“Ryan, what are thinking about?” Jodie’s words penetrate my thoughts and they vanish into the air with the steam of the shower.
“I’m thinking what a joke you are.”
I step into the tub, gripping one of her razor blades as I do. I pin her against the tiled wall and rub my cock across her stomach.
“Why are you so cruel?” she murmurs, wrapping her hand around my cock and stroking.
“Because I have no soul. Why did you do this to yourself?” I ask, pulling her wrist in front of her.
“Because I wanted to die!”
Bringing the razor down to an old scar, I push down with the blade of her razor and pull it across her skin. A red risen line follows in its wake. Her inhales of breath and cries feed the beast that is me. “That’s a cry for help, Jodie. You get lonely and want attention.”
She brings her other hand up to cover the seeping wound and her pupils dilate as her body floods her system with adrenaline.
“Why did you do that? They’ll put me back in the hospital. I can’t go back there!”
I ignore her cries and lift her arms above her head, pinning them with one of my hands. She winces and the red stream trickling down her arm and onto my skin fed the yearning inside me to see her bleed. I part her legs and wrap my free arm around her waist, lifting her and spearing her down on my cock. She screams out and I show no mercy in thundering my hips against her. Our bodies clash and slap against each other, sending water everywhere.
“You know,” I growl, “if you want attention you could just change your birthday on Facebook to today. Think of all your friends and family wanting to send their best wishes to fucked up little Jodie.”
I hammer away at her as her sobs mix with moans and her blood showers down on us with the water. I pull out so I don’t come inside her and place her back on her feet. She’s unsteady so I guide her to a sitting position.
“This hurts, Ryan,” she whines.
I turn the valve on the bath, which shuts off the shower and plugs the tub. Turning on the faucets, I let water fill over her body.
“What are you doing?” she asks as I begin dressing myself.
“I’m going to let you rest in a nice hot bath.”
I lace my boots and walk over to her to turn off the faucets. She looks so confused and pale. I grip her hand; the one with the open cut and make her stare at it with me.
“If you want to die, Jodie, you slice up.” I motion with the blade, pushing it into her soft flesh.
Her breath hitches and I cover her mouth quickly to soften the sound of her scream. I open her up from the wrist to the elbow. Moving my hand from her mouth, I watch realization fall over her features. Her eyes droop and her mouth moves but no words come out. She tries to reach for me with her other hand but she’s too weak, the water she now lies in is a glorious red. I place the blade in her palm and leave her before she’s fully dead. I open her front door a crack and check the hallway’s empty, and then casually walk out and down the stairs straight into my room. I pack up what little amount of shit I have and finally open the envelope of my belongings. There are files in there that I’m pretty sure shouldn’t be, but my attention is solely on the bank account information
$439,890
My brother’s blood money. I can’t believe he didn’t reclaim this or use his tech savvy fingers and empty it. Nearly half a million dollars sat there from the money he made before I was incarcerated and then accrued interest. I lie back on the bed and let it all sink in. My eyes close and when I open them daylight is filtering in the window and there’s a pounding at my door.
I PULL THE DOOR OPEN and shout, “What?” for effect. I’m pretty sure why there’s knocking.
The hall is filled with the other residents of this not so humble abode. Isabella throws herself into my arms and sobs against my chest. I can’t make out what she’s saying through her wails. Police catch my eye and then coroners bring down a stretcher with a body bag strapped to it. Isabella’s wails get more erratic and she’s quickly pulled from me by some of the day nurses that visit to administer medication to some of the people here. They inject her arm and within seconds she calms.
Rat boy is pacing the stairwell entry, tugging on his hair.
“It’s Jodie. I know you were close. If you want to talk or need me to call your case worker, just let me know,” Jason tells me.
Why the fuck is he being nice to me? I was an asshole to him only last night. I guess this is sympathy. Urgh, pathetic. He’s looking at me like he’s waiting for a reaction, and I guess a normal person would have one if their . . . fuck . . . friend died. I run my hands through my hair and drop on my haunches.