54. Love Grows （Where My Rosemary Goes）

54

LOVE GROWS (WHERE MY ROSEMARY GOES)

LESTER

By the time I've made it to Montgomery, I feel like I've died and come alive again about a hundred times. I haven't been this scared since I was a little boy. If Daisy gets hurt, I'll never forgive myself.

Loud screams come out of the rotten barn and my heart shatters into a million tiny fragments, because I recognize them. Gun in hand, I run to the abandoned shed and burst through the door. It takes me a few seconds to comprehend what I'm seeing, because the sight is simply too shocking.

"Lester," Daisy cries out as soon as she sees me. Despite the horrific sight before me, I do see relief wash over her face, as if she knows now that I'm here, she'll be safe.

She's strung up by her arms on the exact spot where I held Warren Albrecht a few years ago, and there's a large pool of blood growing beneath her, taking over the original stain that seeped deep into the floor. A large piece of skin hangs loose from her left thigh, exposing red and pink flesh.

I try my hardest to quickly reassemble my being, because I'm going to need to be strong enough to get her out of here.

"How do you like my masterpiece so far, Sculptor of Death?" a familiar voice asks, and my eyes shoot to where it's coming from. Behind Daisy, in a dark corner of the barn, stands my childhood friend.

"Rosemary," I say, mustering all the fortitude and making my voice loud and stern. My first instinct is to shoot, but she's too quick and manages to duck away as my bullet hits a wooden beam instead.

She wraps herself around Daisy's backside, a knife placed against her throat. "Don't you fucking try it, Lester. You're going to listen to what I have to say or I will slit your little fucktoy's throat."

Daisy's face is as white as a ghost, sweat glossing her skin. Her dark eyes are bloodshot, and if I don't handle this soon, her body might be going into shock. I can tell that she's drugged up, which is why she's shivering instead of writhing in pain. That's a good thing for now, because as soon as the paralyzing substance wears off, the pain will be excruciating.

"Then talk," I grunt, aiming the gun at her head. She's so close to Daisy that I can't get a good shot without risking my little nymph's life, so that's not an option.

"Not until you put the gun away. Let's have a civilized conversation, Chipmunk. Best case scenario, you'll hold me like you used to do. But I guess that's not in the cards today, huh?"

"We could've had a civilized conversation if you just came to me," I spit out. "I would've embraced you wholeheartedly. I would've been ecstatic that you were alive. Done everything in my power to help you heal and start a new life. But you threw that chance out of the window as soon as you tried to take the only person I've ever truly loved."

Her face distorts, a mixture of pain and anger flashing over it. "You loved me. I know you did."

"I don't think we were ever in a place to fall in love, were we? All our lives were filled with was fear."

"I loved you. I still do," she chokes out. "But you moved on. You forgot about me." She suddenly screeches, her eyes widening into round marbles. "Now put the fucking gun away!"

I do as she says, slowly placing the weapon on the ground, sliding it away with my foot as I hold up my hands. "I grieved you for years. I killed them all, you know? Your parents, all the men who raped you. Don't you dare say that I forgot about you, after all of that. It destroyed me. It fucking tore me apart."

My eyes keep flashing between Daisy and Rosemary, and liquid fire floods through my veins when Daisy's eyes flutter and fall closed as she passes out. Rosemary pulls the knife away from her throat, but still clutches it tightly in her hand.

"Tell me what happened to you," I say, sweat trailing down my forehead as I slowly stalk closer. "I saw you die, Bunny."

"I told you. I didn't die. But I wish I had." Dried blood stains her forehead, and with each step I take closer to her, I see my childhood friend flash over her face like a television screen zapping between channels. "After that night, that last time we saw each other…" She swallows. "One of the men took me to a doctor, after I was left for dead by the others. I was operated on for days, all stitched up so I could be used again for the only thing I was good for. The man who took me held me captive until I was eighteen. Used me up as much as he could, until I was too old for him. Then he sold me."

Her blue eyes, which were once the most beautiful things I had ever seen, are now completely devoid of life. Her voice is no longer that soft, high-pitched sound that I remember. It's raw and monotone, as if she spent years upon years screaming, up to the point her vocal cords were permanently damaged. She's too skinny, her legs almost like two sticks as she walks around in circles, her eyes never leaving mine.

