Psycho Inside Me (10 page)

“What are we doing? I didn’t plan on your help. You’ve ignored me this past year. Why? Because I didn’t kiss you when you wanted? Sorry, but just because I’ve been in these situations doesn’t mean I’m a whore and know what I’m doing. I don’t. Okay? I have no idea how to kiss or when to or even how to deal with it when someone tells me to kiss them.” My chest heaved with my gasps. All my hurt and pain from Deegan ignoring me, my mom’s death, and being beaten in a car mixed with the adrenaline from enacting justi
ce left me shaken, cold.

He looked at the brick wall behind me and then down at our feet. Lowering his hands to his side, he nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Look, I know I wasn’t fair to you, I just… it hurt that you didn’t feel the same way about me that I did about you, alright? No big deal. I’m over it. But you’re right, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.”

Over it? He was over me. The fact that he’d been under me, or whatever the opposite of over me was, and I hadn’t known it and worked it in my favor made me want to throw up onto the ground again. And then to hear he’s over me… well, needless to say I felt cheated. But my pride rallied. I lifted my chin. “Okay, good. I’m glad.” We stood in awkward silence until a siren wailed in the distance.

Our gazes clashed and we tensed. I spoke first. “Crap, what do we do?” I wanted to run home, hide, but a bigger part of me wanted to see how they treated the scene. I’d never been into exhibiting or even rehashing each and every event, but I’d also never been so close to the bodies when the cops and paramedics finally decided to show.

“I hate to say it, but I think we need to split up. Two people are more obvious than one.” His words made sense.

But terror filled me. “No. Please. Stay with me. We can make it work.”
He couldn’t leave me alone at that point. Any other time would’ve been fine. I could’ve killed the cop by myself. I could’ve made it there alone and I could’ve escaped just fine. But right then, the moment when capture had a real taste and feel, I couldn’t do it alone.

My hands felt heavy and cold like snowballs. I folded my arms and tucked my fingers against my skin.

His eyes softened. “Okay. But this time, can you try to remember the together part?”

I opened my mouth to argue. He’d initiated the apart issue, not me. But relief won out that I wouldn’t be alone. Relief and gratitude. He pulled me into the curved part of his arm, up against his side, and we took off down the trail. Side by side.
I kept my mouth shut.

Part of me wondered what Deegan thought about me and my activities. He had always seemed to have pretty straightforward black and white ideas of right and wrong, but it seemed more gray tones since he continued to show up on the anniversary.

We couldn’t jog joined at the hip like we were. I
would only bounce without my sports bra on and I needed a minute to pull myself together. We stopped just at the edge of the tree line separating the city streets from the residential areas. My sports bra slid easily on over my halter. I clipped my knife to the inner lining of the elastic.

We’d made it. At least for a little bit. Euphoria created a giddiness that spread like melting butter over my nerves. I smiled at Deegan, who watched me with
a territorial glint in his eyes. The thought that he considered me his, if only for the night, lightened me even more. I had no guilt, not for a few minutes. Not then. Not when we’d succeeded – again.

And then reality settled around me like an icy shroud. My mom. I’d forgotten all about her funeral, her absence, her death. I’d been able to push the pain away for the time I’d been on the street, with Deegan and killing Mr. Pervy Patrol.
But then…

Deegan cupped my face in his hands.
“What’s the matter? You look like your mom…” His face fell. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I wasn’t thinking. I got caught up in this and forgot the real world.”

Alarm
swelled under my skin. How could I forget? “She… She died. Her funeral was today. I—” Sobs rent my speaking capabilities in two.

Arms engulfed me. I let out my sorrow in the middle of
the woods onto the chest of a guy I quickly decided I couldn’t live without. Releasing my grief with him seemed the most natural thing for me. Like the most normal thing I could do.

“Cassie, I don’t want you coming this way anymore, okay? I can protect us only so far. Do you understand?” He waited for my nod, then he continued, his voice lower, slower, as if he really wanted – no, needed – me to hear what he was saying… and not saying. “And however I act at school or wherever, you cannot take it personally. The last thing I want is for us
to get caught. Trust me. Okay? Everything will work out.”

