Sick Like Me (A Miss Hyde Novella Book 4)

by Kindra Sowder

  I knew it even as I drifted off to sleep after polishing off the drink and setting the tumbler on the coffee table next to the magazine I didn’t plan on opening.

  ***

  The crimson room I had slain countless men in lay before me. There was no body to be seen. No man to rip apart and feast on his heart. No, that would come later I was certain. I stood in front of the door that led out into my bedroom in the same dingy button down I wore in the warehouse where I was taken, a struggle audible from the other side of the door. I couldn’t tell whose voices they were on the other side. But, as I heard my feral cries, a man’s voice floated through the wall. I turned toward the red blockade as who it belonged to came into crystal clear focus, snapping my mind into focus that had recently been absent.

  Dax.

  A voice I hadn’t heard since the moments before his death when he begged me to spare him. No, not me. Hyde. He had begged my other, more sinister half to let him live. She wouldn’t have any of it. I had liked him. Really liked him. But she wasn’t having any of that either. Were we destined to be alone? Only meant to kill and maim? I didn’t want to believe that was the case. My parents had found a life together. Then again, that ended in their deaths as well. As my own bloody hands.

  Another voice joined in the chorus on the other side of the wall. One that hadn’t been present that night. Something my mind had to have cooked up to reinforce guilt. How ironic it was that Kyle, the man I had killed that spurred my kidnapping, rape, and torture, was on the other side of the wall as well.

  With a groan, the empty wall swung toward me, and I backed away, my backside hitting the metal table I slew men on at Hyde’s will. I hadn’t enjoyed the kills then. Not until Johan and Mitch. I had taken pleasure in their deaths along with Hyde. Was it because they had hurt me, or because it was truly a part of who I was?

  Fear gripped me as I rotated my body so that I could continue to back away, my fingers trailing the cold metal table. No one had come through the door yet as it swung open, but I heard their voices on the other side with my own as the most prominent. It was primal and filled with rage as my own cries filled the space. A shiver forced its way up my spine until my back met something solid. Flesh and muscle. Hard muscle followed by maniacal yet melodic male laughter. Two other voices that I recognized instantly and caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up.

  Spinning on my heels, my eyes met those of Johan and Mitch. My captors. My torturers. My rapist. The men I collaborated with Hyde to kill to save us.

  “Can the big bad wolf come out to play?” Mitch laughed.

  A shrill scream wrenched itself from within my chest as Johan’s hands closed around my forearms, holding me in front of him so I couldn’t look away. I struggled as best I could, but it was as if all the energy had been zapped from my muscles. Bare chests brushed against the dingy button down I wore, sticky with congealed blood as Hyde’s laughter echoed off the walls. The walls began to bleed. Hot liquid life flowed down from the ceiling and down the smooth paint in large drips, threatening to fill the room and drown us all. And I couldn’t get away. I couldn’t get out. I wrenched my arms away from Johan and turned to meet the dead eyes of Dax and Kyle, other hands reaching around them to grab me that didn’t belong to them. They belonged to each man whose life I had taken before these moments. The guilt had overpowered me before, but not now. Now it was only the fear.

  Hyde’s heat licked at my belly and at my mind, tingling through my veins.

  I couldn’t see her anymore, but I felt her presence in the room as the fingernails on each pair of hands that reached out to me drew blood. My flesh stung as more and more scratches opened up on my skin, my own blood joining the rivers running down the walls and down the chests of every man seen and unseen in the room.

  A chorus of masculine cries rang in my ears, causing me to scream out as my hands came to cover them as if it could block out the noise. It didn’t. They only grew louder and louder as I sank to my knees in the middle of the throng. A scream caught in my throat, then a new sound joined the chorus – quiet at first, but grew in volume quickly.

  Steady at first.

  The steady rhythm of a heartbeat. Not my own since it was hammering away frantically inside my chest. No, this came from outside my body, almost like the room itself had a life of its own. It was almost like the lives that had ended in that room created and fueled one of its own, especially as the blood flowed down the walls toward me and my victims.

