CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

BELLA

My first two driving trips looking for the graveyard were a bust. I wanted to give up, but I couldn’t. There was something pushing me to find it, even though I don’t understand what it is. When I make a wrong turn and notice a familiar scene, I smile to myself from ear to ear.

“Nico, I found it!”

Talking to a dead guy is probably not a good sign. I’m pretty sure I’m going crazy, or maybe I’m already gone, but it’s the one thing that helps right now.

Parking my car outside of the black metal fence, I take a deep breath and get out. I walk up to the entrance, but it’s locked, so I do what any sane person would do. Placing my foot on the lower bar, I grab the top, and swing my body up and over it. My landing is far less than graceful as I crash onto the ground. Getting up, I dust myself off.

On instinct, I walk over to the grave he tried to kill me on, and drop to my knees, and scream his name.

According to my google search, there are five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Denial came and went quickly, because I was there. I saw the knife in his chest. It’s pretty difficult to deny that. Anger. That’s where I am now, mixed with depression, I suppose. But acceptance? I don’t think I’ll ever accept what I did to him. I’ll never be okay with him being gone.

Why did I have to grab that fucking knife? If I hadn’t made that one stupid move, everything would be okay right now.

“Nico. I don’t know what to do. ”

I let the tears fall, as I dig my fingers into the earth beneath me. The very place he planned to take my life and, at this moment, I wish I had let him. I have spent most of my life blocking shit out, not feeling anything, and now it’s as if my entire being is nothing but the thing I’ve avoided most.

I collapse onto the ground, a sobbing mess, when I hear his voice again.

“Let the darkness in, living dead girl.”

My brain is fucking with me. Why are those the words my brain is playing on repeat?

After hours of laying on the cold ground, I get up because I need to numb this pain. I have to find a fucking drink.

Walking over to the gate, I try to see if there’s a way to get it open, and notice that it unlocks from the inside. I open it and leave it open because I’m coming back. This place has some odd connection to Nico for me. And I know if I come back here, I’ll feel him on some level. The emptiness is not as bad as it is in my apartment.

I get in my car and drive back to civilization. The streets are mostly vacant, but my heart stops for a moment, when an ambulance zooms by. It makes me think of the night I stabbed him. I should’ve stayed, instead of running away like a coward. Is that why he died? Because I called his brother, instead of 9-1-1? Maybe it took Bones too long to get to him. I should have saved him the way I knew he would’ve saved me.

My vision blurs as I remember that night, as I pull into the parking lot of the only bar I see.

“Bella, I’m an asshole. I know that. But baby, please, you’re the only good thing in my life. Please don’t do this. I’m begging you. Don’t do this to me.”

His voice sounded so raw, desperate for me to not end my life. He wasn’t pleading for his safety, but mine. And that makes me a bigger monster than he ever was. I wipe my tears away and head into the bar. A dive called Shots. Not an especially creative name, but exactly what I’m after. I have no plans on driving drunk, but I do want to numb myself for a little while. I need to.

Walking up to the bar, I order two shots of tequila as I take a seat on a black stool, and the bartender raises an eyebrow.

“Got ID, darlin’?” he drawls, with a southern accent that doesn’t quite fit around here.

Opening my purse, I hand him my driver’s license and he tips his black cowboy hat.

“Okay, Miss Arabella, top shelf?”

I nod at him. “It’s Bella. Top shelf is fine.”

He smirks at me as he sets the two shots in front of me with lime and salt.

“Alright, Miss Bella, let me know if you need anything else.”

The bar is less dingy than the outside, but it’s still not a classy place. It’s got a small black bar that’s covered in scratches, and six bar stools bolted to the floor. It’s a tiny place with only four black tables, and a jukebox with an out-of-order sign taped to it.

Throwing back the first shot, I close my eyes as the burn travels from my throat to my chest. Then, I do the same thing with the second, when a man approaches me and sits on the barstool beside me.

“Hi, beautiful. Can I buy you a drink?”

I shake my head no, as I motion for the bartender to bring me another shot of tequila.

“I’m good. I can buy my own drinks and I’m not interested.”

I can feel his glare on me, even though I’m looking straight ahead. I don’t need to see it to know it’s there.

“No need to be a bitch. What’s wrong with you? Take the drink like any other slut and say thank you.”

“Let the darkness in, living dead girl.”

“Nico,” I gasp under my breath, but the asshole beside me hears it.

“Who the fuck is Nico? ”

Without bothering to answer this guy, because I don’t owe him anything, I toss back my third drink and set money on the bar and leave.

As I walk out to my car, I hear footsteps behind me.

“Get fucking lost, asshole. I said I’m not interested.”

Opening my door, I slide into the driver’s seat and head back to the graveyard. I know I’m not in a great mood, but that guy was a dick for no reason. If a woman says she isn’t interested, just move the fuck on.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I pull back up to the graveyard. The gate is still open, so I walk right through, and take my spot beside my favorite grave. The place where I nearly died, but found something I quickly lost.

A car door slams, and I quickly jump up and see the idiot from the bar coming toward me.

He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a wife beater shirt, as well as an angry glare on his face.

“You’re a cunt, and a cunt is only good for one thing.”

I glare right back at him.

“You fucking followed me here? Asshole.”

This stranger stalks toward me.

“Care to tell me why we’re in a cemetery?”

I don’t respond, and he stops in front of me, and places his hand on my head and pushes down.

“On your fucking knees, whore.”

“What? No.”

He laughs wickedly.

“You’re going to suck my dick, or I’ll put a bullet in your brain.”

I don’t see a gun, but I don’t doubt that he has one either.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, causing him to laugh louder.

“Let me take my shoes off first.”

He stares, from my light pink lacy shirt to my faded jeans, like he’s undressing me with his eyes .

“Take off whatever you want.”

I unstrap my heels and set them beside me on the ground, while he unzips his jeans and pulls them down to his feet. Staring at me, he orders, “Start sucking.”

“Let the darkness in, living dead girl.”

It’s only my imagination, but his voice is comforting, and exactly what I need right now.

Taking his tiny dick in my hand, he groans and closes his eyes. With my free and dominant hand, I pick up my shoe and drive the heel into his balls. He screams as he jumps away from me and falls to the ground.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Glancing down at his bleeding skin, I smile at him and climb on top of him, and wrap my hands around his throat.

“Let the darkness in, living dead girl. That’s it, baby, squeeze as hard as you can.”

Reaching up, he pulls my hair, trying to get me off him, but I hold on for dear life. If it’s a choice between him or me, I choose me.

“Stare into his eyes, baby. Watch the light fade.”

His eyes widen as he struggles underneath me, and within minutes, he’s dead.

“Come here, baby.”

Glancing over, I see Nico laying on top of a grave and I walk over to him, knowing he’s not real. Laying down with him, I lay my head on his chest and absorb his warmth against my face.

“Nico, I’m sorry.”

He strokes his hand through my hair.

“I know, living dead girl. It’s okay.”

I sob into his chest, and wish I could always feel him like this. He’s imaginary and I’m afraid, at any moment, my mind will right itself and he’ll be gone forever.

“Sleep, baby. I’m right here.”