Page 58 of Executing Malice
I rock on my hunches. Heel toe. Heel toe. Palms crush my skull as the pounding rises to fill my ears with the screamingof pain. I squeeze until I see stars and still the voices roar. All of them ugly and mine.
You’re a monster. She saw it.
You ruined it. Just like before.
No one will ever love you.
She’s never coming back.
You don’t deserve her.
But ... she’s mine.
She can’t leave me.
Not again. Not this time. If she walks away, I’ll be nothing all over again. I’ll die. Not metaphorically. I have no other reason to live.
I fall to my knees against the floorboards just over where Leila is getting ready for bed. Where she’s brushing her teeth and smearing my cum on her face.
She doesn’t get to leave me. Not again. She can beg and scream, and threaten to kill me, but I would rather die than live another second without her.
She doesn’t understand that. Or maybe, she doesn’t care. But I’m not letting her go. She’s going to learn to love me.
No matter what I have to do to convince her.
I shove to my feet and move to the makeshift table in the corner and lift my next gift. I examine the contents. Smile to myself.
My pretty girl is going to be mine.
I’ll win her over.
We have seven days, after all. Seven more gifts as tokens of my eternal devotion to her. To us. I will prove to her that she needs me. That I am the only man alive who will kill for her. Who has blood on his hands for her.
Tonight, I’ll let her rest. Let her think she’s safe.
Tomorrow, the games continue as scheduled.
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I leave her gift on the porch with a wild dandelion placed on top.
I set it on the porch beam like the candy apple, directly in view so she can’t miss the sunlight glinting off the glass.
It does dawn on me that maybe this is too much, that maybe, I’m going too far, but an act of love is an act of love. It’s proof of my commitment. Leila will get it. She’ll understand.
But maybe I should have left a note...
Abandoning the idea, I start the walk to my bike. The air is colder. Crisper. There’s a nip that has me tugging my jacket together and zipping it up. My boots crunch on leaves and twigsas I wander through the trees, admiring the early morning sun glinting through the knotted branches.
I think maybe I’ll make this a thing. Early morning walks. Maybe I can convince Leila to come with me. It’s so quiet and peaceful. I think she’d like it. We could walk to town, hand in hand, and grab coffee before I drop her off at work — if she still wants to work. We could take the baby for morning walks when we have one. Take it pumpkin picking and building leaf piles to jump in.
I’m unsure just how many I’d like. Definitely one for sure. Maybe two. I’ll let Leila decide on the rest.
I exhale the lungful of cool autumn and redirect my thoughts to the bigger problem at hand — convincing Leila she belongs with me.
I didn’t do a very good job of that yesterday, but I’m going to prove to her that this isn’t a prank. I’m not joking or using her. I am fully dedicated to our future. I will see this through.