  Crouched there on the floor, hands and fingers tore at me while harsh voices ripped at my insides. And I could do nothing but let them because I deserved it. I took their lives. It was only fair that they torment me to this extent because I had done it to them. I had ripped them violently from this world, and it was time they both hit back.

  I couldn’t stop the shrieks that tore themselves from my vocal chords, ripping them to shreds like the men surrounding me did to my flesh. Blood poured from open gashes and sweat from pores.

  Then a pair of warm, soft lips grazed my ear. I resisted the urge to jerk away.

  “You need me, Blythe. We are one,” my own voice said to me, hoarse as Hyde spoke to me over the sounds of violence around me.

  I focused on her words, feeling deep within my heart and my soul that she was right. She had been right on more than one occasion when it came to the fact that we needed each other in one way or another. She needed me to keep up the façade of the normal, hard working woman. I needed her to save us from those wanting to harm us. There was no way around it. She was right yet again. Just like always.

  “Please, make it stop,” I begged through gritted teeth, my jaw clenched so hard that I felt as if my teeth would crack.

  “Your path is a bloody one, Blythe. You need me to help guide you through it. And Adam knows, I can feel it. You just need to admit it to yourself. You can’t get through this without me…Or him,” Hyde stated. “We are all you have.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I shook my head. I didn’t want to admit it – couldn’t admit that she was right. No matter how much I knew, it to be true. She wanted me to acknowledge how much I needed her and, before now, the thought had indeed crossed my mind, but never to the point where I could agree with her when she said the words.

  Then the room went completely silent, void of any sound except for my own ragged and terror filled breaths. I looked up and turned my head to see Hyde beside me. Her breaths were warm on my skin, and I caught the scent of metallic blood as she kneeled beside me with her finger tips barely touching the hardwood floor to keep her balance. Her auburn hair was soaked in the stuff, sticking to her face and neck. My face and neck. My hair. My eyes stared back at me but glowed a brilliant green amplified by my own subconscious and my fears. As if the horror I felt made her even more evil than I wanted to believe she was. But was that truly the case? Was she evil? Was Adam evil?

  I guessed it all depended on who you asked as well.

  If you asked me before this very moment – before everything that had happened over the last years – I would’ve said yes. But now? If you asked me now, I would tell you that I wasn’t so sure anymore. Even with the addition of someone else like me, it didn’t make matters any easier. If anything, it added another layer of complications I hadn’t seen coming. So I couldn’t say I was certain of anything anymore because, in the end, if Hyde was evil, I was also evil and I didn’t think I could handle that revelation.

  “We need each other, so I want to make you a deal,” Hyde offered.

  My gaze shot to hers and our eyes met, her green eyes practically glowing with ferocity and power. I felt it leach out of her and into me – through each and every pore down into my very being. Becoming even more a part of me than she already had been considering she resided within me all along. Since I was born. A curse passed down from my parents and their lineage. They paid for it in the end, but that didn’t stop the fear that began to creep into my mind just staring at her – her, my, face covered in blood that dripped
down our chin. It was stringy and congealed, and I would have vomited if it weren’t for the sheer panic at her proximity. The smell of it didn’t help matters either. It was strong and powerful just like the entire visage of this nightmare.

  With a trembling voice, I asked, “And what is that?”

  A tear that I hadn’t realized welled up in the corner of my eye and slid silently down my cheek, a lonely soldier on the frontlines of my horror and what it could bring. Hyde reached out with her fingers and trailed one down the trail my tear left behind, a sad look on her face as if she felt horrible about everything. Maybe she did, but I highly doubted it. As long as she got what she wanted – which was a fresh kill – she didn’t care what I felt. Or was that a façade? How much could she really care about the flesh and blood person that made her existence possible? I could always ask, but even I felt that would be breaking the last chain that tethered me to my sanity?

