Page 233 of Satan's Spawn
A better man.
“It was a long time ago, I’m fine.”
“Really?” The spunk is back in her voice, but I can’t tell if it’s playful or sarcastic. Either way it’s proving my previous point. “Says the guy who goes around mutilating pedophiles? Killing them?”
Okay, so it’s neither. What in the actual fuck?
My defenses go up like a steel gate, but I try my best to keep my voice leveled.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You really think I haven’t put two and two together?” She gulps. “Chopping off the dicks of pedophilic men? Slicing the lips off of the women? A friendly ‘666’ coincidentally being left on each of the victims?”
How the fuck does she know about my benders?
The authorities gave up investigating after two weeks, not really making it a priority to find justice for the child fuckers.
“You’re seriously reaching, Rebecca.” I shake my head and scoff, but there’s nerves trickling through, and it’s obvious.
“It’s why you reacted the way you did after I mentioned it at the waterway. It’s why you felt the need to leave.”
She is fucking maddening, yo.
“I think your meds are making you delusional.”
“They are not. In fact, I’m seeing things clearer than ever.”
Knowing she has the means to get me put away for the rest of my life, I bow out of the conversation and turn to take off.
Rebecca stops me with both words and her hand on my shoulder.
“I don’t care, Crayton. A part of me had a feeling it was you since the night of the dance. When Felix mentioned the 666 trademark and after I saw how brutal you were to him. It was a fit of exercised rage.”
I have to blink several times to digest what she’s saying before turning back around to face her.
Rebecca assumed I was a serial killer and has been spending every night with me regardless?
Well, shit. This angel’s got a little black on those wings.
When our gazes align, Rebecca’s hands wrap around mine, so small and fragile even behind gloves. “I won’t ever say anything about what you did, Crayton. I’d never risk losing you.”
I roll my neck, overwhelmed and a bit rattled by her confession. Mostly because I don’t know how the fuck to respond, which, luckily for this serial killer, I don’t have to.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to admit it. It’s probably safer this way anyway. Just know I know and I don’t care, that’s how crazy I am about you.”
Crazy is right.
But then again, it does take one to know one, and I’m a fucking lunatic for this girl.
My hands grip Rebecca’s cheeks so tight before pulling her in for a kiss, every single secret I wish she could know pouring out of me with each slip of my tongue.
Her demons dance with mine behind our lips, and I’ve never been as convinced as I am now that this girl would do anything for me.
Secrets to the grave.
Ride or die.
Loyal to the end.
