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“What God? Tonight, you only scream and cry for me. No God will bear witness to what I make of you.”
“Why are you still here?” I ask, not sounding as cruel as I was going for. The corner of his lip kicks up and he sets a hand on the wall behind me. “No one’s kicked me out before and I didn’t like it.”
“You fucking masochist. I knew you liked when I carved you up. Your thighs were hot and rubbing beneath me. Is that why you won’t go? Because I keep feeding your sickness?” His voice is hoarse. I know a crumbling man when I see one.
I’m going straight to hell when I die. For all the death on my hands. Further down, if there is something lower than hell, for what I’m about to do with the devil.
Hatred and desire aren’t so different. Both are an obsessive, all-consuming emotion. It’s a thin line to walk on. And God, is it easy to fuck someone you hate.
Bradshaw doesn’t bother looking up at me. I let my eyes fall to him once more before we part ways. The next time I see him, it better be through a scope as I’m shooting a mock bullet at his fucking face.
“Easy killer, it’s just your favorite fuck boy.”
“Do you know how to break a man? I mean really break him.” I remember Jenkins’s words clearly. I was still newer to the dark forces then, eighteen. I shook my head. “No.” Jenkins guided my hand across his chest and placed it over his heart. “You make him trust you, make him need you, and then you take it all away.”
“What kind of bullet?” I ask, brows pinching. A black one.
Sleep my bunny, your next breath is not promised.
She’s fucking good at killing men like me.
“Together, our broken pieces can do anything.”
“Careful who you let hold your heart, Gallows. There are wolves out there. You know the saying, right? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I’ll bury you.”
“It’s the monster in me,” I manage to say between hushed moans. His brow raises. “That craves the one in you.”