  “It’s a deal between two entities sharing the same body. I want the kill. No,” she shook her head, “I need the kill. You need companionship. Well, whatever form that takes.”

  I knew exactly what she meant. Intimacy. Something I hadn’t been able to have without fear she would kill every man that touched me.

  “How do you suppose we do that?” I probed, interested.

  “I hang back when you are with a man. You hang back when I’m with a man.”

  “You mean killing him,” I snapped.

  She held up her hand with annoyance. “That’s quite enough. I’m offering you something I’m sure no one else like us has ever been offered before. You take the deal or leave it. I’d rather this be a symbiotic relationship since we have to coexist and, I’ll be honest, it hurts when I have to force myself out.”

  She gripped the sides of her head as if she were in pain, and I understood. Hers was a physical pain in whatever sense that was possible. Mine was very much emotional. Psychological when it came to the both of us.

  This was a fair enough deal. Even though she’d be wearing my face when she killed. None of that mattered. No one ever survived to tell the tale anyway. I slowly rose, and she stood with me, our eyes never once leaving each other. No matter how many times I saw her – whether in my dreams or otherwise – it always startled me how my face could twist in such a ferocious fashion. Hyde’s lips were warped in a sneering grin as she looked at me, not blinking even once in the darkening room.

  “You mean it? I take this deal, and you let me have control? You let me finally have what I want without worrying about killing someone?” I probed, knowing full well that she meant every word she said. She wanted what I did. Freedom to be herself.

  She blinked finally, like my reiteration of the terms shocked her. “That’s correct.”

  “And in return, I let you off the leash every now and again?”

  She nodded her head, a devilish grin spreading on her lips. Hyde knew I was close to giving into the deal, and, why wouldn’t I? Instead of fighting one another, we could coexist without getting in one another’s way. I lowered my chin and mirrored her expression, the both of us in perfect agreement as we stood there together.

  I smiled, letting my body relax as the terror from the moments leading up to this melted away. My heart skipped a beat in excitement.

  “It’s a deal.”

  Chapter 9

  When I awoke from the dream, I felt oddly at ease and fully rested. Turning over in bed, I spotted the clock. It read one a.m., and my mind instantly went to Emmett Adler, the artist I was undeniably attracted to who wanted more than the professional relationship I pushed on him. Now, after striking this deal with Hyde, I felt I could take on the world, but I’d start small. I’d start with Emmett and his irresistible body I wanted nothing more than to run my hands all over while his sultry, deep brown eyes stared at me in wonder. Rippling heat moved through my belly along with a growl that purred past my lips. Hyde slithered through my body seductively, caressing all the dark and sensual places I wanted to go.

  My belly tightened and my muscles clenched when I grazed my fingers over the hem of my soft, black panties. I bit my lip and threw the blankets off, sailing off the bed and across the floor to the closet without a second thought. I had to go to him before I lost my nerve. Even though I could still feel her lingering under the surface, I knew she’d keep to our deal. She’d let me have this, then I’d give her what she wanted.

  Compromise.

  Shuffling through my closet, I found the one thing that I knew would be extremely cliché, but I had always wanted to try. The red nightgown I wore was perfect, and it would be my secret that it was all I wore underneath a slimming black trench coat besides a pair of lacy panties. I slipped it on and cinched it around my waist, then turned my attention to a pair of black stilettoes it didn’t take me long to find.

  In moments I barely remembered, I was out the door and stepping out into the New York City nightlight, still crowded despite the late hour. People stared as I ran. I ran until I couldn’t anymore. I ran until my shoes met the concrete of the steps outside Emmett’s building. I didn’t know him well enough. A part of me kept reminding myself of that, but I didn’t care. I had my first night of promised freedom to relish in the attention of another without terror, and I would be taking full advantage of it.

