Heartless People

TWO

Murder is like potato chips: you cant stop with just one.

—Stephen King

MINA

"Are you okay?" Chris whispered into my ear as we danced for the tenth time.

I couldn't answer. I could only hold onto him. I gripped him so tightly, you would think this was the last time we would be together.

I had to tell him, but I was so scared. I was scared of what he would think, which was stupid, really. Chris was a murderer, and now, I was too. But he liked the fact that my hands were clean. He always said he wasn't good enough for me, but it was the other way around.

The one thing that I had—my bloodless slate—was gone. What bothered me was how happy I was to pull that trigger. I wanted to kill that animal. It replayed over and over again in my mind.

Matt and the rest were like targets, and I had taken one down and was ready to move on to the next.

I was ready to kill again.

I wanted to kill again.

It was wrong, but it was justice, my justice, just like Camila  had said. I felt like I had been in the dark for so long, locked away from the rest of the world, and now I was a step closer to being free; to running wild with the other monsters.

"I killed a man tonight, Chris" I whispered as we danced, and I felt him freeze.

He pulled back and his hazel eyes stared into mine, as if he would be able to tell from just looking at me. He frowned before pulling me away from the dance floor. He didn't speak¸ yet somehow, everyone knew to get out his way. He didn't stop until we were outside with the driver.

"Mr. Jauregui."

"Keys," he snapped at the man. "NOW!"

The man checked all over himself before grabbing the keys and handing them to Chris. Opening the door for me, he slammed it shut before sitting in the drivers seat. When they said zero to sixty in
three seconds, they weren't kidding. He slammed down on the gas so hard you would think we were drag racing.

"Say something Chris, please," I begged him.

He didn't. He just sat, rubbing his lip with the back of his thumb as he drove further and further down the road. Déjà vu, I thought as I looked out into the night sky.

He only stopped when we were in front of the mansion. Sighing, he leaned back against the seat. "I'm going to figure a way to get you out," he whispered, taking my hand.

"What?"

He kissed my hand. "I thought if we just laid low, if we did what they asked, then eventually we would all learn to live with one another. But they keep crossing the line! Camila had no right to force
you to do anything involving the business. She's morphed Lucy into this bloodthirsty kitten over the last few months, and now she's trying to fuck with you. I may not be able to kill her, but I will protect
you. I will not have her corrupt you any more than I already do on a daily basis. Shes crossed the fucking line!"

I don't deserve him.

"She was helping me," I whispered, trying my best fight back the tears that were forming, but it was in vain; it burned as they blinded me.

"Helping you?" he snapped. "This is how she helps you? She makes everyone into a monster so she can feel better about herself. She's sick!"

"She is Helping!" I yelled back, wiping my eyes.

Just rip off the bandage.

"I was..." I stammered, "I killed one of the men who raped me. I shot him, until there were no bullets left. I got a tire iron and smashed his head, over and over again. Then Camila helped me throw his body off the cliff and change my clothes. I'd do it again. I will do it again! She was helping me! Shes helped me get rid of one of my demons, Chris."

It all came out as he stared at me, as if he didn't know what to say or where to start.

"You were..."  He couldn't even it say it.

"Raped. R-A-P-E-D. I was forced into a room by a group of assholes in college and raped again and again and again before they got tired of me and left. I think about it daily, and I hate myself. I
was raped. No one knew. Not you, not Clara. Not my even my parents."

"But you told Camila?" He was trying to stay calm, but he was shaking as much as I was.

"She makes you talk!" I said. "You look into her eyes and you know she can walk into the darkest part of your mind and still manage to smile for a photo. I don't  know why I told her. I was trying to bow to the fucking queen like you said. I wanted her to
understand! She did. She understood better than anyone else. She found one of them."

"I could have done that! he roared at me. I would have gladly done worse than that five years ago when I married you! I don't understand why you didn't tell me!"

"Because I was ashamed, because I wanted to deny it, because you would have killed them." I stopped, thinking about the last part.

"I needed to kill them myself."

That was what I needed.

We sat there, tense, for what seemed like hours, just staring at the house.

"Next time, bash their heads in while they're alive and then shoot them," Chris whispered. "The longer they suffer, the better." He took my hand again.

The stupid tears wouldn't go away.

"Okay," was all I could think to say.

"And I will be there when we find the others."

"Okay."

"I'm staying. I love you, and you can tell me anything, always. I'm going to be there, and Camil can go screw herself."

"I love you too. And I'm going to tell her you said that."

He paled, and I wanted to have that effect on men one day even my husband.

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