CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

BELLA

Six Weeks Later…

I glance down at my Sexcapades dating app and smile. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders await me tonight. Christian sounds like such a nice name, however, the things he wants to do to me are anything but. I bet his mother thinks he’s a good man, he’s not. How could I know that? Well, it doesn’t take an expert to search online for arrest records. My date tonight stands trial in one year for beating the shit out of his wife. One thing I’ve learned in the last month of my life is men will agree to nearly anything, if they think they’ll get their dick wet.

I still spend most of my time at the graveyard. It’s where I feel Nico most, and it has almost become a compulsion.

Coming to the realization that I wanted him, once he was dead, has been the bitterest of pills to swallow. I think I wanted him, but I needed a little control. I wanted a choice, but he gave me none. Being chained up the way I was, took that all away. He stripped me of all dignity, until I convinced myself I hated him. I live with a constant pain in my chest. Sometimes it’s sharp and sometimes it’s dull, but it never fades completely. My time with Nico changed me, and I’m not the same person anymore. I’m not necessarily proud of it, but this is my way of dealing with it. Getting rid of useless trash. Seven dead bodies, and no one will ever suspect a blonde, standing five foot four at full height, would be capable of such things. I do love being a girl.

I touch up my red lipstick, and adjust the straps on my white dress. It’s become a uniform of sorts. Men get excited by the innocent look, but the red lip color says I’m willing to give it all away. Dream on, boys. I lost that a long time ago. Each of these men think they’re getting laid. Not a chance. After being with Nico, they wouldn’t be able to satisfy me, anyway. I begged him to stop, but now I wish I hadn’t. I’m a fucked up mess, because it took him dying for me to gain any clarity.

I walk up to Christian, waiting by the tall gray headstone like an obedient puppy. Giggling inwardly, I can’t help myself, I love this. It’s like taking candy from a baby. The men on this app live their lives led by their dick.

“Christian,” I smile sweetly.

“Fuck. You’re even more gorgeous in person.”

Lifting my eyelashes slowly, I look up at him, playing the game he wants to play.

“Do you still want to do this?”

He nods slowly while he licks his lips. This is his fantasy. If he were Nico, I’d be into it, but he’s not, so there’s only one way this little game ends.

“I hope you can catch me.”

Taking off, I run into the trees, the same way I did the night Reaper tried to kill me. My heart pounds, in part from the memory, and the physical exertion mixed with the anticipation of what I’m about to do.

I dart to the left, just as he thinks he’s about to grab me with a husky, “Gotcha.”

Laughing, I stay on the move until I hear him panting like a dog in heat. I may be small, but it’s his exhaustion that will give me the upper hand. I’ve been running since I was ten. Every morning before work, I run a minimum of six miles. It’s how I got away from Nico that night, and it’s how Christian is going to die. Making a circle, I go back toward the graveyard, because that’s where I need him to be, because this is where I feel like Nico is. It’s not something I understand, so I’ve stopped trying .

Once I get to what has become my favorite headstone, I fall to the ground crying, with my hand over my face. Like all the ones before him, he rushes over to me, not really concerned about me, more likely to do with whether or not he still gets what he wants. He kneels in front of me and stares at my face.

“Sit back a little. Stop crowding me.”

He leans back on his knees and I swing my leg up, kicking him in the face with my heel. Christian falls onto his back and cradles his face, while screaming about what a bitch I am. He’s not wrong.

I climb on top of him, straddling his chest.

“Pick your poison. Hands. Knife. Or gun.”

I lift my skirt, and he watches me with obvious interest. Pulling the knife from the top of the inside of my dress, I show it to him.

“Try it. Fuck with me.”

His eyes are wide with pure panic, and it makes me understand the man known as Reaper a little more.

“What do you want? Money? Take my wallet. Just get the fuck away from me.”

I feign a sad expression.

“You don’t want to fuck me now?”

He shakes his head emphatically. Apparently, I’ve killed the mood.

“Lace your fingers behind your head.”

Christian hesitates, so I press the tip of my knife into his throat until he complies.

“What’s your poison, Christian? This is happening. Take your pick.”

He closes his eyes tight.

“Hands.”

I smile and sigh contentedly.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

After placing my knife back in the pocket under my skirt, I place my hands around his throat .

“Eyes open.”

He blinks his eyes open as a tear trails down his cheek.

“How many times did you make your wife cry?”

Recognition shows on his face, and I know he thinks she sent me. I don’t even know her.

“Did she do this?”

I smile softly at him before I reply.

“No. You did this.”

Tightening my hands around his throat, I stare into his eyes, as he shakes his head back and forth. He wants to fight me, but he knows his death will be far more bloody and painful. I wait for the moment I hear his words. This is how I know Nico is with me. Every time I kill someone, I hear his voice.

‘Let the darkness in, living dead girl. Don’t fight it. I promise it’ll feel good.’

As Christian dies, and I don’t hear those words, the emptiness fills me once again. Despair. I get off him and fall to my knees beside his dead body.

“Nico,” I sob into my hands, and like he was waiting for me to break, his voice is there, in my head once again.

“Living dead girl, this is beautiful, baby, but this trail of dead bodies in my family cemetery is beginning to cause problems.”

Turning to the sound, I know I’ve gone crazy when I lift my gaze, and see him staring at me with a heated expression.

“Nico,” I gasp.