He wanted my trust over minor issues when I’d shared things with him my own parents had no idea about. No matter what, I wouldn’t argue on it. But I needed assurances of my own. “Okay. I trust you. But can I join the boxing team at school? Now that my mom’s… gone… Dad won’t be tolerant of the private lessons anymore, you know? He was against it from the beginning. Can you
make it happen?” Like a drug deal or some kind of illegal favor.

He pushed his lips out as he thought. “Okay, I can do that. Just be ready to deal with a bunch of crap from the guys. You being a chick won’t make things easy for you.” Deegan held up a finger. “I won’t make anything easier
for you either. No one can suspect we’re together, okay?”

Together like “together”? I couldn’t force the question. He might mean it! Or he could just be saying it like we usually meant… Oh, man, the boy confused the crap out of me. What was I supposed to do with that kind of a statement?

“Cass? Got it?” His furrowed brow questioned my silence.

I blushed, grateful he couldn’
t see me clearly. Lost in thought over his use of the word, I’d missed whatever else he’d said. Rather than further embarrassing myself, I smiled and agreed and pretended to have heard everything. “Sure. Okay, let’s get going.”

We
broke into a loping pace until we reached my street. The run with Deegan had taken me back to the year before when my mom had been alive, when we’d run every day together, when I’d felt safe and secure in our relationship.

“I don’t want to go back yet..
.” Back to life where my mom no longer waited.

He looked down my street, toward my dark house. “Okay, come with me. I don’t want the night to end yet either.”

“What will we do?” I turned with him toward his street.

“Let’s go get our tattoos updated. I think this is a year we need to mark big time.” He moved along beside me, keeping pace.

Too much had happened in the last year. Part of me wished I could go home and pass out. But the part in control ran with Deegan, mindful of the break he offered, the chance to wind down after a tense evening.

We ran to his house, his car. And I was so glad I didn’t run alone.

~16
years old~

Chapter 10

I closed out the chat window, pushing the mouse with exasperated irritation. I’d been relegated to browsing chat rooms and forums for the next perv. Pretending to be a lonely 16-year-old girl looking for that special someone wasn’t that hard of a stretch. Except my special someone graduated in 6 weeks and his girlfriend – yeah, girlfriend! – had an eerie similarity to Kristin Stewart. I wished she’d get bit by a vampire and die!

Every kill had taken a part of me, har
dened me.

My sixteenth birthday came as the days crawled by with torturous slowness. I couldn’t breathe most of the time. Skipped school. Stopped running so much. I stuck to staying inside my house, pummeling the body bag and jogging on the treadmill. Everything seemed gray.

My computer and I had become fast friends and I’d stalked multiple people more deserving of death than I could cover alone.

The thought
of Deegan going on to college made me ill. Physically ill. My stomach would cramp and I would rush to the toilet to throw up. Easy to keep the weight off since it’s all I thought about. That and my three kills.

If I focused on anything else for too long, I would cry and
not stop.

Standing outside the kitchen on my “sweet” day, I stared at the calendar hanging from the cork board my mom had put up years ago. No one had bothered changing the calendar from the year before. My birthday mocked me on the paper, the day after was the day she’d died. That would be tomorrow, her anniversary. I wanted to celebrate, but I couldn’t celebrate so many things at once. I had my birthday, her death, and the anniversary of killing Bobby.

Nothing I could come up with would seem appropriate for celebrating Mom’s death. It’s not exactly something they made a singing Hallmark card for – oh, so sorry to hear about your death, here’s a card you can do nothing with.

I grimaced. Mom’s death was out.
So no matter what, Cassie, I’m not going out on the town to party.

My dad walked past me into the kitchen. “We need to talk. Call your brother down.” That was it. No hey-happy-birthday-kid or sorry-your-mom’s-dead-I’m-still-here. Same thing for the past year. Nothing but business.

Turning to the stairs, I yelled up for my brother to join us. Tromping and clomping answered me.

