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by Nolon King


  “You mean so you can help yourself.” Then picking up his previous thread, “And maybe I don’t feel like fucking you, knowing you’ll probably be thinking about some kid while I’m inside you.”

  “Maybe you don’t want to fuck me because I’m not covered in blood!”

  He grabbed her by the shoulder.

  Selena sneered, “Sorry about menopause. Shit really went to hell between the sheets after I stopped coating your dick in blood every month.”

  He grabbed her by the throat. Pushed her toward the bed.

  Selena was disgusted.

  Who was this man she had married, so petty and jealous and obsessed with things that weren’t even happening that he couldn’t even look her level in the eye and tell her the truth?

  She’d normalized his fantasies, but she had done so at the expense of her career, and now possibly her children’s futures.

  Selena wondered if this was it, if she was going to die.

  Adam’s hands tightened, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

  This was all her fault.

  With her life and career both crumbling around her, Selena considered a final maybe that she never considered before.

  Maybe it wasn’t Adam that she had been lying to this whole time.

  Maybe Selena had been lying to herself.

  She looked up into his eyes, silently pleading with Adam to let her go.

  His fingers relaxed, but there was still murder in his eyes.

  And as he turned Selena around and yanked down her skirt, then followed with her panties, her suspicion felt like a certainty.

  Her heart was broken, because she really did love this man.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  She heard Adam slam the front door on his way out. It wasn’t easy, you really had to throw your shoulder into the thing if you wanted to be dramatic. Adam wanted her to know that he was pissed, and out of there. Selena was glad.

  The sex had been brutish and abrupt, and Adam had satisfied himself without trying to please her. For the first time in their marriage, he’d been using her, rather than the other way around.

  She needed to figure out how to get control back. If he thought the only way to keep her attention was to become a serial killer in reality …

  She went to her nightstand and texted someone she had never texted before, though she was sure that his number would be in her phone.

  It was, so she texted, Can you come over? I have a favor to ask.

  Three seconds later, Dane texted back. Be right there!

  Park at the side and I’ll let you in through the back.

  The twenty minutes felt like an hour. Selena kept worrying that Adam would return too soon. She was waiting at the door when Dane got there.

  “Are you okay?” He eyed her up and down, because clearly she wasn’t.

  She nodded, trying not to think about the little bit of Adam still leaking out and dribbling down her inner thigh as she gestured toward the living room. “Mind if we sit?”

  “Of course.”

  Dane followed Selena into the living room and sat in the love seat, across from her on the couch. She had no idea how to start.

  “So what’s up?” he prompted, trying to help.

  “I need a favor.”

  He held up his phone with a smile. “You said that.”

  Selena smiled back. This felt wrong, but right now so did everything else in her life. “I need you to follow Adam.”

  Dane appeared surprised, but in no way displeased. “And why would you want me to follow your husband?”

  “You drive, right?”

  He barely nodded. Of course he drove. She just told him to park in the back.

  “Then if it’s not too much to ask, I’d love for you to follow him around for a day or two. This weekend. See if he’s doing anything unusual, going anywhere weird.”

  “Anywhere weird? Can you be more specific?”

  “I want to know if he goes anywhere near Ollie Harris.”

  A shadow fell across his face. “Why would he be around Kari’s father? Is something dangerous happening?”

  He’d be around Kari’s father because Adam is smart enough to effectively frame someone else for his crimes.

  She shook her head. “I wish I knew more, but I don’t. I just … I can’t trust anyone else right now.”

  “Not even your sons?”

  Selena swallowed. “Not with this.”

  Dane gave her what seemed like a wicked little smile. “What makes you think you can trust me?”

  Trying not to cry, she said, “I don’t have any other choice.”

  He moved from his loveseat to her couch. Sat six inches away. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

  This felt wrong. She stood and walked toward the back door, and like a puppy, he followed. She held it open, suddenly wanting him to leave.

  But Dane was lingering. Waiting for what, Selena didn’t know.

  Except that she did.

  He was looking at her with hungry eyes that she had to ignore. Because she was not the woman Adam apparently believed her to be. She gestured outside, toward his Explorer. “Thanks again.”

  “Sure thing,” he said, clearly wanting to say something more. Another few seconds of silence, then he asked, “Is there any place that you want me to start?” A bitter note entered his voice. “I don’t mind being an errand boy, but do you know where he is now?”

  “Of course,” Selena said.

  Then she gave him the address.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Adam sat in his Porsche outside The Inside Scoop, listening to Blood in the Cut on repeat.

  He was sick and tired of waiting. He’d wanted to keep the cat in its bag, maybe drown it in the river, but now the feline was fucking his life with its bloody claws.

  This wasn’t his usual time, but it was the hour that chose him.

  Adam preferred the midday shift, when the woman in the blood-red lipstick was usually alone. People wanted ice cream both before and after dinner, increasingly so as evening marched into night. Summer had taken the evening shift from two to three employees.

