Psycho Inside Me

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  No way in hell would I shift my gaze from his. “Anyone else but who?” Who was the mystery girl? Was there some way I could kill her off and justify it as more than just a jealous tirade? I shifted my weight to my back leg and shoved my front leg forward more. I don’t know why I even bothered, but a part of me had to know. The same part of me that hoped he’d call every night, or make contact each week… anything.

  Deegan closed the distance between us in the space of a breath. He cupped my face in his hands and ran his thumb over my bottom lip.

  My breath caught and I think my heart dropped into my shoe. Inches separated us, and I couldn’t bear that he belonged to someone else. New tears overflowed and these he wiped away with all of his fingers. “You, doll. You’re the someone else. I can’t feel like this about you and really be with anyone else. Having a girlfriend holds the other chicks at bay. Plus, she doesn’t ask questions. She doesn’t care. I can’t have you like I want, so I make it seem like I have what I want.”

  Spinning, my mind couldn’t make sense of his words at first. If what I understood was correct, he had just confessed to caring about me and having a pseudo-girlfriend to hide his feelings. “Why can’t we be together? Why just this?”

  He sighed. “Because, we’d let it slip. I don’t know how or when. I’m not even sure who would discover it, but this thing we have, this… mission we’ve taken on is something that would tear us apart. I’d rather want you and know you’re okay and not be with you than to have my selfish needs met, be with you, and worry every second that you’re about to be arrested. I can’t have you get caught because of me.”

  “We could be careful. I promise. We could.” Desperation that something I wanted so badly was right there, right within reach, my fingertips could touch it. If I could just figure out what it was he wanted from me, say the magic word, do… “What can I do? I’ll do anything.”

  “Cassie. It’s not like that. I want to be with you, too. I’d love to go on dates with you. I’d love to take you home to meet my parents, even my jackass father. I’d love all of that. But we can’t. Don’t… Crap, I didn’t want to tell you.” He thrust his jaw to the side. “Okay. Look, my dad sometimes brings his work home, right? He leaves the files on his desk. A few months after Sheldon, I knocked them to the ground when I was getting something from his office. Bobby’s file fell to the ground. I looked through it and… they suspect a classmate had something to do with his death.”

  Oh man. I wouldn’t be implicated, but Deegan was in Bobby’s class.

  He continued. “I’m not saying we’d get caught for sure – they haven’t found his body or evidence that he’s dead, but I can’t take that chance with you. Do you understand me? If things didn’t end well, you’d resent me or hate me. I don’t know, something would happen. I can’t let it. Okay?” He scrunched his eyes closed and ran a hand over his face.

  I looked away. I didn’t understand why or how anything could keep two people apart when they cared for each other. His logic didn’t make sense to me. If I couldn’t have him, then wasn’t I in prison already? He came to me on the anniversaries. Worked with me. Helped me. We reached intimacy and fulfilled longings on the one date night we actually took together.

  The plan came as if it was meant to be the next step in our journey toward true justice.

  Hell, if I couldn’t have my vengeance and Deegan, too...

  Chapter 14

  The moment would disappear, if I didn’t act soon. I stepped into his space and rested my fingers, covered with dried blood, on the curve binding his neck and shoulder. I looked into his eyes, the dark large pupils welcoming me to dive in. “If this is the only time I get with you, then I’m going to start doing it more. You’ll join me, right? Together?”

  His eyes lowered to my lips and his hands moved to the sides of my waist. He didn’t answer. He warred within himself, as only he and I could do.

  “I’m not saying we kill whoever, whenever. I’ve been online in chat forums and I’ve found seven already that didn’t even get probation after they were caught molesting kids. I found people who deserve justice, Deegan. I’ll set everything up. I’ll be the bait, just like I’ve been doing. I’ll let you know when. That’s it. Okay?” I held back the desperation from showing. I’ll do anything, Deegan, anything.

  He shook his head. “No. For one thing, we can’t keep doing this once a year, let alone up it. And two, I don’t want you putting yourself in danger like that. I’m already stressed out as it is around this time of year because I just know you’re going to be out doing your thing.” He breathed deep, blowing out on a whoosh.

