The Death of Us

by C.A. Mariah

And here I offer you a tale as old as time. A love like no other. A beautiful romance written in blood.

"We'll survive, you and I." F. Scott Fitzgerald

“I don’t want you to tell the world we weren’t monsters. We were.” “Then what do you want?” Leaning close enough for me to catch the faint whiff of blood and mint on her breath, Bunny looks me dead in the eye, keeping me prisoner just as much as her. “I want you to tell them why.”

Life has taught me on more than one occasion that if the world deems you pretty, you have to sleep with one eye open. There’s always someone lurking in the shadows, just waiting for the opportunity to make you hurt.

For you, Missy. I’m doing this for you.

“Why, after all these years, bring back the death penalty for me? I’m not the worst. There have been hundreds before and after me that have done more damage, and yet, here we are, waiting for my death—my execution. Isn’t that odd? To go through all this for one girl?”

“Why am I doing this to you, my dear? Why, it’s so simple.” Closing the gap between us, he presses his lips to my wet skin. “Because you made it easy.”

What men never seem to understand is acting out of pride makes you sloppy, less careful about accuracy, and more interested in proving a point.

That smile. Something about it holds me close. It touches an undisturbed section of my soul and doesn’t let go.

“What’s your name?” he asks, drowning me in the soft blues of his gaze. I wanted to keep that close. I wanted to deny him everything, but in this moment⁠— “Bunny.” I know he’ll keep it safe.

It isn’t butterflies I feel when that touch glides to the back, pressing against the curve in my spine. Butterflies would be too kind. Instead, I feel the heat that burns in his gaze. It penetrates far past my bones, becoming the substance that makes up my marrow. I feel his touch in the deepest part of me, as if I’ve felt him in another life.

Trusting me as I did him, he finally says, “Cade.”

“Fuck, and you know, maybe we were. Maybe we lost our senses. Maybe we were just two kids desperate for something other than darkness…but we found it. In that moment, we found a light that had been stripped from our lives.”

“What happened that night?” She smiles. “I fell in love.”

The more the story unfolds, the less I see the monsters that graced the covers of the New York Times. The longer I sit here, gazing into the eyes of a killer, the more I see a child who went through hell.

“Bunny.” My name is a prayer on his lips, a promise that flows between us. He touches me then, just a slight brush of his fingertip on mine through the links, but it’s as heavy as it was in the room, packed with need. I hold on to that touch until a hand wraps around my throat. “Fight!” I shriek through my burning vocal cords, yanked away by Marone’s tightened hand.

“Fool,” I believe Marone chuckles, convinced Cade can’t get over the top, but he didn’t see the look in his eyes; he doesn’t know the rage in his soul, and he didn’t feel the fury oozing through Cade’s flesh. He laughs. Then Cade is on the ground before me. Marone isn’t laughing now.

“Never again,” he promises. “I’ll never let you bleed again.”

but I can’t leave her without a goodbye. Tenderly, I brush my fingers over her pale, ghostly face, whispering all the comforting things she made me feel in this hell. “I couldn’t have survived without you.” She deserves to rest now. So, I close her lids, hiding the tears that dried on her irises. I press my lips to her forehead as the doors open. “You’re safe now,” are my parting words before I leave her forever.

“I got out because of you, Bun,” he mutters, just before I close the door, holding me hostage in his throaty sorrows. I turn, but only slightly, enough to gaze at his rigid, weighed-down posture. His blazing blue eyes find me watching, and he traps me in those, too. “I didn’t—” I begin to say, instantly silenced when he storms to me. “You lit a fire under my ass.” He smirks, a low husk in his tone. “I got out because of you, and I’m going to make sure I thank you for that every day I’m free.”

Cade leaves me tucked inside warmth and safety before he disappears into the bathroom himself and releases a few screams of his own. That’s how I fall asleep…to the roaring of screams that have started to sound like home.

A part of me feels foolish for it, that there’s no way this could be love, but when I shift to glance up, gazing at his wondrous eyes, and he drops his lips onto mine, I know it can only be that. It can’t be anything but.

“Tell her, or I’ll slice her from ear to ear.” “You don’t have the fucking balls!” Oh. Well…that was the wrong thing to say.

One down, I smile.

“On my life.” It’s a promise he meant literally, I learned eventually. A promise he truly kept…until the end.

“You sure she’s a part of it?” Cade asks, a pinch of concern between his brows. I can understand his doubt. I mean, men, I know. They do vile and wicked shit to children every day, but women? We’re supposed to be the nurturers. The guides. The backbone of civilization. Women aren’t supposed to be cruel. Women aren’t supposed to cause pain. Women aren’t supposed to be monsters. But that one is.

“Take this as a lesson, baby girl. Never chase a man. You’ll suffer for it every time.”

“You’ve given me everything.” It’s as close to I love you as I’ve ever gotten to saying, and the biggest thank you I can squeeze out through my strangled throat, and it's not enough. There are no words or actions that could even come close to repaying what he’s done for me—what we’ve done together, for each other.

“I would have done it for you anyway, Bun. I would do anything.”

I prefer to think of us as something better than a hero. Heroes are selfish, only doing good in the brightness of the day, where everyone can see their righteous deeds. The mayor is a hero, doing all he can for those foster kids in front of the cameras while leaving them soulless at night. We are not heroes. I will never allow us to be put in the same category.

“I have money!” he throws out carelessly when he can’t escape my glare, expecting me to fold for something as silly as paper. I wonder, though, how many girls did that work on? How many has he needed to pay off for their silence? I’ll act in their favor. I’ll fight for us all.

a man who feels he has nothing to fear hides from no one.

Marone presses on. “What would you do to save her?” The answer is instant. “Anything.”

I can see the goodbye drowning in his tears, the apology pouring down his beautiful face—the I love you across his lips.

“I love you, Cade.” Until the end, I can still hear him say. Until the end.

“I can go now,” are her last words, and she goes with a smile, finally resting with her other half.

Soon, I tell myself before hiding the photo in my uniform, tucked protectively against my chest. Soon, I’ll be with you again.

I could breathe. For the first time in decades, I could breathe. And when I did, I saw him there, that beautiful smile, waiting for me. I love you. Until the end.

I can handle my pain, but yours is one I can’t survive.

I love you, Bun. I don’t know when I’ll find the nerve to say it, but I do. I love you, Bunny. Until the end.