Page 57 of Crawl
Cash rubs my shoulders, his musky, metallic scent swallowing me whole.
“If you don’t do it, I will,” Cash says, a chill in his words.
A numbness washes over my body. I watch myself go through each action, like a memory that keeps replaying in my mind. I’m not myself anymore. But I know I have to do it. I have to save girls like me.
But inside, I know I’m not that pure or righteous. Iwantto kill him.
My stepdad’s pale blue eyes, murky with guilt, look up at me. “I’m so sorry, Remmie,” he says.
My blood pressure spikes, my vision blurry.Sorry?He wants to say he’s sorry? He has no right to say that. He isn’t sorry. He’s sorry he finally got caught.
I stand behind my stepdad, but I quake with nerves, shock coursing through me. I fall to my knees, then I hold the knife in both hands, raising it up like a dagger.
“You fucking monster,” I howl.
The knife slips into the flesh of his back easily, like cutting through butter. My stepdad twists in pain, his desperate cries filling the room. But that doesn’t stop me. I do it again and again and again, for each of the times he’ll never be able to hurt another young girl like that. Blood splashes on me, but I don’t stop.I can’t.Not until I know for sure that he’s dead.
His body collapses. My hands tremble so hard that the knife rattles to the floor. I stare at my palms, completely soaked in blood. There’s blood on my cheeks, on my neck, drenching my clothes, and I’m cold and hot at the same time. My skin is burning, but I can’t stop myself from shivering. I look around, trying to find my breath, to determine if this is real or another dream. Bones perches in the doorway, licking her paws. She glances at me, then goes back to grooming herself. As if this is a normal occurrence. As if it’s not surprising that I would kill my stepdad.
Cash kneels beside me, then holds my hands.
“You are so brave. So fucking brave,” he says. “I’m so proud of you.”
My eyes flicker back and forth across his face, but his raw, hungry gaze scrutinizes me. Has he always seen this inside me? He brought my stepdad to me, but he gave me the knife and let me take care of the rest. He believes in me.
Cash holds my face, blood wetting his fingertips. I open my mouth, trying to force him to kiss me, to make the horror of my actions disappear, but he spins me around, holding me from behind, making me look at the corpse. His hands slide into my pants and underwear, his thumb circling my clit.
“Look at what you did,” his voice rumbles through me. “You killed a man. A man who hurt you. A man who hurt so many people. And he will never hurt you again.”
I shake my head, pressing my lips together, trying not to panic. This isn’t real. It can’t be. It’s a daydream.
But I know it’s real.
“I’m going to jail,” I whisper. Then a sudden giddiness sweeps over me. Someone is going to find out. My life is over. “I’m going to go to jail. Jail. Jail. Jail,” I laugh. My whole life will be gone soon. I’ll be taken away from Key West. From my mom. From Jenna.From Cash.These thoughts scare the hell out of me, but I laugh like a maniac, my body shivering, my hands icy cold.
Cash moves in front of me, blocking my view of the corpse, then he squeezes my throat until I stop laughing.
“Listen to me closely,” he says. “No one is going to jail. This isn’t the end for anyone,exceptthis piece of garbage.” He kicks the corpse, then wipes his fingers across my chin, the wet liquid, part blood, part come, smearing my face. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Remedy. I promise.”
A calmness, like a heavy, warm blanket, weighs down on me, because I believe him. I fucking believe everything Cash says. Cash told me he’ll do anything for me and he proved himself with his actions.
“No matter what happens,” Cash says, “We’re in this together.”
He yanks me to my feet, his thick, bumpy hands engulfing me. My weak knees shudder from the shock. But he holds me close, my stepdad’s blood staining his body.
“Come fuck me, Remedy,” he says. He strips, then sits on the sofa, his legs spread. Coarse hair darkens his thighs and those puffy pink scars decorate his chest like the sprouted eyes of a potato, but I want all of him. He fists his shaft, the head brutal and red, but his eyes never leave mine. “You are so damn hot.”
I touch my cheek. I’m covered in my stepdad’s blood.
Cash thinks I look good like this?
With each step forward, the numbness waves over me, but I go through the motions, taking off my clothes, blood smearing my body.
“Why don’t I feel bad?” I ask, my voice barely audible. I kneel on the sofa, straddling Cash, my calves pressed against his thick, hairy thighs. He’s warm where I’m cold and dead, and I want to dive inside of him until I can’t see or hear anything anymore. “All I want is to fuck you right now,” I say.
Cash growls, his primal words vibrating through me: “Next time you do it, it’ll feel good.”
A chill runs through my stomach, up to my throat. He’s so sure of himself, like he knows therewillbe a next time.
