“Oh, but my lovely girl, games are half the fun—they’re what will climax the ending when I show him the way I hurt you,” he said in a kind voice, like he was talking to a child. “Finally, he will get to see how it feels to watch someone he loves die at the hands of someone he’s trusted his whole life.”
“You saw him kill her—this girl you loved?” My whisper came out ragged.
“I did—in his memories.” He seemed to choke. “You cannot fathom the debasing things he did to her, Ara—you cannot comprehend what she suffered in those last moments.”
“So you’re going to be the one to make me understand?” I said sarcastically.
Jason thumbed a tear away from my chin. “Yes, but first, by making you see.”
When his hand came up fast, I cowered, shielding my cheek, but he shoved my wrist away, gripping both sides of my face to pull me closer.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, nose to nose with this man who meant to hurt me.
“Blessing you with the gift of insight.” He squeezed my face tighter as I fought him. “Sit still.”
“No. I don’t want you to touch me.”
“You need to see this,” he said, breathless. “You need to know what you’re dying for.”
“Why?”
“Why?” His voice broke, tears coating his eyes. “Because it matters.”
And a small part of me actually felt a pang of pity for him then. I held my breath, listening for the voices in the distance calling my name. All I wanted was to run to them, to get away, but I exhaled slowly and looked deep into the eyes of my captor. “Let it go, Jason.”
He pressed his thumbs under my eyes, holding me in place; the indentation of his grip suggesting that movement might result in a cracked skull. “Take a deep breath, Ara.”
“Please—don’t.” As his icy touch sent a stinging jolt through my cheek, I jerked back, wriggling like a fish on a hook; I pushed my wrists down on his forearms, merely making his grip tighter. “Get off me, it hurts.”
“I know.”
“Please—” I tugged at his thumbs. “Please stop.”
“Close your eyes,” he ordered. “It will hurt less.”
A whimpering cry shook the back of my throat; I swallowed hard, scrunching my eyes tightly over the hot, stinging tears, and drew a quick breath instantly when I saw a girl—as bright as the sun in the day. She looked like a memory, one that didn’t belong to me, but clear as a reflection.
“Rochelle, Rochelle, Rochelle,” a man said, standing over her where she cowered in the corner, her head in her arms. His feet parted enough that I could see her bare toes, her golden legs, and honey blond hair falling over her shoulder. She looked just like Emily.
“Yes.” Jason’s grip eased and the stinging in my face turned numb and cold. “She did. Will you sit still now?”
As I nodded, the film became clearer; the girl looked up—her eyes round with fright, her whole body convulsing uncontrollably.
David knelt beside her and softly ran his fingers down her arm, taking her hand, then kissed it. “Such a pretty little thing. It’s a pity you had to cry, Rochelle—you really are repulsive when you snivel.”
She buried her face again, her delicate, feminine voice so high, so frightened. “Please. Please let me go.”
He smiled softly. “I will. I just have to do something first.”
“W-what?” even in a quiet voice, her French accent was so thick.
His hand slid along her ankle, up her leg, coming to rest on her knee. “If you promise to lie still, I will be gentle.”
“No. Please!”
“Don’t beg, Rochelle.” He unfastened the top button on her dress, parting the collar. “It won't hurt for long.”
“Va te faire foutre, trouduci.” She spat on him.
“You dirty little whore!” He thrashed the back of his hand across her chin with lip-splitting force.
I squealed, covering my mouth as she did.
“Shh.” Jason squeezed my face. “You’ll expose our position to your little hunting party.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Just watch.” He pushed my mind closer to the memory: David lowered his face to the girl’s and whispered something in her ear, turning her cheek to lick the blood from it after.
My chest tightened.
“Your taste does not really appeal to me,” he said.
“Then let me go.”
“I would, if you were merely my next meal, but I'm here for another reason.”
“What reason?”
“My brother does not have the courage to do what must be done.” He ran his finger down the opening in her dress, smoothing it off her shoulder. “This is not personal, Rochelle. It’s just business.”
“What must be done?” I said. “What?”
“Please?” she shrieked. “Please don’t, David, I’m p—”
“Shh.” He covered her mouth, slipping behind her, cradling her spine to his chest. “It will be over soon.”
She hummed her aversion in the back of her throat, tugging at his hand.
“It hurts more if you fight, Rochelle,” he whispered into her hair, meticulously rolling her head to expose the vein on her neck. “I’ll try not to enjoy this.”
“David, no!” my squeal broke off as he sank his teeth in, yanking the girl’s head back until a bone broke through her collar. I covered my face, trying to hide from the reality.
“No. You must see.”
“Please, no, Jason. Please don’t make me watch.”
He ripped my hands from my face. “You will watch.”
As I looked back into the memory, David looked up, his eyes meeting mine—disturbing the core of my soul with the ferocity behind them—tearing out my every ill-conceived notion that he was once human inside. I hated him then, as I saw the monster he’d warned me about so many times—I hated him.
I sobbed loudly, watching his victim fall limp in his arms, her last breath releasing in a whisper, “David?”
He moved closer.
“I’m pregnant.”
I drew back, frozen, unable to think; my heart pounded in my chest as the realisation of the loss that could never be retrieved flooded my angry heart, bringing a cascade of tears down my cheeks.
Rochelle faded.
David dropped her lifeless corpse to the floor, letting her head hit the ground, her neck twisting awkwardly as she fell—then stood up and walked away. His heavy black boots were the last thing I saw in the memory before reality washed in like cold water on my face, making me jump inside. “Jason,” I cried through deep, breathless sobs. “I’m so sorry.”