  I rode the elevator up to his floor with anticipation, my body humming with a thrumming energy that seemed to collect in my belly to branch out and collect again. Imagining him just the way I had seen him the day before, dirty with the results of creation, beautiful and dark. Everything I needed and wanted – more than anything. Reaching down, I trailed the tips of my fingers up my inner thigh and sighed, closing my eyes when my fingers met the lace in between my legs. The ding of the elevator caused me to open my eyes, seeing nothing but the hallway that would take me to Emmett’s apartment. I stepped out of the elevator with confidence and with purpose, then knocked on his door, my breaths ragged and my entire body tightening and humming with need.

  After agonizing seconds, the door swung open and Emmett stood on the other side, his dark eyes wide in surprise at my arrival. His chest was bare, tanned and gorgeous in the fluorescent light. Pajama pants hung low on his hips, and his hair was messy with sleep. Sexy. A growl resonated in my chest at the sight of him.

  “Blythe?” he asked, the shock leaving his face. It was replaced with something else. Something primal. Something I felt moving through my entire body like a tidal wave. I was only happy to let it drown me. “What are you doing here?”

  “Can I come in?” I asked, twirling the fabric of the edge of my coat between my fingers.

  He backed away from the door and motioned with his arm toward the interior of the apartment, “Absolutely. Please, come in.”

  My hips rolled as I sauntered inside, walking past him and untying my trench coat, his eyes on me the entire time. He closed the door and followed me into his living room. It was as nice as I remembered, even though it hadn’t been that long since I had come to see his paintings. The room was only lit by a fire in the floating fireplace. The dancing flames threw seductive shadows over us while we watched one another.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I?” I purred.

  His eyebrows perked up as if he noticed the change in my tone since the last time we spoke, and he should have. I made it far too obvious for him to ignore. He recovered quickly and walked to the other side of the living room toward a small bar I hadn’t noticed the last time I was there.

  “No, no.” He shook his head and stopped in front of the bar, looking toward me. “I’m a night owl. Would you like anything to drink?”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I replied.

  I stepped toward him as he poured himself a drink of an amber liquor, most likely scotch. Maybe even bourbon. I wasn’t able to spy the label. When I neared him, he hadn’t even noticed my approach despite the clicking of my heels on the hardwood floor as he set the bottle down on the bar’s surface.

  “So, what can I do for you, Miss McAliste
r?”

  “Blythe, please.”

  He turned around, his eyes scanning the length of my body and its proximity, with a grin on his face.

  “We’re back to a first name basis, I see. Something change?”

  I twined my fingers through the tie of my coat and untied it, letting it fall as I began to remove the trench coat that covered the negligee underneath. “You could say that.”

  His eyebrows perked up. “And what is that?”

  I smiled at him seductively and opened the trench coat, rolling my shoulders, so it slid from my arms and onto the floor at my feet. His eyes widened for all of a second and then began to smolder, his deep browns becoming beautifully sultry.

  “I’m tired of not getting what I want.”

  Taking a few slow, gliding steps toward me, he asked, “And what do you want, Blythe?” He stopped in front of me, his fingers grazing the fabric of my nightgown. “Tell me.”

  “I want to feel something besides fear,” I let slip in a breathy whisper.

  “What do you have to be scared of?”

  I hadn’t truly thought of that before. It was a slip of the tongue that I hadn’t expected, but it wasn’t wrong. I wanted to live without fear and the horror of death that came at my fingertips. I wanted pleasure and needed comfort. I needed him more than anything.

  “Closeness,” I breathed. “Everyone I get close to dies.”

  Emmett leaned in and nuzzled my ear, his breath coming in short excited gasps while his hands roamed over my hips. My fingers dug into the bronze flesh of his arms. My gut clenched in anticipation and a carnal growl grew deep inside my chest. His lips brushed my ear, lighting my entire body on fire with vibrant bursts of electric arousal. And longing. I barely knew him but had glimpsed a part of him from his artwork that I was certain most hadn’t noticed. He was deep. He was more than words could describe, and it was as if something inside of me recognized that in him.