to poison your mind. It feeds you lies and yet, you worship that shit like it’s your fucking god.”
The man hanging in the center of my basement makes a wet gurgling sound as the ropes around his wrist twirl him in a slow circle. I’m not sure if it’s a groan of agreement or one of pain, but I take it for what it is and continue on. I’m enjoying our little one-sided discussion. Besides, it’s not like he’s going anywhere else tonight.
“Take you, for instance.” I say, taking a swig of my water bottle as I step up to him and kick a blank canvas underneath his body. “You’re here because your addiction drove you to make some questionable choices. Choices that have real consequences. You should be angry at that fucking drug. After all, it’s going to cost you everything. But I’m willing to bet the only thing running through your mind right now is how good it would feel to have one… last… hit.”
At the premise of another hit, the man hanging in the center of the basement stirs to life. He forces one of his swollen eyes open and looks at me with a sense of longing that fucking depresses me.
“See what I mean?” I say, slapping the side of his swollen face as I toss my empty water bottle to the ground. “This isn’t right.”
“Stop taunting him, Ez.”Stevie snaps, appearing behind the man’s swaying body.“You’ve punished him enough. Besides, you and I both know it isn’t his addiction you’re talking about.”
She moves closer and the fact that I can almost smell the sweet vanilla on her skin only confirms I’m losing my shit. She isn’t real.I know that.But my imagination is a sadistic fuck and lately he’s been throwing me this little five-foot-five curveball any chance he can.
Unlike the bloody motherfucker hanging in the center of the room, I can admit when I have a problem. But my drug of choice isn’t any of that shit we sling to sustain our business.It’s her.
Stevie is my addiction and trust me, I’ve tried everything I can to get clean. But she’s the one bad habit I just can’t break.
“Don’t treat me like a problem.”She says, reaching up to stroke my face.“You and I… this thing we have… it’s so much more than that.”
I jerk away from her hand and glare down at her. “Why the fuck do you keep doing this?”
It’s the first time I’ve spoken to her since her appearances started, and it’s obvious my question catches her off guard. Her eyes flare and she wraps her arms across her stomach as she mumbles out her reply.
“I wanted to check on you.”She says softly.“I’m worried about you, Ez.”
I clench my jaw and look away.Right.She may think she cares.Hell, she may even want to care, but things between us won’t ever be the same. To her, I’ll always be the man that killed her sister. That kind of betrayal never fades.
I stare at her for longer than I’ve allowed myself to in weeks, and feel myself visibly swallow.Fuck, just looking at her like this is torture.
Her long, dark hair frames the angles of her face in a chaotic halo of waves, creating a stark contrast to her fair golden skin. She’s beautiful, but the storm behind her eyes fucking kills me. They have this wild look in them that tells me everything she does; she does viciously. She fights viciously; she fucks viciously, and she loves viciously.Maybe that’s why I can’t quit her.
Clearing my throat, I turn away and walk back towards my tray of implements in the corner of the room.
Fuck.I think, gritting my teeth as my fingers grip tightly onto the edges of the metal tray.This has to stop.If I keep playing into this, it’s only going to fuel my obsession.
Letting out a sigh, I pick up the 9-inch bowie knife and grip the hilt tightly in my hand. I need a distraction and luckily for me, there’s a perfect one still hanging in the middle of the room.
I turn to face him and feel the darkness inside of me takeover.That’s better. I think, cracking my neck as I stride towards him.It’s time to get back to reality.
“Hurting him won’t make you feel better.”She warns, moving to walk beside me.“Nothing will.”
“Who says I want to feel better?” I snap, glaring at her as I sink my blade deep into the man’s abdomen. He barely makes a sound as the blade punctures his gut and remains silent as long lines of blood drip down to the canvas below him.
“Maybe you’re right.”She whispers as she pivots her head to stare at me.“Maybe you don’t. Is that why you lied about my sister?”
Her accusation catches me off guard and I take a step back.She can’t know that.
“I’m a figment of your imagination, remember?”She taunts, following my retreat.“I know everything. Every dark little thought that goes on in that fucked up head of yours.”
For a second, I think about denying it, but there’s no actual point. She isn’t real, and all of this shit is merely an illusion. A literal manifestation of my own twisted mind.
She’s right. I didn’t kill her sister. Let me say that a-fucking-gain for good measure. I didn’t kill her sister.I lied.But the way she looked at me that night. The desperate look in her eyes. That shit killed me, and it was the first time I could see what was really happening.
Stevie was losing herself. With each passing day, her need for vengeance was slowly driving her crazy. She almost killed Jessie and was seconds from going on a rampage to find answers. It was consuming her and I know from my own experience that once you welcome that darkness, it’s almost impossible to find a way out. I couldn’t let that happen to her. So I confessed to a crime that I didn’t commit and gave her the closure she needed to move on. She already saw me as the villain in her story. What was another betrayal to add to the books?
“You should go.” I bite out, shutting her down without bothering to confirm her accusation.