Kisses and Lies

“Again… you hate her, that makes it hard,” I tell him.

“I do, but I love you.” My hand freezes at his words. “You protected me. Showed me what love is. You didn’t even know you were doing it. I’d hear your screams when they would burn you. I never ran too far from the trailer. I had to know. Had to know they didn’t kill you.”

“They could never have killed me.”

“They could have. You loved Mom, and you should have left several times. You didn’t, though, because you wanted to protect me from her, Marcus. You stayed because you stay for broken things. And Rochelle is broken now.”

“No, she isn’t. She’s hurt.”

“If you say so. But also think about what you want.” Blaze steps back as I put Dave’s hand flat on the table, his screams are muffled as I start to saw each finger off individually. It’s not long before he passes out. The area fills with blood again, mixing with what is already dried up from when we did his toes yesterday.

Blaze has instructed we give him the same pain he inflicted on Tanika. And short of shoving this saw up his ass, which I am still contemplating, this will do. Torturing him and stopping when he passes out, then restarting when he wakes again. Over and over until I have nothing left to cut off.

Then, if I feel generous, I might take this blade to his throat and finish the job.

“She wants kids,” I tell Blaze, my blade sitting on Dave’s stomach as we wait for him to wake.

Blaze steps back and shakes his head. “Fuck.”

“Exactly,” I groan.

“Well, you need to work out what you’re doing.”

The door pushes open, and Snow steps in. He’s the only other one who knows about this place other than Blaze.

“I found these.” Snow drops pictures and panties onto the floor.

Majority of those pictures are of Tanika, but a few are of Rochelle as well. Then I see ones where she’s showering, and the curtain is not fully shut.

“Marcus,” Blaze says, holding a photograph of Rochelle standing next to me. My arm’s holding Rochelle possessively, and there’s a look in her eyes that can only be described as love. She doesn’t look at me like that anymore. She looks at me as if I’m a need to be filled.

She’s lost in a world where I cannot pull her back from.

“Fuck,” Snow says, moving a photograph on the floor.

It’s one of Rochelle sleeping. He was inside her house? How the fuck was he in her house? Before I can stop myself, my saw is at Dave’s neck, and as he opens his eyes, I watch as the life drains from them.

“Fuck. Really, Marcus?” Blaze shakes his head, picking up all the photographs. “Burn these when you burn him.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Rochelle

“Oh, look, it’s you again.” I step back, my eyes narrow. Then I realize who it is. It’s hard because I don’t recognize her dressed in clothes.

The blonde.

The evil bitch.

Her cell phone dings, and she looks away from me then looks back with a smile. “Don’t recognize me?” she asks with a hand on her hip.

Kat looks to us both. I can tell she’s unaware of what’s going on. I should have avoided this place, and from now on I know I will. But our food is on its way, and it’s obvious the bitch works here. Just my luck.

“And you are?” Kat asks, clearly not happy being interrupted.

“I’m Marcus’ other girl… hasn’t this one told you?” blonde bitch says.

“No. No she hasn’t because clearly you aren’t relevant,” Kat fires back.

The blonde, whatever her name is, which I don’t really care, scrunches up her nose.

“Well, I was relevant to him the other night.”

It was two nights ago now, and I haven’t seen Marcus since.

“My guess is you’re here annoying us right now in an attempt to get Rochelle to bite. For what reason, I don’t know. Maybe you’re jealous? Who knows? But if you don’t go away, I will call your manager and get you the fuck fired,” my sister says, then shoos blonde bitch with her hand, to which she scrunches up her nose and turns, leaving us.

I smile at Kat, but she doesn’t return it. “Thanks.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. I want to know everything, and I want to know it now. So spill.”

I tell her about the blonde bitch, and Kat shakes her head.

“You didn’t ask him?”

“No.”

“What did you do?”

“I went to yours, then I went to him. Fucked him until I fell asleep.”

Kat’s hand goes to her mouth and she mumbles something I don’t quite hear. Then she says, “You fucked him? What the fuck is wrong with you? Wake up, Rochelle. Leave that fucking world you’re in and wake the hell up.” Kat stands and grabs my wrist, then starts walking toward the car. We don’t even eat, but she left some money on the table before she dragged me out. We get in her car, and I don’t question when she drives off. Kat stops at the cemetery, and I close my eyes.