In the kitchen, I sat at the counter on my favorite stool, staring at the laminate. My brother walked in, joining me with his arms crossed and head lowered.

Dad leaned against the counter, his arms straight, holding him from crumpling. Graying hair had replaced his dark-as-chocolate locks my mom had loved. Somewhere, when I wasn’t looking, my dad had traded places with the stranger before me.

Yet, it didn’t surprise me. I wasn’t me. I’d never be me again. And killing that cop had damaged any chance of finding me again.

“Well…” He thrummed his fingers. “The thing is, I’ve been offered a job with a ministry on the coast.”

And? That’s it. All he was going to say? My brother and I looked at each other, then back
at Dad. I was the oldest, so I asked. “What does that mean?”

Dad sighed, not meeting our eyes. “It means we’re moving after school lets out.”
We gasped. Dad lifted his hands. “What do you want me to do? I can’t do this without your mother. She’s…” He sobbed and broke down in front of us. I rolled my eyes. As bad as I felt for him, he was the adult, he should be holding it together for his kids. Instead, he roamed around like a damn zombie, ignoring his children and everything he preached. The guilt over sinning so much the last couple of years had become easier to ignore when I was faced with evidence of my own father’s inequities.

Finally, I’d hit my wall. The introverted lifestyle I’d been living, the different way things were turning out than how I’d pictured them – seriously, why wasn’t Deegan dating me? Why had he made it so easy to quit boxing?
Hadn’t pushed for me to join up with the school? Why hadn’t he chased after me following the last tattoo?

The mounting pain and confusion in every aspect of my life reached a pinnacle and I slammed my hand on the counter. The slap snapped Dad out of his wailing and my brother into facing me.

“I don’t care what you think you need to do regarding your job. Do you think, Dad, that you’re going to be able to work better somewhere else?” I shook my head, disgust rich in the snarl of my lip. “I’m not going.” I lowered my gaze, focusing on holding the quiver from my voice. “Mom lived here. She’s resting not far away.” I lifted my face, my eyes shooting as fiercely into his as possible. “You’re not taking me away from that. How could you even want to?”

Dad
sobbed again, his breath hitching. I wanted to scream and shout, but I couldn’t. One of us had to act like the adult.

My brother’s stoicism scared me. He never cried. I hadn’t seen him
show any sign of emotional loss since Mom had passed.

I had to find a pervert fast
. My anniversary was in a week and if I meant anything to Deegan he’d follow me on that night to help me commemorate the date. I just didn’t have a particular one in mind and since I’d been dry for almost a year, I needed it to be good… really good. I almost wouldn’t mind one with some impact.

Leaving the kitchen, I chose to ignore the fact that neither of them had wished me a happy birthday.
I wouldn’t be celebrating my birthday. Maybe I could focus on Mom’s day and then the big one. The one that felt productive, worthwhile. The one that filled me with a righteous heat, made me feel alive. Brought me closer to Deegan where we were together for one night.

For the first time in ages, I wanted to run. Feel the air on my skin. It’d been raining for days. My favorite type of we
ather, rain and just about sixty degrees. The cloud cover kept the heat in. I could run in a tee and sweats or a pair of board shorts. Changing into board shorts would be fastest. I dug through my closet for my running shoes, hidden under piles of boots and dark clothing.

Slipping into my gear, I closed my eyes and remembered the last time I’d gone out at night. With Deegan dogging along beside me. He wouldn’t be there during the day, wouldn’t be there on a day that had no meaning to the both of us, but I could dream. Hell, even I deserved a birthday gift.

Slamming the front door, I thrust from the porch into the rain tumbling about in the wind. No matter which way I turned, refreshingly cold water smacked me in the face, my neck, arms, soaked my hair and made my clothing cling to my skin. I wouldn’t go back into the claustrophobic heat for anything. I broke into a jog, finding my stride like I’d never left it.

