Page 99 of Kiss Me Honey Hone

“No.” Aaron parked that worrying thought. Whodidthey use? “I get you’re angry. And hurt. And want to rid the world of the Howells. But whythosegirls?” He hoped the phone hadn’t switched off and was capturing all this. And that it was admissible in court or whatever loving fuck made it so Jack could arrest this man before anyone else got hurt. Physically and mentally.

“Because they were all likeher!” Peter’s scarred face twisted into a grotesque sneer. “Thought they were God’s gift. Flaunting their beauty, thinking nothing could touch them. Too stupid to realise how dangerous it is to kiss strangers.” He let out a manic laugh, jagged and unsettling, echoing through the cold, sterile lab. “All you students are the same. Come to university, throw yourselves around, kiss a few frogs before you find your prince. Well…” He turned sharply, rifling through his things on the countertop. “The frogs get a little pissed off with being thrown back in the pond.”

Aaron used the moment Peter had his back to him to slip his hand into his pocket, fingers fumbling for his phone. He tugged part of it out, the screen illuminating to show the failed Voice Notes.Shit.His heart thudded as he clicked into the recent calls and, muting the volume, he called Kenny before shoving the phone back.

Peter twisted again, facing him, a small tube in his hand, and he unscrewed the cap, eerily calm. Calculating.Scientific. Thenhe dipped his fingertip into the balm, a glint of something unhinged flashing in his eyes.

“Why did you come here?” Peter asked, head cocked.

“To help you.”

Peter laughed, tossing his head back. He then halted and looked at Aaron. “Okay. You can help me.” He smeared the substance across his fingers, the oily sheen catching the fluorescent light. Then handed the tube across to Aaron. “Not kissed a boy before.”

Aaron forced a weak laugh, brain scrambling for a way out. “Probably should stick to what you like, then, eh?” He inched backward, searching blindly for an opening in the partitioned section. “Can’t force sexuality.”

“Take it.” Peter waggled the balm. “If you’re a Howell, this is the perfect thing for you. Everyone will want to kiss you. Look at you! Perfect specimen. You could commit mass murder with that face! Won’t your mummy be proud?”

“I’m long since past craving my mother’s pride.” Aaron hit the partition. “And I sort of only really like kissing the one bloke at the moment.”

“Then we’ll have to put a stop to that.” Peter tutted. “This might be too easy. You came right to me!”

Aaron’s pulse raced, and sweat slicked his palms despite the chill in the room. “Yeah. I have a knack for getting myself into sticky situations.”

Then he found it—a gap. An escape. Aaron snuck through, quick but clumsy, adrenaline surging to make his limbs jittery. He stumbled into the main lab, the sterile expanse feeling more oppressive than ever, and the counters stretched out in gleaming rows, lit harshly by the blinking overhead lights. The smell of ethanol mixed with something sharper, acrid, clawing at his senses.

“Just don’t kiss anyone who isn’t me.”

Seemed an easy enough task. Aaron never wanted another person’s lips onhim except Kenny’s. Ever.

But Peter came for him.

His presence filled the room, like a predator stalking prey. “Where do you think you’re going?” he called, voice dripping with mockery. “You said you wanted to help. Sohelp!”

Aaron hit the long central bench, the edge biting into his thighs, and he searched for anything he could use as a weapon. Beakers, pipettes, a rack of test tubes. Nothing that would give him a real chance. Back to using his wits, it was, then.

“I meant get you some help. Therapy? Know a great doctor—”

Peter lurched forward, disfigured face twisting into something feral. “Therapy?” he spat, voice a jagged growl. “You think therapy can helpme? How is talking supposed to bring back my face? How is it supposed to make me forget what your darling mummy carved out of me? Talking doesn’t stop the way people look at me! Doesn’t make me stop wanting to burn her, and everything she ever loved, to the fucking ground!”

Aaron forced himself to hold Peter’s gaze, lifting his hands, palms out in surrender. “Hey, I get it. Believe me, I get it. Therapy sucks. It’s a nightmare. They dig into your guts and drag out every single feeling you’ve been trying to bury. They don’t give a fuck that you just want to forget. No, they make youremember. Make you pick at every scab, every scar, until it bleeds all over again.”

Peter’s eyes burned with a storm of fury and despair, threatening to consume him whole.

“It makes you weak.” Aaron’s voice cracked as he pressed on. Because hedidknow. Understood exactly what it was like to not want to feel. “It strips you bare, takes every ounce of strength you’ve fought to hold on to, and leaves you with nothing but pain. And it reminds you that you’re still human. When all you want is to be the monster. The monster who tears down the injustice, the cruelty, theevil.”

Peter stilled, a hint of hesitation breaking through the maskof rage. Aaron saw it—the crack in the armour. It was a knife’s edge, and Aaron knew he had to tread carefully. Or he’d fall on that blade.

“You thinkIdon’t want to scream?” Aaron punched his chest. “You think I don’t want to rip apart everything that reminds me of them? Of what they did? Of what I’ll always be because of them? But you can’t destroy yourself for them. Don’t let them win.”

Peter’s jaw clenched, balling his fists at his sides. “Easy for you to say. You weren’t the one they butchered. The one they left to crawl out of the woods like a fucking animal.”

“You’re right.” A tide of sorrow so consuming washed over Aaron, as though he were drowning, swallowed by the crushing depths of his despair. “But I’m still bleeding for them. Every single day.”

Peter stared at him, his rage faltering for a moment, replaced by an almost kinship. But it was fleeting. And the fire returned, burning brighter, fiercer, swallowing any shred of connection that might have existed.

“My mum, what she did? She’s a monster. You’re not like her. Killing me, or anyone else, won’t fix anything.”

Peter’s lips curled into a grotesque smirk. “It’s not about fixing anything. It’s about balance. The world needs balance.”

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