  Hours later, the first of Poppy’s coworkers had left, leaving her alone with one girl whose obnoxiously-long hair spilled down her shoulders almost to her waist. Her movements were swift compared to Poppy’s slow and methodical scooping. The brunette appeared to be in a hurry, but Poppy seemed like she had nowhere to go.

  Fate, or the devil it seemed, was definitely smiling.

  Finally the last girl left, leaving Poppy to lock up alone. Adam killed the radio and got out of the car, grateful for the shadows as he watched the glass door close behind the brunette.

  After she turned the corner, he dashed across the street.

  He opened the door and Poppy called out, “Sorry, we’re closed!”

  Then she turned around.

  “Oh,” she said. “It’s you.”

  “It’s me.”

  She didn’t know what to say, and neither did he. The lights were mostly out. And in the silence and shadows the humming freezers sounded like thunder.

  Adam wondered what he looked like. Was he drooling? Leering? Could she peer inside his mind and see herself as he imagined her, choking on her own blood?

  “The register’s closed and everything is put away. Is there something I can help you with?”

  Yes.

  You can make me whole.

  You can make me a god.

  You can be my sacrifice.

  “Adam?”

  His name sounded like a prayer.

  What could he say? The impulse was killing him.

  He’d expected this to feel right, but somehow it was wrong.

  Was it because Selena had hobbled his inner killer?

  Or because she was his first, and he’d been waiting a lifetime for this?

  The door was open, and all he had to do was walk through it. The girl with the blood-red lipstick stood a few feet from Adam, awaiting her
death by his hand.

  He was aroused, but not hard.

  Something was very wrong.

  “I’m sorry,” he stammered, not knowing what to say. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  She looked almost concerned. “I can get you some water. Would you like some water?

  “No. Thanks.” He shook his head and closed his eyes. Tried to make this feel right.

  He pictured her body, naked and sticky. Nipples erect, before they were severed.

  But this time it didn’t work. His dick was still soft.

  This time Adam looked at the woman in blood-red lipstick standing behind the counter, staring back at him in worry or something worse, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

  Despite the vivid images in his head, Adam didn’t want to fuck or kill her.

  He only wanted to run.

  “I’m sorry … I … I gotta go.”

  “Are you—”

  But Adam was already outside, walking fast toward his Porsche, feeling her watching him flee. He was hyperventilating. About to throw up.

  Thinking about grabbing her, killing her, ending her life … it terrified him. Disgusted him.

  Revolting, repulsive, repellent.

  But why now? What was different?

  Because something was obviously missing.

  And then, like an anvil dropping on his head, Adam finally understood exactly what was missing.

  Selena.

  She had been a part of Adam’s fantasies for so long, first listening, then talking him through them, and finally, roleplaying until they were sticky and panting. She was a part of the daydream, the cherry crowning his crimson-covered wish. But now she wasn’t here and that left him nothing to hold onto.

  Now he was empty, and thoroughly alone.

  He thought back to all the horrible things he said, and wished he could take them back.

  He didn’t want actual blood, he craved the mutual fantasy of imagined chaos, that deep connection formed through their mutual fascination with violence, and their willingness to explore it without any judgement around their shared arousal.

  She was the first person to accept him, when he revealed his darkest fears and fantasies. Instead of repulsing her, his darkness was an aphrodisiac. He helped her to stomach the same darkness inside her.

  And that’s why he loved her. He thought of their last session, when she’d thrashed back against his hardness, screaming for him to Imagine the blood.

  His erection was back.

  But this time Adam knew who it truly belonged to.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Dane couldn’t believe what he was seeing. But suddenly, it was all adding up.

  He’d driven directly to the address that Selena had given him. And sure enough, parked a half block away, Adam’s car.

  The Inside Scoop. A trendy ice cream chain with artisan flavors like carrot habanero, sweet cream and biscuits, and Dane’s favorite, the spicy chocolate.

  But Adam wasn’t there to get ice cream. He was there to do something he wasn’t supposed to.

  Maybe he was fucking one of the working girls, waiting for her to get off so that he could too.

  That theory turned out to be incorrect. Because even if the last girl was the one he was waiting for, she definitely hadn’t been waiting for him. Dane had a clear line of sight right into the ice cream parlor. The window was a wide circle, so people could see the guys and gals slinging cream against the marble, to convince idiots it was worth the seven dollars.

  She was surprised to see him. He fumbled around like he was going to piss his pants, then skittered over to his bitchmobile like a roach.

  Adam pulled away from the curb. Dane waited a few moments, then followed.

  He tossed the red notebook onto the passenger seat and kept a couple blocks behind the man who was losing his secrets to the world. Dane knew the truth.

  Before Selena confided in him (and he was glad that she had, even though she’d also sent him on this idiot errand), Dane knew all about Adam and his latest obsession. Half the internet had read the excerpts that someone posted from Selena’s notes about him — the half that wasn’t busy downloading GIFs of kittens in need of grammar lessons.