"I was trafficked for ten years. I managed to escape back in '69. They never found me, and I don't think they cared that much anyway. I was used up until the point no man was willing to pay for me anymore. They like them young and innocent, you know? Nothing desirable about an almost thirty-year-old woman covered in scars and an ass that was sodomized so many times I could no longer take a normal shit."

My hands shake with rage, and I sniff away the snot that tries to leak out of my nose, rubbing my blurry eyes. "I'm so sorry, Bunny." My voice catches in my throat at the last word.

She wipes away her own tears with the back of her free hand, the knife still in the other. "I spent years trying to recover from it, and while my body may have healed eventually, my heart never did. I went back to my childhood home to kill my parents, only to find out they had been dead for years. Murdered, along with the rest of the club. I knew it was you, Lester. I searched for you for a long time."

She keeps enough distance from me through this entire exchange, and I keep looking at Daisy from my peripheral. It's only her upper thigh that has been skinned, and it's not enough damage to kill her. The fact that she's passed out is a small blessing among this barn of horrors.

"You made it," Rosemary continues. "An accomplished artist, just like you always wanted. Knowing that you were okay was enough for me to leave you alone. I wanted to work on myself and heal so you would still want me. I saw a news report on the television one day, about a murderer called the Sculptor of Death. They summarized all the murders, and when I heard that one of them was staged like Le Génie du Mal , it didn't take me long to connect the dots. That was always one of your favorite pieces."

I'm still quiet as I take it all in, and she continues with a humorless smile. "When I was finally ready to be with you, I found out that you were no longer alone." Her lip curls up in disgust. "An eighteen-year-old girl. Your student. You not only broke my heart, but you also filled it with disgust. I feared that you had grown up to be another predator who preyed upon young girls just like the rest of them."

"That's not who I am," I tell her with certainty. "I would never hurt her."

"I know that." She lets out a deep breath, stepping closer to me. "You've changed. But deep inside, I know you're still the same boy who held me each time I cried."

I take an instinctive step back. "I need more answers, Bunny. Why did you recreate my ‘69 kill? And why did you kill my student, Jace?"

"Because that's the year I finally escaped," she answers, halting her steps. "I killed that boy because he tried to destroy you, Chipmunk. Your career and everything you've worked for. He had to go and he had to pay for what he did to you. I protected you, just like you always protected me."

Trauma has done the same thing to her as it did to me. It killed us on the inside, turned us into heartless killers. But whereas I have somewhat of a moral compass and need my victims to be a certain type of evil, she doesn't hold herself to the same standards. I'm not saddened by the death of Jace Moore and I don't excuse any of the things he did to Daisy, but he didn't deserve a death like that.

"Remember that time we ran away from home and slept in the woods for a few days?" she asks, her stance softening.

I nod. "Of course I do."

"That was the happiest I've ever been. Just being with you." A melancholy smile curves her lips just the slightest bit. "And your brother, of course. He was always kind to me. In all those years I was held in a lonely basement, I would always escape to that time. When I heard my captor's footsteps creak on the wooden stairs, I would try to imagine the smell of the green grass, try to feel the warm sunlight tickle on my skin. I would try to feel your hands on my scalp, just like when you braided my hair and tied ribbons around the tips."

Sickening emotions claw up my throat as I relive those times and I blink away my tears. "Will you ever stop, Bunny? Will you ever let me go?"

She shakes her head desperately. "I can't. You're all that I have. Please. Just run away with me. We can be together. Kill together." Looking at Daisy's still body, she continues. "You see? I'm capable of it. We don't have to go through it alone anymore. I understand you like no one else ever can."

I bare my teeth when a new load of anger thunders through my body like a lightning strike. "Capable of it?" I grit out. "Capable of fucking what , Rosemary? I would have never done this. Never to someone innocent."

She swallows a large gulp in surprise at the disgust in my tone, and I can tell the exact moment she decides to get back to Daisy.

I'm on her before she gets the chance.

Almost jumping through the barn, I yank the long strands of her hair and pull her against my chest, a loud yelp escaping her throat. My arm locks around her neck with force, and when she gasps out for air, she waves the knife through the air. She cuts me in the jaw, but I don't let the shock or pain faze me.