  “What if we stop? We could date and not do this anymore…” The prospect brought a wave of nausea roiling up inside me. Stopping had lost its appeal when the cop had pulled up and tried propositioning me.

  He studied me, his own doubt strong in his features. “Could you stop?”

  I waited for a yes to blurt from my lips. Instead, I leaned up on tiptoe and grazed his bottom lip with mine. The sensation pummeled me, weakened my resolve. I closed my eyes and wrapped my other hand around the back of his neck, my fingers pushing his head down to me.

  Our lips found each other, like two puzzle pieces finally together.

  Deegan’s soft moan spurred my brazen move forward. I tilted my head and softly parted my lips, welcoming him, inviting him. If he didn’t deepen the kiss, I’d be damn near tempted to demand it.

  But he broke contact, pushing me from him and holding me at arm’s length. Gasping, he shook his head. “Didn’t you hear me? We can’t be together, for our own good. I won’t string you along, Cassie. I can’t do that to you.” He waved his hand and then dropped it. “You were right last time. Let’s not, okay?”

  My lip quivered. “Kiss me, Deegan. I’m so sorry for last time. Is this how you felt? I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was scared. I’d never been kissed before and I… I just…” Dang it. We stared at each other, wanting but not giving and more than a little confused at what or how much to take and offer.

  He opened his mouth, the words almost there, but a sound from down the hall reached us. In unison, we turned, waiting. From the corner of his mouth, he muttered. “We need to get out of here.” He tugged me toward the green exit lights.

  But I straightened my legs and pulled back, shaking my head. “They’re locked. I tried all of them, already.”

  “Okay. The only door I could get in was down the hall, past Weston’s room. We have to go out – there – to get out.” He chewed his lip, worry in the crease between his eyebrows as he looked into the lit hallway.

  A squeak from a wheel, like that of a rolling garbage can or cart, reached us again. Deegan grabbed my hand. He pulled my head to his lips and breathed, “We need to hide. Now.”

  The bleachers I’d been under while hiding from Mr. Weston were completely open, pulled out to the line. Deegan dragged me to the other side of the gym, away from the body and the light. He shoved me under the closed set of bleachers, the set that had been shut like an accordion. His whisper barely carried to me, and I wasn’t more than eight inches from him. “Get in there and duck. If whoever that is comes this way, they’re going to turn those lights on.”

  I twisted my shoulder down, lifted my knee, and carefully stepped into the tight space. Sliding my backpack down my arms, I held its bulk at my side. Only slipping in enough to give Deegan room beside me, I hunkered down and rested my butt on a collection of bars, flinching even with the slight rubbing of my jeans on the metal. I have no idea how Deegan fit beside me, his arm over my head and his knees bent into a squat.

  Would I be lying if I said I didn’t lean into his shoulder and inhale the scent of soap and a light cologne? Yes, yes I would.

  A gasp and slight yell from the doorway jerked me from the crook of his shoulder. I bobbed my head to see through the gaps in the accordioned bleachers, glimpses of a shadow in the doorway doing little to appease my curiosity and worry.

  Deegan reached out and
grabbed my hand. “Shh.” We waited, I’m not sure for what, but I could wait all day with his fingers wrapped around mine. I stopped trying so hard to see and held still in case he moved and disconnected.

  I jumped when the lights snapped on with a fluorescent buzz. I sank lower in the slight shadows of the bleachers.

  “I need the cops and an ambulance. Someone’s been attacked. He might be dead.” A man’s voice echoed through the gym, bouncing off the wood floor and reverberating over the cement walls. “Oh, shit, it’s Weston. I don’t know.” A pause. “Yeah, he’s dead. Can you get here right away? Come to the front, I’ll open the doors for them.”

  Deegan pulled his hand from mine, backing up to the edge of the bleachers.

