Page 35
Story: These Shattered Memories
I lift the knife that rests on the kitchen table. It’s a small switchblade, but it’s sharp with a decent grip. Alex follows my hand, his eyes widening at the sight of the glinting steel. Realisation dawns on him. He’s not going anywhere until I let him go.IfI let him go.
Right now, all signs point to no.
“Now, are you ready to talk?” I ask him.
“Talk about what?” he shoots back. “I told you I didn’t play you.”
I sigh loudly. “The police think we’re tied to a body found at the docks.”
Alex stares at me blankly.
“The only person who knew about that girl being at Summit that night is you. Not to mention, you were there last night too. So, how can I not think you played me? I still don’t know why you came to me.”
He laughs, shaking his head like I’m the one missing the point. He’s lost his initial panic now, and he’s looking at me with an enviable serenity, like he doesn’t believe I’ll actually kill him.
“You keep reminding me why that was a terrible idea on my part,” he says. “But I didn’t do it. You know that because it wouldn’t make sense.”
“Do I?” I ask, although doubt is starting to creep in. “You’ve done it before.”
He lets out a quiet breath and meets my eyes. “I don’t regret what I did back then. I can’t apologise for it because you would have done the same if you were in my position.”
“No, you didn’thaveto do anything,” I push.
“Ahh yes, of course the pampered prince of The Snake would think someone like me is afforded the luxury of choice in his life.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, spare me from the ‘woe is me; I grew up poor’speech. No one gives a fuck.”
Alex barks out a laugh. “Still a dick, I see.”
I should kill him.
“Why did you come to me about Haze. You must have known this is how things would end?”
This time Alex shrugs, as if resigned to his fate. “It was a chance I was willing to take.” He meets my eyes, and a shiver goes up my spine. “Are you going to kill me?”
I stand up straight and he watches me, mouth set in a line. I place the knife at the base of his throat, but he doesn’t cry outor flinch when I press lightly, breaking through skin enough for a stream of crimson to flow down to his chest, settling in a red stain on his white shirt.
I release the pressure, sliding the knife down his throat and down to his chest, forcing open the buttons of his shirt and revealing his taut torso, glistening with sweat. His chest rises and falls rapidly as his shirt falls open at his sides, but no words leave his mouth.
I don’t let myself look into his eyes. My head is buzzing and everything feels too heightened between us. I just need to push deeper into his side, and he’ll bleed out right here in his kitchen.
Hayden and Xander would slap my back in congratulations and maybe my mother would finally realise I have what it takes to become The Head of The Snake. Maybe I’d finally be able to get a decent night’s sleep in my own bed.
Getting rid of Alexander Kimura would improve my life exponentially.
“Maybe,” I say, my voice coming out smaller than I want it.
“There’s something I found out at Summit, something you should know first,” he says carefully. “Before you do it.”
I laugh. I know what he’s doing. I know he’s stalling. “Nope, I’m not falling for that.”
He shakes his head, but just as he does, his shirt falls to the side. My eyes land on a hint of ink on his chest.
I frown. I don’t remember him having any tattoos.
Unwillingly, my mind pulls me into another memory. Alex’s smooth skin, his naked body under me, tanned into a dusted golden colour from the summer sun. I hear him laugh and the sound is muffled, like I’m underwater and he’s far away.
I wince, forcing myself back into the present as I push aside the shirt further to fully reveal a taut nipple and something else. At first, I’m not sure what I’m looking at. The ink is delicate, the lines straight and thin.
Table of Contents
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