  And there she was, the girl with the blood-red lipstick. She wasn’t bad. Half of Dane wanted to follow her, see where she went and where that would take him. But the other half was dutybound to follow Adam. Since so many of his dreams and pretty much all of his future were wrapped up in what happened with Selena’s husband, he let the girl go.

  As he drove, Dane thought about one of the passages from Selena’s journal.

  Reading that, and realizing that Adam was the man behind those words, gave Dane what he now considered the happiest day of his life. Because now he knew that Selena could love him like he loved her. Her husband was so much darker than the face he gave to the world.

  Just like Dane.

  Selena would love him so long as he earned it.

  Respect would come first.

  And that’s why he was following Adam now, disgusted as he was.

  What was wrong with him? That sick fascination with blood … it was filthy. There was a reason people got dizzy and fainted at the sight of someone else’s blood. That was an evolutionarily appropriate response. Blood meant danger. If you were scared of the scent, then you were probably worried about being prey. Enjoying the sight, well, maybe that made you a predator.

  So that’s what Adam was.

  And now Dane knew just what to do.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  A knot of gnarled gray clouds hovered above Levi’s home in what should have been a gorgeous summer sky. But it was even worse inside. Behind closed doors, the place felt like a funeral. Mom shut herself in her office, after a morning of monastic silence. Dad sat cross-legged on the couch, claiming to be writing new material for a gig, staring at his tablet like it was a window into a dimension where things hadn’t gone to shit.

  As for Corban, he hadn’t come home. Levi wasn’t sure if his parents didn’t care that he’d probably slept at Kari’s, or if they’d stopped caring what happened to either of their kids.

  Levi was glad. He didn’t know how he was ever going to look his brother in the eye again.

  He didn’t just feel embarrassed, he felt broken. Like he had snapped something inside himself while trying to do the same to Corban.

  The look on his face. And Kari’s.

  The way Elliot and Pussabo had turned their backs on him and walked away — Levi couldn’t tell if they’d abandoned him in support of Corban or out of fear that the crowd would associate them with his brother being a dick.

  Only Dane had been willing to hang with him at the festival after Corban rubbed Levi’s nose in his mistake.

  Wanna hang? Dane texted, just when Levi had decided he couldn’t take another second of silence.

  Definitely. I’ll leave the back open cuz fuck my parents and I’ll take snacks to the game room. Meet u there.

  Cool.

  Levi went down to the kitchen and had barely opened the fridge when Dad showed up to ruin his day.

  “Hey …”

  Dad’s best attempt to start a conversation.

  Levi grunted. The best he could do, and really, the old man didn’t deserve any better.

  “Everything okay?”

  Levi pulled a six pack of beer from the bottom shelf and slammed the fridge. I dare you to give me shit about drinking. “Are you kidding?”

  Adam looked away, then back at Levi. “I know. I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  Levi opened his mouth to tell his father to fuck off, but then realized he’d never seen his father’s eyes so empty.

  It was so unfair. Why was Levi aching inside when his dad had done something wrong?

  “I’m sorry,” Adam said, touching Levi tentatively on the shoulder. “None of this is your fault, but it’s falling on you anyway.”

  Now it was Levi’s turn to look away, thinking again of the
horror in Kari’s eyes, and the fury in Corban’s. “Some of it’s my fault.”

  “It’s going to take time, but you’re going to get past this.” Dad nodded at the six-pack and surprised Levi with, “Why don’t you start with one?”

  “Dane’s coming over.”

  Something changed on his father’s face. “Like hell he is.”

  “You were cool with it a second ago!”

  “I was cool with your underage drinking, not with Dane coming over.”

  “Why do you care if my friends come over? Am I on restriction?”

  “I don’t want you being friends with Dane anymore.”

  He thinks he can pat me on the shoulder and mumble an apology, then take away the only friend I’ve got left? “What the fuck is your problem?”

  “Don’t swear at me, and yes, I’m serious. I don’t want him in our home.”

  “Honestly, I don’t give a shit what you want!” A deep breath. Levi didn’t know if he should say it, but then fuck it. “Is this because you think he has a crush on Mom?”

  Levi had never seen the darkness that twisted Adam’s expression right then, something fierce and unholy, so close to violence that he nearly fell a step backward.

  He’d never been afraid of his own father before.

  Then Adam got the darkness under control.

  “I’m sorry, Levi, I know it doesn’t make sense to you. But I’ve decided. Dane’s no longer welcome under this roof.”

  “Your house, your rules,” Levi snarled. “By the way, what are the rules about ruining everyone’s life with your serial killer fantasies?”

  He should’ve felt righteous as he watched the blood drain from his father’s haggard face.

  He should’ve felt triumph as he snatched a bag of chips from the counter and stormed upstairs to the game room, fully intending to sneak Dane into the house whenever possible, just to prove that he could.

  But all he could think was that he recognized the darkness in his father’s expression when his true self came out for a peek.

  He was sure it was the same darkness that everyone else had seen on Levi’s face when he went after after Kari.

 

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