Page 46 of Cut Me Down

“You really like her? She’s really everything you thought she’d be?” I answer him, without hesitation.

“Absolutely.” He stares back at me for a few moments before both of our phone’s buzz with notifications. We both pick up our phones, as if in sync, and quickly read the clean-up notification for a spot on the edge of downtown. Carter types the notes in before responding about calling it in to the police.

“Have you told her about Cooper’s connection to Dust yet?” I shake my head and lean back in my chair.

“No. I haven’t. I don’t want to say anything until we know more. She’ll just get scared if we don’t have all of the information.”

“She’ll be mad if you wait too long to tell her.” He looks up from his phone to glare at me. “I may not be as sexually active as you, but I have way more experience when it comes to relationships. Girls get mad when we hide shit.”

“Well, add that to list of everything else she’s mad about.” His eyes widen slightly.

“Oh, so she is mad at you? I take it Mel wasn’t the only one to give you a hard time about that large payment?” I hold my hand up and flip him off before taking another drag from my cigarette.

“She’s mad at the world. I can’t say I blame her.”

“Yeah.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Fuck, those photos…” A deep sense of dread and anger erupts in my gut. Is that what he sees when I talk about her? Her past, her trauma, her scars? Is he so surface level that he doesn’t see what I do and can't look past them? If, or when, she sees him again, if that’s how he looks at her, she’ll know it in a heartbeat and become nervous and embarrassed around him, and I can’t have her feeling that way. I lean in close, bracing myself with one hand gripping the edges of the table.

“Don’t you ever let her know that you know about what happened to her.” I say sternly and stare at him like my look alone could kill him. He shakes his head.

“No. Never. That’s much too personal.” We’re silent again for a moment and my mind begins to wander to memories of this morning. She was in the shower. Singing to herself quietly. Clearly not wanting me to hear, but I couldn’t help but stand in the doorway and listen. Then, once I went to hop in with her, what I saw rattled me a little. She was staring at the wall like she was deep in thought, almost as if she didn’t even realize she was singing. Her gaze was blank and unmoving, like whatever memory she was trapped in locked her inside. The moment I stepped under the water she flinched, as if she expected me to grab her up and start swinging my fist at her.

It broke my heart to see her like that. Even after the initial shock wore off and her face softened, I didn’t even need to feel her chest to see how hard her heart was pounding. Was she thinking of Cooper? What was her mind so tuned into in that shower? I wanted to ask, but held back. Not wanting to push her any further than necessary, but looking back now, I regret it.

I want to know everything. Every snip of information that I couldn’t read or find. Every single moment of pain she had to endure. I want to know how her brain works. Where her memories surface from and what triggers them. It’s going to be a long, messy journey to free her mind, but if I'm anything but stubborn, I'm also determined. I just hope I can crawl into the voided spaces of her mind without breaking her completely.

“I think she’s afraid of me.” I say softly, hating to admit that out loud.

“Well, not to sound like an ass, D, but yeah. She has every reason to be. You shot her ex in the head, literally right in front of her. You stalked her for weeks and have killed two other people just because they threatened her.” I stick my hand out and point upward to insert my rebuttal.

“To be fair, she only knows about one of those.” He scoffs.

“Not the point, man.”

“I would never hurt her.” I stare at him intensely. Looking into his eyes to make sure he knows I'm telling the truth. Hoping that he’ll see the verity in my gaze.

“I know that, but she doesn’t. Right now, all she knows about you is that you run a vigilante organization, you’ve been stalking her, and that you kill people almost every day. If you want to win her over, you need to be YOU. Be yourself. If you two are really supposed to be this fated couple like you believe, then that’s all you need to do. The fact that she didn’t run to the police the night you killed Cooper is astonishing.” I shake my head frantically, not wanting to believe that I might be wrong, and that I've done nothing but terrify an innocent woman.

“She won’t. She feels something for me too. She just has to let herself.” I take a deep breath, and finally read through the rest of Emmett’s information before handing it back to Carter. “I'll get his contract ready and talk to him in the next few days. Keep those in his file for me?” He nods and takes the stack while I take the opportunity to pace the rooftop.

The usual noises from the city flood my ears. Car horns and engines running, emergency vehicle sirens, thumping from nearby bars, and groups of people talking on the streets floods my ears. Though, that's not what I watch and listen for. It’s the out of place. The squeals from women that don’t have underlying amusement, the shuffles of unsteady movements like one would see in a struggle, and the too quiet and shifty figures that slither their way in the dark to get their next fix.

I have men patrolling the streets, but we don't catch everything. When an incident is reported to 911 dispatchers, we only have a few minutes at most to intervene and handle it ourselves if need be. So, we try to catch the crimes before they're reported, and then either report them ourselves once they’re handled, or kill them if necessary. There’s so much in this city that gets passed over or excused, that it’s not often we can trust the local PD to handle anything.

As I'm deep in thought, movement from the alleyway across the street grabs my attention. My head snaps to pinpoint the movement at the sound of a scared yelp, drawing my gaze to a younger woman, probably late twenties from what I can see. A dark figure, in the blocky shape of an average man, obstructs most of my view of her, and is clearly holding her against the brick wall of the alley. Not alargeman from what I can tell from here, but bigger than her, and for most women that’s all it takes to become a victim.

The unmistakable glint of steal shines from the moon light, and I watch as he moves a gun from his side to her head. Her eyes widen so much that I can see the whites of them from here. That is, before she slams her eyes shut and looks away as he forces her skirt up to her hips. My blood immediately begins to boil and I can feel the anger vibrate my spine.

I storm back over to the table. Glancing up at Carter as he continues to work on his phone. Most likely coordinating with our men as I grab my rifle and walk back over to the edge of the roofline. I lift my weapon and peer through the scope. Making sure I have a clean shot before I lock my stance into place. The angle I'm standing at is a little awkward, but I need to be sure I have the right vantage point. Because the moment he moves his head just right, his brains are going to pain the concrete.

“Carter, call in a 911 dispatch for the alleyway at North-East twelfth street and Elm.”

“You got it.” He says blankly and precisely. Like any other command I give him. I adjust my stance slightly, shifting my weight appropriately between both feet and wait for the man to move his head away enough from the woman. “Wait, that’s across the street.” He says, now confused, and I can feel the weight of his stare on the back of my head. The rapist moves his head back just enough so I won’t hit the woman, and it’s like my body launches it’s own small rush of adrenaline.

“Yep.” I pull the trigger and watch as the man falls to ground.

Chapter eighteen

Ashia

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