back of my mind.
“I did it,” I mutter as Eli licks his lips and holds me steady on his lap. “I … killed him.”
“Who?” he asks, clutching my face with both hands. “Say his name.”
A single tear tumbles down my cheeks as my lips part, the depravity of my own actions breaking me in two. “Chris.”
Chapter 31
Amelia
Birthday night
After a long day of working in the library, I couldn’t go home. Not until I had emptied at least two bottles of wine. I didn’t mean to get drunk, but when you’re all by yourself and your birthday is celebrated by contemplating your relationship with your cheating boyfriend, that’s what happens.
I’ll have the biggest hangover tomorrow, but I don’t care even the slightest as long as I can bury my head in the sand. When I finally get home after the bartender kicked me out, I take a deep breath before I open the door as I’m expecting Chris to be waiting for me. I’m not looking forward to it, but I know we need to talk. So I shove my keys inside and throw my bag on the dresser.
“Chris?” I call out in my drunken voice.
But there’s no reply. Not even a sound.
Where is he?
I walk into the living room and come to a cold, hard stop.
There are clothes littered all around the apartment floor and furniture.
Women’s clothes.
I gulp.
No. No. This can’t be happening.
That kiss was a one-time thing, right?
He wouldn’t bring a woman into our home—our bedroom—right?
Suddenly, the door to the bedroom bursts open. Chris stands in the doorway, half-naked. A storm brews on his face, and the moment he sees me, it’s like a volcano erupted in his eyes. “You … You’re not supposed to be here.”
His nostrils flare, rage flooding his face.
Suddenly, he charges at me, and he shoves me all the way to the kitchen island, his hands wrapped around my throat.
It’s not the first bruise, or the first cut, or the first hit. But it’s the first real threat to my life.
Panic fills my veins, and I instantly go into fight or flight mode. I try to squeal, try to shove him off me, but it’s no use. He’s much stronger than I am, and my drunken body is unequipped to deal with the situation. I claw at his fingers, biting my own lip in the process, but nothing works, and I’m fading fast.
No time to think. No time to act.
“Chris …” His name is the last word that leaves my lips.
The last word before I grasp behind me, desperate to escape … And my hands find one of the knives from the wooden block.
And in one quick jab, I’ve lodged the blade right into his chest.
His hands lower as he stumbles away from me. I grasp my throat and inch away as he sinks to the floor. But something in my mind clicks. Something wicked. Something cruel.
And instead of running, instead of calling for help, I stay and watch him drown in his own blood.
Present
My lips feel icy cold against his as images of a cold-hearted bitch stabbing her own boyfriend to death spring into my mind. Memory after memory comes flooding back inside. Blood seeping from Chris’s wounds. Him falling to the ground like a bag of potatoes. Me not giving a single care in the world if he lived or if he died. And when I pulled that blade from his soft flesh, I smiled.
I actually smiled.
The one person who could hurt me, really hurt me, no longer could.
Because I hurt him instead.
I back away from Eli slowly as the tears spring into my eyes. “I … I …”
“Tell me what you did,” Eli murmurs, grabbing ahold of my face.
“I stabbed him,” I say, hiccupping. “I’m a murderer.”
“You killed him because he was going to kill you,” he says.
My eyes skid back and forth between him and the memories lodged deep inside. “Oh God, oh God.”
“Look at me, Amelia. Look at me.” Eli holds on tight, keeping me here in the moment. “Stay with me. Don’t lose yourself.”
“I can’t. I’m a killer. I did it. I … I … I’m a monster,” I mutter, unable to keep the weeping at bay. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He shushes me and pulls me into him, wrapping his arms around me so tight it feels like I’m suffocating. But it’s not the same kind of chokehold that Chris had on me. It’s a warm embrace, one filled with love and acceptance, one where I can let