Page 15 of Chalk Outline

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t know.” He cocks his head to the side, waiting for me to reach out and grab it.

“Why did you kill him?” I ask.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“Only two so far.”

I have a stun gun in my thigh bag that I’d be happy to use, and I bet he has a gun in his. But deep down, I know it’s not the look of a madman; it’s the look of someone who fights for something worth fighting for. A purpose.

I just need to find an angle that will get me somewhere.

I eat the gap between us until the tip of the knife presses against my chest and breathe the unapologetic air he exhales.

The rain intensifies, and a series of thunder rumbles ominously.

“If I were one of the killers, don’t you think I would be killing you by now?” He continues to play with me, for now.

“They only kill the sacrificed.”

“True,” he nods, “but I bet they can make an exception foryou.”

“Maybe instead of threatening me, do it.” I press myself a little harder against the knife. It stings. But it’s nothing compared to the pain I live with daily. “Was he one of them?”

“Sadly, no, just mine.” He slightly pulls the knife back as if he doesn’t want it to harm me, and I knit my eyebrows together.

My curiosity piqued.

I slowly open my thigh bag. “So, you show up to parties and kill innocent people?”

“He is far from innocent.” The amusement in his voice turns to irritation. His eye contact is unwavering, and I watch his pupils dilate like a lost echo that shudders within me.

My fingers curve around the stun gun. “How so?”

He clicks his tongue three times. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that.”

“There are way too many secrets in this place.” I gaze into his eyes, trying to uncover a fraction of the truth.

“Everyone has secrets.” He gazes at me as if we are the last two survivors in a world reduced to ashes.

“Then I’ll be the first to seek answers. And I have so many questions.” Despite my inability to see his expressions, his eyes are enough to determine that he may be my answer or at least assist me in finding one.

“What if you don’t like what you hear?” He drags the knife slowly across my collarbone.

I drop the gun back into the bag. “It’ll be up to me to decide, but at least I’ll know the truth.”

“What is true? The truth often lies.” His voice sharpens. But the sincerity in that statement makes it hurt even more. “Does death seem appealing to you?” His eyes roam down my body and return to meet my unfazed stance.

“It’s not the worst thing that can happen.” I eye him back.

“No, it’s not. It usually saves you a lot of heartaches.”

I break into a smile. “Spot on.”

“You know most people would be scared shitless right now, but not you.”

“Surpriiise,” I drag out the end of the word.

He suppresses a chuckle and looks me dead in the eyes until his expression shifts, more like energy, into something far more sinister.