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I reach for Lennox but he brushes me off. “No problem, we were just leaving.” he replies. Ted mumbles something imperceptible to Nox who nods in return. Facing the front, he lifts his hand to the shifter, and I see Johnson raise his pistol from outside the vehicle.

Bang!

Wetness splatters across my face and chest as Nox’s body collapses into me. I can’t even scream. What the hell is happening?

Watching Ted, he rounds the front of the truck making his way to me. I struggle to un-click the seat belt trapped beneath my boyfriend’s dead weight but it’s no use, Johnson rips open my door. “There ya are darlin’, I thought I lost ya.”

“No!” I shriek, the piercing sound amplified by the small cab of the truck. He leans over me, gun in hand, and shoves Lennox’s lifeless body off me. I’m trapped,again. Johnson brushes the gore from my face, locking his blue eyes with mine.

“Miss me?” he jests, sinking his fingers into my hair and wrapping them around the strands.

“I killed you,” I growl.

“I’m a part of you. You’ll have to kill yourself to truly be rid of me.”

“Not a fucking problem,” I snarl. Without second guessing my actions, I snap my hand out and grab ahold of his fist that carries the revolver. Unaccompanied by hesitation, I press the barrel below my chin. He lets me, eyes widening with desire when he realizes he’ll win this battle of mental fortitude. I place my hand over his, and pull the fucking trigger.

Bang!

Like a bullet leaving a gun, I shoot up in bed. Guts heaving, I make a mad dash for the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. Retching and gagging, I drop to my knees. The fuzzy bath mat offering little cushion for my landing as pain shoots through my legs. Leaning against the cold porcelain of the toilet, I lose my dinner.

How many more nights of this do I have to suffer through? I’m free. I survived.

I’ll never be free again, I’m caged in the memories of my tormentor.

Tears burn my eyes as I try to compose myself.

No more fucking crying, Mallory. Get your shit together,a voice growls in my subconscious.

Knock. Knock.

“Baby, are you okay?” Guilt eats me alive as I wake him in the middle of the nightagain.I wonder if he’d be better off without me…undoubtedly he would be. I’m a waste of space, traumatized piece of shit.

I killed someone who didn’t deserve it.

You also killed someone who did deserve it.

This incessant voice in my head is going to send me to a fucking padded room, I swear. It drives me closer and closer to giving into that urge that squirms uncomfortably beneath my skin every day.

I can’t, it’s wrong.

But it feels so good,it coos.

I’m splitting apart at the seams.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Mallory?”

“Yeah, Ghost?”

I hear his sharp intake of breath. It brings a wicked smirk to my face. I know what that nickname does to him, and maybe it’s sick of me to manipulate him like this, but I don’t want to be coddled. I’ve been back for just over a month now, and he hasn’t touched me at all. Maybe I can get his hands on me instead of dreaming about it this time. He doesn’t want to push me into anything, I get it. I don’t want to rush him either. Grief eats at everyone differently, and I can’t put a time limit onwhen Nox will feel right again. Not only has my fucked-up ass stumbled back here in barely one piece, he’s running the precinct now. Planning a funeral and saying goodbye to his last family member has taken a toll on him—I can see it, feel it. We may not be as ‘in-tune’ with each other as before, but I can see the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I just wanted to know if you needed anything?”

You. I need you.

“No, I’m okay. Thanks, be out in a minute,” I reply. Closing the toilet lid, and flushing away the last remnants of my nightmare-induced panic attack, I stand and turn towards the mirror. My hair is a tangled mess, eyes sunken with dark bags under them.