Page 52 of Bound to a Killer

I should say something. Anything. But the words are too thick for me to form, my throat knotted tight. Then I stiffen, the words completely smothered away at the feel of a sharp point digging into my spine.

“Is she okay?” the guy asks. “Am I being punked or something?” His head twists around like he’s searching for a camera, but there’s nothing there.

The streetlamp buzzes, too loud against the silence.

I jerk when the blade pushes deeper into me, a clear warning, just before a long arm swing over my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. “She’s fine, just gets overwhelmed easily.”

The way he says it makes my skin crawl, his tone holding a subtle mock, directed at my failed attempt to run away.Again.

“She doesn’t look fine to me.”

I hold my breath.

“Look, I didn’t want to say anything, but…” Ledger leans closer to whisper, his voice brushes my ear, the tension sinking like an electric current down my spine. “It’s the drugs.”

What did he just say?

Drugs?

The guy’s mouth rounds into an O, brows arched ridiculously high as the words sink in.

My hands ball into tight fists, my chin quivering as I dip my head out of view—like I have anything to be ashamed of. But the shame runs deeper than simply being humiliated in front of some stranger; it’s rooted in my failure. Again. This time, like a hammer to a nail.

How much of this comes down to fate?

Maybe it was always my cross to carry. I can’t force anyone else’s trajectory, no matter how hard I try. It was never really up to me in the first place.

Maybe escaping the will of the universe is just too grand for anyone, let alone a girl like me. It’s brutal and unfair. But that’s life.

It took long enough, but I’m starting to realize resistance is never going to save me from the path I’ve been given. Fighting it only makes the outcome hurt worse.

Like mother, like daughter. I guess life never really gave us a real chance.

When Ledger speaks above me again, I barely register it. I feel numb. His arms still snaked tight around me. “Well,” he says before breathing through his teeth. “We better get going. Sorry to disturb you.”

The sear in my chest turns to a dull ache as their exchange funnels through my ears unintelligibly. His nod looks a little out of focus in my vision.

“Stay away from drugs, kid,” the driver reprimands.

I recoil deeper into myself. My eyes blur over as I take my final glance inside the car, still holding out for hope that he’ll notice something off and stop us, but he doesn’t. The windows roll back up and I’m being steered further from the white beacon of hope that was the beat up, compact Toyota.

A tear warms my cheek, then quickly followed by another as I look around for anyone that can help. But I’m only met with more suffocating silence.

The white Toyota pulls out of its parking spot, and I watch out of the corner of my eyes as it drives off, taking my fragile hope along with it. I don’t really blame him for not wanting to get involved. Something like this would’ve freaked anyone out, especially at night in an empty parking lot.

It wouldn’t have ended well for either of us. Deep down, Iknew that from the moment he caught up to me. You can’t escape the will of the universe, remember?

“That was stupid. Real stupid,” he says over my head, his knife hidden in his sleeve still at my backside.

I bite the inside of my cheek to hold in a sob that’s climbing up my throat, but a few choked whimpers slip through anyway.

We pass his BMW. Confused, I twist my neck to the side and squint through its windows, but nobody is inside. “What’s…Where are we going?”

He steers me toward a grey, paint-chipped Mazda, then yanks it open before forcefully pushing me inside without another word.

The door slams behind me and I break, unable to hold back the steady stream of tears anymore, each ragged breath hitting my body hard. I can’t stop any of it, and I don’t try to anymore.

Frankie cups a hand over her mouth but doesn’t say anything as Ledger shoves a key into the ignition to get the car started.