Deadly(2)

Didn’t they think people would be more cooperative if they were more welcoming?

“They don’t want you comfortable, sweet Cereus,” Ryan whispers.

“So your driving licence says you’re Kirsty Jones but can you tell me who Georgina Yates is and why you have her licence?” He’s holding up her driving licence. Hmmm, I’d forgot I had that.

“Always taking souvenirs,” Ryan tuts, shaking his head at me.

Kirsty Jones. How many names have I had now?

I look over to the man asking me questions and then to the man beside him whose eyes are boring into my own. Am I a suspect in a case the other fat idiot has no evidence of, because the man beside him, the man staring at me with such sadness in his heavy lidded eyes wouldn’t allow there to be any?

I scan the familiarities in his features from the man I once knew. The small lines creasing around his eyes are new, but overall his appearance is so familiar, yet so distant.

…Another lifetime.

“Kirsty, can you answer the question? Who is Georgina Yates?” The useless dick asks again. How am I freezing to death and yet there’s sweat beading and dripping from his forehead.

Because they pulled you out of a cold lake and his body is four times the size of yours and it’s trying to burn off all those doughnuts.

I smirk at my inner bitch, I liked her a lot. Why does he care so much about Georgina anyway?

“So many names, so many people it’s hard to remember them all, you know.” I muse, smiling wickedly. I’ve never really thought about it before but it’s quite a scary thought… what sinister thoughts can lurk behind a smile, especially mine.

Ryan’s dark rumbling laugh sends energy through my veins causing a shiver, and he knows it too, knows what he does to me. The glint in his eyes make them shine like glossy black sapphires.

“Don’t tease the man, my sweet Cereus. Remember.

It’s why you’re here.”

I do remember her, of course I do. She was someone we actually both liked, which was rare and something Ryan would never admit to if I spoke those thoughts aloud. I can hear Ryan’s reply in my head, “I don’t like anyone Cereus but you and me.”

Maybe “like” is a strong word, tolerated would be a better term. I liked her and he tolerated her, and in the end he was right about her not being like us, no one is. She was the reason I was here.

...She ruined everything

My mind wanders back to the night I brought her back to the cosy villa Ryan had rented for us right off the beachfront.

We had done so much travelling; Ryan was showing me the world and every inch of it was dark and consuming. The powerful intensity from being by his side could be compared to none, he was it for me, and I worshipped him. I fed on the remedy of his allure willingly. He gave me everything but him completely and my body ached along with my heart for him to fully devour me.

He offered me a life that I could be free in, a life where no one but us two mattered.

Normal people will never know just how magical, how beautiful the darkness can be.

And then everything changed and nothing was the way it was supposed to be. Why couldn’t I just listen to him… why did he have to bring out the monster in me?

Georgina freaking Yates, why did I ever have to meet you?





4 MONTHS EARLIER

Have you ever had a dream so vivid, when you awoke from it your heartbeat was still racing and the tears that leaked freely in the dream world dampened your cheek in the physical world?

I have been having a lot of dreams like that of late.

Happy ones where I would wake up smiling.

Dark ones where I would wake up and question my own cravings for death.

And sad ones, where the tears still flowed even when I woke. Today I’d woken with an appetite.

Ryan was going to help me in ways I’d never really thought about before. Art was always an outlet for me and with each dream came a new sketch, a new face haunting me. Why was everything so muddled?

Why were my dreams so intense, so consuming?

Why wasn’t I more like Ryan?

He said we were the same.

“Another bad dream?” His voice carries from a darker corner of the room where he would occasionally sit and watch me sleep. The shine from the window highlights his silhouette, and to anyone else it would be frightening to wake up with the devil sat with one leg perched up, the ankle resting on his knee and his hands gripping the armrests. Dark, alluring eyes devouring you, imagining all the worst kinds of sin, and yet to me it was a comfort.

His voice was almost accusing, the tone deep and pointed, sending a shiver to race throughout my body.

My demons plaguing my sleeping hours made me angry, made me feel inferior to be with him; I know I was disappointing him…