  The janitor disappeared and Deegan shimmied from our confines. “Come on. We don’t have very long.” He held out his hand and I shuffled as fast as I could from my spot. Deegan didn’t let go as we raced to the exit. He peeked out the doors, checking to the right and the left. “Let’s hurry.” He pulled me behind him over the body – which I pointedly ignored – down the hall past Mr. Weston’s door, opposite the direction of the front doors.

  We slipped out the side exit.

  I sighed with relief that it hadn’t been locked, too. Sirens squealed in the distance, closing in on the building. Without words, we both headed toward the track and the concealing outside structures. We powered through, rushing across the turf and past the spot where Mr. Weston had taken the bait.

  Deegan and I didn’t stop until we reached his street which was closer than mine. He placed a palm on my shoulder and stopped me beside a large oak tree. As soon as I stood still, he dropped his hand. “Do you want to get our tattoos now or wait?”

  What he was really asking me was Are you mad at me for not kissing you? Are we okay?

  “Let’s go now. I can’t go home amped up like this. Too much on my mind, you know?” My breathing hadn’t calmed down and if it didn’t soon, I might pass out from too much oxygen. Subtle wasn’t one of my stronger suits, so hopefully he understood that our conversation wasn’t over. He hadn’t finished speaking and I hadn’t been satisfied with the results.

  I jumped at the opportunity to spend more time with him.

  He drove. I didn’t zip up my jacket, hoping he’d notice I didn’t have a bra on. If he didn’t, he’d be the first guy in the history of ever to not notice when a bra was missing.

  In the truck, beside him, I tapped his arm. Sure, I was nervous as hell to re-broach the subject, but I’d just killed a teacher on my own. I really didn’t have anything to be nervous about. “Hey. I was serious about doing this more. If this is the only time I get to see you, then I’m not slowing down. Plus…” How did I tell him that the thought that there were more men out there like Mr. Weston, Sheldon, the cop, and Bobby made me sick to my soul? These men were the unreported, the un-caught. What about the ones who’d been caught and released? Or the ones who were in positions of power or authority like my last two kills?

  How did I get him to agree? At the same time, he had a lot to lose with his dad as the sheriff. What did I have to lose? Nothing. My dad had abandoned us emotionally when Mom died. I had my brother, and that simple fact kept me from going on a murderous rampage through the city.

  “Would you still stick to the together thing?” There, I’d asked it. The question that I hadn’t wanted to ask, that I’d been too afraid to really ask. Would he back me up…

  He twisted the wheel, working the brake and gas while I sat in painful limbo. Could I go on without the possibility of seeing him? I’d gone forward with Mr. Weston, but in the back of my mind, I’d hoped Deegan would somehow show up, like he sensed my need for him through some awesome-cool-superhero-power. But if that were possible, he’d have shown up at any given time over the past year. It seemed like I needed him all the time.

  We parked in front of Sal’s and he turned off the engine. We sat in silence. I crossed my arms. I didn’t remember when he’d gotten rid of the motorcycle, but the pickup worked.

  Finally, finally, he spoke. “I can’t. I don’t think the risk is worth it.”

  Angry, almost speechless, I snatched his phone from the pocket in the middle console. Punching in my code for access to my email, I pulled up the pictures I’d sent to myself for storage. “Meet Sherman Fetz, 53, divorced husband of two. This plumber has harassment charges brought up on him by a female customer who he wanted to really clean his pipes with. Not to mention his 12-year-old daughter has been taken to the police repeatedly when she comes back from good-old-dad’s, displaying bruises and sometimes even fractures. But she never talks, so they can’t pin anything on him.” I scrolled down, almost spitting each word. “Meet Joseph Turner, age 41, still living with Mommy. He’s raped four of his six nieces and nephews, his own sister, and beats his parents. But the cops won’t do anything because no one will testify against him.”

  I ignored his hand rising as he denies what I’m telling him and I go on. “Oh, wait, here’s my favorite one, Seth Johnson, 72. He’s been raping and molesting women and children for almost sixty years. Sixty years, Deegan. He’s only been reported once and all he had to do was probation for six months. The police have the information, the proof, but they can’t and won’t do anything unless someone reports it. Do you want me to keep going?”

