Page 84 of Push My Buttons

A chill runs down my spine. "Levi, you're not making sense. What's going on?"

He stops abruptly, turning to face me with an intensity that makes me take an involuntary step backward. "You don't understand, do you? You need to understand. I did it for you."

"Did what?" My voice rises slightly, fear beginning to creep in.

"Those people," Levi says, as if it should be obvious. "The ones who deserved it. We needed to... express ourselves. To satisfy the urges." His eyes take on a faraway look. "Lucien understood at first. He felt it too. We started together, him and me. Hunting the ones who'd escaped justice."

Horror dawns slowly as I process his words. "Are you saying... Lucien is the Reaper? That's insane. He wouldn't—"

"He was. Until he wasn't." Levi's voice becomes animated, excited. "We started together. Those first few—the rapist, thatcorrupt cop—we did those together. Justice mattered. But I needed something... different."

The room seems to tilt beneath my feet.

"Those girls, the ones that looked like you… I couldn't let him know how I felt so I killed them," Levi admits, almost sheepishly. "I made them look like his kills. But they were mine. All mine. So you'd know I'd never look at anyone else the way I look at you—even if they have your face."

I back toward the door, my heart pounding against my ribs. "I don't believe you. Lucien wouldn't—"

"He’s more dangerous than me… sicker… you should see what he does to his playthings… He would destroy us if he knew," Levi continues as if I hadn't spoken. "If he knew how I felt about you. What I wanted from you."

My back hits the doorframe. "What are you talking about?"

His eyes focus on me with frightening intensity. "You belong to me, Lilliana. You always have. I've watched you for years, waiting for the right time. Lucien would never have allowed it. He was too protective of you. That's why I had to get rid of him."

Understanding crashes over me. "You turned him in. You told the police Lucien was the Reaper."

Levi's smile widens. "For us. So we could be together. Don't you see? It's perfect now. He's gone. Your parents are at the police station. It's just us."

I shake my head, fear closing my throat. "No. There is no 'us,' Levi. I'm leaving. I can't stay here."

His expression darkens. "Leaving?"

"I already told my work I need time off," I say, inching toward the hallway. "I'm getting out of town until this blows over, maybe longer. I just came home to pack some clothes."

Something shifts in his eyes—a coldness replacing the manic energy. "You aren't going anywhere."

I turn to run, but he's faster. His hand catches my wrist, yanking me back with enough force that I stumble against him. His other arm wraps around my waist, pinning me against his chest.

"Let me go!" I struggle against his hold, panic rising.

"You aren't going to leave me, Lilliana," he whispers, his lips so close to my ear I can feel his breath on my skin. "You belong to me. You've always belonged to me."

His hand releases my wrist, but before I can pull away, it's at my throat. His fingers press against my windpipe, not yet squeezing but threatening.

"Levi, please," I gasp, tears springing to my eyes. "You're hurting me."

"I don't want to hurt you," he says, his voice eerily calm now. "I love you. I've always loved you. But I can't let you leave."

His fingers tighten, cutting off my air. I claw at his hand, my nails digging into his skin, but he doesn't seem to feel it. Black spots dance across my vision as I struggle to breathe.

"Mine," he whispers as I begin to lose consciousness. "You're mine."

Darkness closes in, and with my last conscious thought, I'm certain I'm dying.

"Wren? Can you hear me?"

A different voice pulls me from the nightmare—gentle, familiar. I struggle toward it, fighting against the weight of sedation and memory.

"She's starting to wake up," someone says. "Her eyelids are fluttering."