I grab her wrist with my free hand, digging my fingers into her flesh so hard that she eventually lets go of the blade. It clatters to the floor, and she tears at my arms with her sharp fingernails as her feet scrape over the wood. Pushing her to the ground by using my full bodyweight, I straddle her.

She panics as she tries to use her legs to get me off, but I'm too strong. She's barely a bag of bones as I feel her frail wrists in my hands and her hipbones poke into my thighs as I lie on top of her.

She keeps struggling, but she doesn't fight me as much as I thought she would. Instead, she just looks at me with desperation in her eyes. "Please, Chipmunk," she cries out. "You're all I have left to live for. There's nothing else."

More tears stream out of her eyes as she pleas for my love, and glimpses of childhood memories flash before my eyes as I get ready to do what I must to keep the woman I love safe.

"Lester," she begs again, her lower lip wobbling just like it always did when we were kids. "It's me. It's your Bunny."

I no longer hold my emotions back and heartbreaking whimpers leave my own throat, matching hers. "You're not her anymore, Rosemary. That girl is gone. Just like I'm no longer the boy you once knew. I'm no longer your Chipmunk. He died."

"Pl―please, Lester," she begs, but I can tell she already knows how this will end.

"You tried to take away the one person who showed me how to live again. I promised I'd always protect her, just like I once promised you. It breaks the last remaining pieces of my shattered heart that the one person I must protect her from is you."

She blinks her eyes hard, the tears trailing over the sides of her face as she doesn't stop crying. "I can't do it anymore, Lester. The pain is too much."

Realization settles over me, pushing on my chest like a fallen tree.

I think this has been her plan all along. She must have had hope that we could somehow build a life, heal from our traumas together. But she also must have known there was never any possibility of that happening.

I think she wants to die by my hands.

"Will it be quick?" She gasps. "Will you be gentle?"

"Always, Bunny," I promise. "Haven't I always been?"

She nods, and her words are barely audible as she asks, "Will you please do one more thing for me?"

"Anything," I say without hesitation, my stomach twisting.

"Will you kiss me? Just once. I just want to feel your lips this once." She sucks her lower lip into her mouth to suppress her sobs. "I'll take it with me when I go, cherish it from beyond the grave. I'll always be grateful to you no matter what, Chipmunk. Please."

I lick my lips to rid them of the salty taste of my own tears, then bend my head closer to her face. I move my hands, one trailing a path with my fingertips over her soft, pink cheeks, before taking her chin in my hands. My other arm reaches for the knife in my back pocket.

"I hope you will finally find peace, Bunny," is the last thing I say before I press my lips to hers. The way our lips connect is not the way it should feel between lovers. It's not how it feels with my little nymph, when our souls connect from love instead of mutual pain.

This kiss is full of broken memories and flashes of the past. Littered with should-have-beens and ache for a future that never came. It's full of grievance and melancholic destruction.

With my eyes closed, I move my lips against hers just slightly, fulfilling her final wish of tasting me. Gripping the handle of the knife tightly in my fist, I move it underneath my stomach until the sharp point is faced against hers.

And then I push.

A loud, painful gasp escapes her lips, silencing the melody of the knife stabbing through her flesh, along with the sound of blood bubbling from the cut. I swallow it up as I keep my lips locked against hers.

I stay strong only for her and pull back just an inch to look into her stunning, bloodshot eyes. Droplets of tears rest on her blonde eyelashes as she whispers with a pained moan, "Bury me with the wolves and bunnies in the forest."

A loud whimper escapes me as I leave the knife inside of her stomach and use both hands to grab her face. "Yes." I nod. "Yes, my sweet Bunny."

"I can't feel my legs," she chokes out.

" Shhh ," I shush her, smoothing my thumbs over her skin to soothe her.

"I―I'll always love you, Le―Lester."

I nod once more, squeezing my eyes desperately to rid them of tears. "Be free, Rosemary. Sleep now. You deserve rest. You don't have to fight anymore."

"Oka―okay," she stutters as blood fills her mouth, and on her last breath, she whispers, "Good―goodbye, Lester."

Her body goes completely still and her eyes look directionless at the ceiling as she dies in my arms. A wail of pain escapes my mouth and I bury my face in her neck as I let myself sob for the first time since I was a little boy.