  He grabs for my hands and halts my jittery gestures. “I’ll do whatever you want. I agree, they need to be taken care of. However, the only way I’m going to agree to go along with this is if you’re more careful. I need to know ahead of time where and when. We also need to change the way we kill them each time. That’s one way the cops will tie the kills together. The least amount of similar evidence between each one is the best chance we have of not getting caught. Maybe not use the same weapon… We’ll have to research it better.” But he didn’t answer my question about us.

  So I pushed. Why not, right? “What about us?”

  He rubbed his hands together and looked everywhere but at me. “The only us is when we get together for… this. I’m graduating soon, so we won’t have to worry about school. I’ll try to get my own place, but I don’t have anything planned besides school in the fall. I’m going to Eastern so I’m not that far away when you decide on a time.”

  I looked down, checking to see if I’d just been punched in the stomach. But I hadn’t. I just felt like I couldn’t breathe. No? He’d said no to me, like a final hell-no-not-in-your-dreams kind of a no.

  What did I say? Nothing. I had no rebuttal. I’d be damned if I’d beg him to love me. I climbed out of the car without another word and waited beside the shop door for him to join me.

  Deegan knocked on the glass just above the closed sign and glanced at me. “Cass, I’m —”

  I shined my brightest smile at him and ignored the tears almost spilling over. “No worries. I’ll text you when I’m ready. I’m over it.” And as far as he was concerned, I was over it. I could get over it.

  I’d learned to love the kills. I could learn to not love Deegan.

  Right?

  ~16 ½ years old~

  Deegan grabbed my hand and we laughed like we played a game of Red Rover. The first snow fall of the year marked our fourth kill since the anniversary with Mr. Weston’s death. In a matter of hours, our time together would be over. We’d return to reality and I’d feverishly plan our next kill just so I could see him again… See him again and thrill at the rush from setting up the “catch and kill”.

  “Hey, my dad’s not home. He has a late shift. I need to grab money for our tattoos. Sal’s sick of doing them free.” Deegan pushed his front door open and waved me inside. “Come on. We can go in just a second.”

  I hadn’t been in his house in years. Per his request, we kept our lives completely separate. The Deegan and Cassie that spent intimate time together every couple months never acknowledged each other elsewhere.

  In his kitchen, I leaned on the counter and tugged on my long sleeve black thermal shirt. A long tear from
the elbow to the wrist exposed the scratches and already-forming-bruises on my forearm. Deegan pulled a can of pop from the fridge and handed me a bottle of water. I hated pop.

  He fingered the torn material. “Don’t you think you cut it close this time?” He kept his tone casual. I’d warned him to stop coddling me or he was out. Not that I’d follow through with it.

  Shrugging, I pulled my sleeve over the wounds and wrapped my wrist in my hand. “Yeah. But whatever, you know?” I couldn’t tell him – or anyone… ever – that the man we’d just offed had almost gotten in my pants. As agreed, Deegan and I had opted to stop using knives and instead, we used what was available at the site of the murder. Nothing had been nearby in the park where I’d rendezvoused with the man I’d met online. The dark of night had been the only thing keeping my pants and bra on.

  Thankfully Deegan had sprung out and strangled my would-be raper.

  My first time came closer and closer to being with a man who meant nothing but another flower on my tattoo. Deegan didn’t understand the circumstances, how truly dangerous they were, or he’d never let me continue on as bait. If I didn’t, then I’d lose him and the thrill I got from enacting justice.

  “Wanna come up? I have an awesome set of brass knuckles for the next one.” Deegan’s grin resembled a small boy’s with a new toy he couldn’t wait to show off. Contagious, his excitement gripped me and I followed him without another word.

  I’d follow him anywhere.

  Deegan disappeared up the stairs. I unscrewed the lid from my water, took a swig, and set it down. My virginity was bound to be ripped from me by some bastard I’d kill seconds later. Was that what I wanted? To have my first time be with a fricking prick that wanted the control and power of the moment? Or did I try to have my first time be with… I glanced in the direction Deegan had gone.