Pounding on the pavement ate up the distance. I ignored
the water running down my face, blinking it from my eyes. I puffed the air from my mouth, drops flying. I reached the high school and jogged around to the track. Flat surface would be welcomed to run on, a mindless path where I wouldn’t have to worry about cars or bikes or my dad following me. Not that he searched for me ever anyway.

I wasn’t alone on the rubber oval.

Mr. Weston walked the inner lane, his sweatpants dark where wet and his windbreaker formed to his torso. The teacher creeped me out. He had this weird way of staring at anything but your face and if you wore a tight enough shirt, he stared at your tits while he taught class. Geometry. He taught math. I’d had him once.

Turning around when I reached him would be rude, so I pulled alongside. “Hi Mr. Weston. Liking the rain?”

He started, turning towards me. His gaze skimmed my face, training on my chest under drenched clothing. I was cold so most likely I was nipping out, too. Mr. Weston’s eyebrows lifted. “Well, hello Cassie. How are you today?”

Eyes up here, Mr. Weston.
But I didn’t say it. I wanted to, but I didn’t. “I’m good, sir. Out for a run while I wait for my friends to meet me online to chat. Maybe role play or something.” Slowing to a walk, I wiped at my wet face, the drizzling rain immediately mocking my efforts.

“Oh, I didn’t know you role played. What games are you into?” Interest sparked in his eyes.

Hmmm. A lead-in question. One I’d have to be careful with my answer. Too forward would scare him off – too subtle and he wouldn’t catch on. I think my mom used to use the word coy. I’d have to be coy. “I’m into all different kinds of games. But the computer is just for when I can’t play the way I want to. It’s just simulation. Not quite as stimulating, you know?”

“I
t’s good for teens to engage in healthy, stimulating activities.” We walked along for a moment, our silence covered by the hushed roar of the falling rain. Around the curve of the far corner we kept pace. He pointed at the bench positioned near the finish line. “My stuff is under that umbrella. This is my last lap. But it’s been nice having company. Thanks, Cassie.”

Drastic measures would have to be taken. I needed to speed things up. If I was going to get a confirmation that he really was perverted and did the things I’d only heard whispered about, I’d have to up my game.

Not one male on earth with naughty tendencies could handle a wet female falling into their hands. Good guys, sure, but a guy whose intentions aren’t great to begin with? Forget it.

I tripped myself, leaning his way as I fell. His chilly fingers caught me under my arms, grazing the soft skin hidden by my shirt sleeve. He stopped and pulled me close, pressing my chest to his. “Oh, Cassie, are you okay? You have to be so careful.” He wrapped his arms around me, as if I wouldn’t notice that his hands clasped the flesh above my ass. He was inches away from cupping my cheeks in his hands.

The hold continued. I pushed myself into him, running my hands up the windbreaker. I could see my breath as it puffed between us. “Mr. Weston, I’m sorry. I think I twisted my ankle.” I reached for the offended part, but didn’t let go of his jacket. He, in turn, didn’t alter his hold on me.

Looking around, Mr. Weston offered me his hand, wrapping his arm around my waist, his fingers digging into my
side. We reached the bench and he sat me down under his umbrella. “I don’t think you should run on that, Cassie. Or walk, for that matter.” He withdrew his keys from a small bag and jingled them as if he didn’t already have the plan formed in his mind. “I shouldn’t do this. It’s not appropriate at all…” He stared at his keys, one finger hooked in the key ring. He waited.

Oh, crap.
That was my cue. I leaned to the side, my shirt pulling at my breasts. “Could you give me a ride, Mr. Weston? I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” Eyes wide, I brushed the wet hair from my face.

His eyes darkened. He had me – or so he thought. Funny, we were thinking the same thing about the other person. I had a feeling I’d be the winner though.
Mr. Weston smiled. “Okay, but just this once.”

Yeah, right. One thing I wasn’t? Stu
pid. If I gave him the chance to be alone with me again, he’d take it. Any self-respecting teacher would have offered to call my parents. Not ogle me and then be alone with me. Yeah. I’d play it out, but depending on how far he wanted to take it, Mr. Weston might be my next kill.