Page 71 of Liar
No. There was no one he would not hurt, no one he wouldn’t kill. Some girls might swoon at a man like that, and maybe I would’ve when I was younger, more foolish. If I was a different person, the kind of girl who got swept up in serial killers and their violence, swooning over the blood and gore, maybe I would’ve weakened at his answer. After all, it took some kind of man to say he’d take on the entire world for you, that no one was off-limits.
But I wasn’t one of those girls. I didn’t watch crime documentaries and dream of my own serial killer. I had one, and it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I wasn’t that kind of girl, and I would never want someone who I knew was untrustworthy.
Will would keep killing. An obsession like his with Declan, with me, with protecting us, wouldn’t go away anytime soon. This had to end now.
“You won’t stop,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
Something softened in Will’s expression, like he knew this was it. The end of the road. He’d traveled down the one-way street to my heart, and now there was no way out of this. No way to turn around and redo the last six months. “I won’t,” he promised.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I told him, lowering the knife a few inches, taking a step closer to him. I didn’t want to hurt him, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t. Want and need were two very different things.
“Then don’t.”
“You tried to kill Sawyer the same way you killed Sabrina. I love him, Will.” Just like I love you, only, for whatever reason, I couldn’t say that part aloud. “Just like you, I protect the ones I love.”
“Ash, you don’t have to—” Will took a step towards me, but no other words escaped him, for I did not withdraw my arm. I held it firm. Fuck, maybe I even pushed a little. In the end, it didn’t matter, because the knife punctured his shirt and went into his upper stomach.
My mind did not flash back to that day in the cellar, to that day when I stabbed Ray and that girl. This time, my mind was solely focused on the blood pooling in the fabric facing me, and the pain written on Will’s face.
“I love you,” I said, tears welling in my eyes as we locked gazes. “But it stops here.” And then, before I could think any better of it, I pushed the knife in harder.
Maybe that made me just as bad as him. Maybe, by taking matters into my own hands, I was just as psychotic as the rest of them. Maybe I belonged with this psycho harem of broken, obsessed men. In the end, it didn’t matter, because what was done was done. I meant what I said when I said I protected the ones I loved, and right now, Will was nothing but a threat to everything I cared about.
Sabrina. Dean Briggs. Mrs. Briggs. Corey. Sawyer. Four people who died at the hands of Will, and another that almost died tonight. If this didn’t end here and now, there was no telling how high the count would go. There would be no sixteen guys to match Ray’s count of girls. I would not let any more bloodshed weigh on my shoulders.
Tonight was it. Will’s blood would be the last.
Will said nothing, staring at me with utter betrayal in his eyes. I pulled the knife back, yanking it out of his stomach, its stainless-steel edge coated in dark red. Blood dripped to the floor, more than half his shirt stained with it now. He stumbled back, tripping on the noose on the floor behind him, falling over as he reached for the wound on his stomach.
It was right then that Travis made his entrance, stepping out of the nearest bedroom and coming out of the hall. He took in the knife in my hand, along with Will’s pale, slowing form. He moved between us, his strong hand closing around mine. Travis spun me a bit, turning me away from Will, and he peeled the knife from my grip.
Travis set it on the table, and I turned my head over my shoulder, finding that Will’s form had stilled, his eyes closed. My heart caught in my throat, and the first full-fledged tear ran down my face.
Will was dead. I killed him.
Hands on my face forced me to turn to look at Travis, and I met those deep blue orbs through watery eyes. “I…” I couldn’t even speak, too choked up.
“Shh,” Travis shushed me, pulling my head into his chest. I felt his cheek lean against my head, his arms wrapping around my back, his warmth comforting in this cold, awful night. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
I tilted my head up to look at him, hardly able to see him through the tears. “How do you know that?”
Travis gave me one of his rare smiles. A quick, fleeting thing, but one that caused my gut to clench regardless. “Because I know,” he whispered, and then he brought his lips down to mine, kissing away my tears, my worries. Kissing away every terrible thing I’d done.
This was not the trip to Beacon Hills I wanted. This wasn’t what I wanted at all, and yet I felt so helpless. What other outcome was there? How else could this have changed? I couldn’t let Will go, couldn’t turn a blind eye to what he tried doing to Sawyer—and there was no way Sawyer could ever forgive him. And Declan…once he knew the truth, he wouldn’t forgive his brother, either.
There truly was no coming back from this for Will. This was always how this would end.
I let Travis kiss me long and slow, tried to tune out the world—at least, I did until I heard a door slam shut. The moment the sound entered my ears, I tore my mouth from Travis, and we both looked toward the door, but it wasn’t the door that caught my attention.
It was the lack of Will’s body near the noose on the floor that made my stomach harden and my tears dry up instantly. Nothing but a bloodstain.
Shit. He wasn’t dead.
“Stay here,” Travis muttered, heading towards the door.
Damn it. I knew it wasn’t the time to kiss anyone, not after stabbing Will. I should’ve made sure he was dead, should’ve double-checked. Double-tapped. Double-stabbed. Whatever. Now…unless Travis caught him—which he might, because how fast could a stabbed person run—he’d always be out there. Always watching. Always waiting.
Waiting to get another shot at me. To make me realize that he was the only one I needed. Him and Declan. That was what Will wanted, I knew without a doubt.
