Darkly, Madly Duet

by Trisha Wolfe

“I like when you answer my questions.”

“Because seeking the answer on how to fix the sick and deviant is boring. You’re really seeking to understand why you’re so drawn to it. Which is far more interesting.”

Ours is not a love story—we’re too volatile, too explosive for monotony. No, our story comes with a warning.

“None of us are powerless. Choice is the most powerful thing in this world. Everyone has a choice.”

“Yet if you render your victims helpless, forced to make only the choices you provide them, then they’re not truly free to choose, are they?”

“I want to live. And I want you.”

Nothing stays the same. Change is the one constant you can depend on.

“Your lies don’t work on me. You feel everything I do.”

“Under your skin. I want to break you, so I can piece you back together.”

“Does that terrify you?” he asks. “Yes.” A cruel smile slants his mouth. “But you still want this.” I swallow. “Yes.”

My own design of love may be a twisted creature, but that creature is hungry and demands to be fed.

“It’s never over.” He positions himself between the door and me. “For this to be over, one of us has to die.”

“You’re mine, London. We can dance this violent dance until we bleed each other dry, or we can surrender. Your choice. But I will have you.”

“That monster born of sin and death died in a car wreck. She’s gone.” “Then it’s my mission to resurrect her.”

“I could never share you with another, London. I’m too selfish.”

do, Your Honor. I proclaim that Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”

Thirty years of killing with the law as his murder weapon. He’s a killer that uses the law to murder his victims, and he’s enjoying every moment of this—one last hurrah before the state abolishes capital punishment for good.

But before the world dims, there she is. Looking down at me. My angel of mercy to take away the pain.

Grayson and I share a connection…we’re bound together by some dark force…and yet I know we’re different. I’m better than him. I’m better because I’m stronger and I deserve to be the one to go on and to continue to help people. And for that to happen, he must be the one to fail.

She is my salvation. And I am her long-awaited consequence.

“Most women end up with men like their fathers. I used to judge them pretty harshly. I guess I’m no different.”

“Yes, London. I couldn’t have planned every detail of this without your help. I’m good. Damn good and yes, intelligent—but this was a complex strategy over a long period of time that needed all the right pieces to fall into place. You enabled us.”

“You’re many things, London. Demure isn’t one of them.”

“I hate you,” I whisper. “You hate everything but me.”

People don’t remember the good. They remember what guts them.”

Solitude reveals who we are. Isolation is not loneliness; it’s the absence of noise and distraction. It forces you to acknowledge your worth. If you must surround yourself with people, you invite distractions from the one person deserving of your time: you.

She’s my temple, and I want to kneel at her feet and worship.

We are perfection. And we are the fear that lurks beneath it.

“My sick matches your sick,” I whisper to him.

“But, Larry Fleming—” he glances down at the man “—really? That’s unfortunate.

this is actually my favorite line ever

“I’m in love with you, Grayson. I’m not incapable of love…I’ve just never been inspired before now. And I don’t want to be separated from you again.”

Love and obsession are so closely linked, the emotions evoked by obsession easily mistaken for love. And when obsession rules your world, you become a slave to its demands.

“Epiphany,” he repeats, a calm expression softening the sharp lines of his features. That rare dimple carves his cheek. “You were my epiphany.”

I was designed to kill…not love. She’s destroyed me.

I would suggest you were devolving. Becoming unbalanced. And yes, maybe a touch crazy.” She bites her bottom lip. “And you are not my patient.” “What am I, then?” I cross the room, coming up close enough to smell her lilac body lotion. The lavender notes in her hair. She visibly shivers as she looks up at me. “Dangerous.”

“It is if one enjoys puzzles.” I brush my lips across hers, the softest tease. “You’re my favorite puzzle, London.”

“Sometimes I forget you like your patients easy to control,” I say. “I suppose that goes for your men, too.”

“I see you,” I whisper against her lips. “I could feel your pain from fucking miles away. I know what you need.”

I drown out the world and its threats—the fear, the pain—with one kiss.

“I would never harm you.” I admire London’s intelligence too much to try to twist her in that way. “I just want to get to know Lydia. Understand this side of you. It’s important to me.”

“Everything I do, every single day, is a risk for you.”

“You like pinning me to desks,” I say, a taunt in my voice. That slight dimple carves his cheek, his rare, devilish smile making an appearance. “I love pinning you. Period.”

“You should think about a diet, old man.” I pocket the handcuff keys, thinking they’d look beautiful strung around London’s neck.

I’m a horrible driver.

REAL

London was my epiphany. It’s such a beautiful word. Epiphany. Just the sound of it, the taste of the syllables curling over your tongue, the puff of air across your lips. The moment the word is uttered, it’s like a striking realization descends, as if some powerful force beams sheer enlightenment into your head. And for a single moment, everything is clear.

From the moment I placed my hand in Grayson’s on that roof, everything has been my choice. I wondered when it was that the dynamic between us was established…and now I know. It was then. Right then. Amid our Folie à deux—our madness shared by two—I am the dominant. It has always been me.

Only I wanted it too badly—I’ve never wanted anything before her, never craved to be free until her golden-flecked eyes really saw me. And then she appears. My angel of mercy. Clearing the maddening fog.

“We’re a fucked-up kind of inevitability. Not fated. Doomed.”

“I’m not the hero, London,” I say. “But I’m not the villain, either.”

Which also makes him dangerous. He’s a man with nothing to lose.