Page 148 of My Skin Begs You Please

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“No. But I need to show you something.”

Grabbing the coat from the counter where I’d tossed it, I handed it over. His fingers trembled as he turned the coat inside out, revealing an inner pocket. He unzipped it and pulled out a small, handheld microcassette recorder. “I don’t know if it worked. I haven’t listened.”

I smoothed his wet hair off his forehead and pulled a chair up next to his. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I met Kyle tonight.”

My stomach flipped hard, and I thought I might vomit.

“But nothing happened,” he said, putting out his hand to reassure me. His voice shook. “I swear.”

I nodded. “I believe you.”

“I mean, nothing happenedphysically. This…this happened.” He pressed rewind on the microcassette. “If it worked.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and bit into his lower lip as therecorder buzzed in his hand. “God, I hope it worked.” The recorder clicked off.

“Baby—”

“Shh, listen.” He pressed play, and at first, I heard only muffled footsteps and the rushing noise of what sounded like Minty’s own breathing. But then I heard Kyle’s voice.

Hey.

Hey.That was Minty.

And then Kyle again.Thanks for coming. Can we talk down there? It’s more private.

Minty’s breath came in faster and faster, nearly hyperventilating as he listened to the tape. He took hold of my hands and held them so tightly it hurt, but I didn’t pull away. As the conversation unspooled from the recorder, my nostrils flared, my eyes went wide, and I had to swallow vomit that crawled up my throat.

“Holy fucking shit,” I whispered when Minty reached out with a shaking hand to cut the tape. “Baby…baby…oh, my God.”

“He needs help,” Minty whispered. “He’s going to hurt someone. He’s going to hurtme.”

“Fuck.” I grabbed him close, breathing in his sweaty scent from his running escape, and the hour and a half long drive he’d made to my parents’ house. I had so many questions, like how he’d known the way here, like why he’d risked so much for this tape, and what the fuck he meant by saying that Kyle needed help. He needed prison! But I couldn’t put any of that into words. I simply clutched him tightly and breathed him in. He was here, he was safe with me. He hadn’t gone to that house of horrors with that psycho. Thank God. Thank fucking God.

“What do we do?” Minty asked, once he finally broke free of my clinging grasp. “He’s not okay.” He tapped his head. “Up here.”

“No, he’s a psychopath or… worse. He’s not safe. Not for you. Not for other people on campus. Not for anyone. We need to go to the police,” I said, stroking Minty’s hair.

“I don’t want him to go to jail,” Minty whispered, his eyes wide. “I want him to get help. He needs serious help.”

“What he’s saying on this tape here? It’s a confession that he wants to murder you. That he gets off on the idea of that. That he’s delusional enough to think you’d want him to.”

“I know. I just…” Minty struggled with his words, and then pushed on. “I made him this way, you know?”

“Baby, no—”

“I kept going back for more. I did this to him. It’s my fault he’s gone this far.”

“Minty, Kyle was always like this, believe me. He’s probably hurt other people.”

“I goaded him into hurting me! I wanted him to! Don’t you get it?” Minty choked out, “I was a god, and he was helpless to resist me.”

“Fucking hell, baby.” Minty thought Kyle needed help? Minty needed help too. Desperately.

Minty went on, “He wanted to take me apart, and fuck me to death, and kill me over a period of days or weeks because he can’t say no to me. He can’t stop wanting me. I rule his thoughts, his desires. Everything. I rule hislife. He’s willing to kill me to get me out of his head. And a tiny part of mewantedhim to kill me.”

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