A Love So Deadly
“I’m always falling.
In my dreams, I’ve taken that one wrong step a hundred thousand times, my subconscious mind struggling to go back to the moment I lost my last link to Gabe and rewrite history.
But even my dreams turn against me. Sometimes I make it down the stairs to the loft, only to trip on the stone path outside the front door to the cottage, and go tumbling down the hill. Sometimes I make it down the hill and into the car, only for the tires to skid on the rain-slick streets and send the car hurtling through the guardrail, into the sea.
Sometimes, I’m back in Pitt’s attic, strangling the life out of him, and the moment he dies, the cramps hit, ripping through my core, taking a life for a life, every wave of pain assuring me that monsters don’t live happily ever after. Murderers don’t get to have a baby with ten perfect fingers and toes. Murderers get pain and misery and blood for blood.
No matter how the dream plays out, the end is always the same. I am always on my back stari...ng up at the ceiling or the sky, with pain rocketing up and down my spine, agony fisting around my abdomen, and horrible, wet heat flowing between my legs.MoreLess
In my dreams, I’ve taken that one wrong step a hundred thousand times, my subconscious mind struggling to go back to the moment I lost my last link to Gabe and rewrite history.
But even my dreams turn against me. Sometimes I make it down the stairs to the loft, only to trip on the stone path outside the front door to the cottage, and go tumbling down the hill. Sometimes I make it down the hill and into the car, only for the tires to skid on the rain-slick streets and send the car hurtling through the guardrail, into the sea.
Sometimes, I’m back in Pitt’s attic, strangling the life out of him, and the moment he dies, the cramps hit, ripping through my core, taking a life for a life, every wave of pain assuring me that monsters don’t live happily ever after. Murderers don’t get to have a baby with ten perfect fingers and toes. Murderers get pain and misery and blood for blood.
No matter how the dream plays out, the end is always the same. I am always on my back stari...ng up at the ceiling or the sky, with pain rocketing up and down my spine, agony fisting around my abdomen, and horrible, wet heat flowing between my legs.MoreLess
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