Page 112 of Killing Me Softly

And again.

Squelch.

Wet.

Warm.

The blade struck home over and over, until Mable’s screams turned into gurgles, until her struggling became twitches, until her body sagged beneath Mel, jerking with the aftershocks of violence. Panting, Mel collapsed forward, forehead on Mable’s bloodied shoulder, and heaved.

Aaron could hear his own breathing, Kenny’s ragged gasps, the faint hiss of the gramophone still spinning in the background—“Be my baby…”

Mel lifted her head, strands of blood-matted hair sticking to her face. Her eyes met Aaron’s. For a second, neither of them moved. Then her bloodstained lips curved into an exhausted, broken victory.

“Crazybitch!” she rasped, voice shredded, before she slumped forward. “Why do I always swipe right on the fuckingpsychos!”

Aaron made a strangled noise in his throat, a desperate, broken sound, and Mel snapped back to life. With the last of her strength, she dragged herself toward him, bloodied hands fumbling with the knife, slicing through the ropes binding his arms. The second the restraints gave way, she collapsed, hitting the floor with a groan.

Mable was dead.

And Mel…Melhad fucking saved them all.

She spat on the floor. “Least she was right about one thing. No one ever suspects the girl.”

Aaron ripped the gag from his mouth, gasping in air, hands already moving to untie his legs. His fingers shook, untying the knots, but the moment he was free, he was on his feet—no, falling forward—his body still numb from the tight hold of the ropes.

“Kenny!” Aaron’s voice cracked as he stumbled across the warehouse. “Kenny!”

Kenny slumped in the chair, head tilted, chest rising in weak, shallow breaths. Blood soaked his shirt, seeping into the fabric,too much blood,too fast, and Aaron’s heart lurched.

“No, no,no—” He fell to his knees, hands already moving, lifting Kenny’s head. “Kenny, please, fucking please—!”

Hands drenched in blood, he pressed them against the deep gash on Kenny’s chest, trying to hold him together. Behind him, Mel stirred, groaning.

“Mel!” Aaron pressed harder into Kenny’s wound. “Get a fucking ambulance!Now!”

Mel fumbled for something—Mable’s knife, maybe, or a phone—Aaron didn’t care, couldn’t focus, couldn’t do anything except keep Kenny here.

He tended to the knots on Kenny’s wrists, ripping the ropes loose, dragging him off the chair, then cradling him to his chest. He tore his hoodie off in one wild movement, bunching it up andslamming it over the wound, applying pressure. Kenny’s body jerked at the contact, and he let out a low, pained groan.

“Don’t you fucking dare die on me, doc. Don’t you fuckingdare.”

Kenny’s eyes fluttered, barely open, the deep brown dulled, unfocused, lost somewhere between consciousness and the void. His lips parted, breath shallow, fragile, hardly there.

Then, in a voice so weak Aaron almost wasn’t sure he heard it, Kenny whispered,“Yes, I still love you, baby.”

Aaron drowned everything else out but those words. Kenny’s voice had never sounded like that before. Fragile. Final. As though it was a confession and a goodbye wrapped into one. And if these were his last thoughts, if this was the last thing Kenny needed him to know before sliding away into whatever came next, it was that even in the face of death, blood, destruction…

Even now.He still loved him.

“Don’t…” Aaron’s throat burned. “Don’t say it like it’s the last fucking thing you say to me!” He pressed his jumper harder against Kenny’s wound, holding him tighter, refusing to let him go. “I need you to lecture me,” he choked, his voice breaking. “Tell me how fuckingstupidI am. Beangrywith me. I need you to beyou, Kenny.” His grip tightened, dropping his forehead to Kenny’s, tears mixing with the blood between them. “I need you,lover. I fuckingneedyou.”

Kenny’s fingers twitched against Aaron’s arm, the smallest, weakest movement, but it was something.

Aaron sobbed.

And outside, in the distance, sirens wailed.

Chapter twenty-two

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