Page 21 of Escape

“Did what?”

“I fucked her. But I was thinking about you the whole time, baby, I swear! You haven’t wanted to touch me lately. I thought you hated me!”

My mouth hung open in disbelief, clutching the handle of the hammer so hard I thought it would snap in half. I lunged toward him, lifting it high over my head.

“You fucking self-absorbed asshole. I don’t give a shit if you fucked her. DID YOU FUCKING KILL HER?!”

“YEEESS!” He screamed it from the depths of his soul.

His face was so close. His rancid breath wafted across my face. My muscles stiffened in the same way they always did when he yelled at me.

But, fuck that. This was the last time he’d make me feel small.

“Yes! I killed the bitch…YES! The whore tried to-”

My body moved faster than my mind. Cracked teeth, blood and saliva flew through the air like confetti. His head snapped to the side and slumped over.

Silence. For once in his life, he shut the hell up.

Shit, did I kill him?

I studied his face, trailing my glare down to where his chest just barely rose and fell.

Sighing in relief, I replaced the hammer on the desk and my eye caught the sharp, shining scalpel. I cringed as a sick idea rattled through my brain.

A weak, metallic taste burst over my tongue as I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth. I wasn’t sure if it was mine or Jared’s blood, but the iron sting was enough to momentarily distract me from what my body was doing.

My fingers wrapped around the cool, metal scalpel. With shaky hands, I cautiously crept toward my knocked-out husband. The sight of him had been making me sick for years, but now it was pure disgust that filled my belly when I looked at him.

That poor woman, who was just trying to make a living, must have been terrified in the last moments of her life. I took a deep breath and shook out my shoulders. I would make sure he felt the same before he died.

Lifting the neck of his t-shirt, I sawed a hole through the middle. When it was wide enough, I shoved my fingers through and ripped it open, right down the middle. He twitched, but didn’t wake up.

His chest dripped with sweat, the untidy hair sticking to his skin…I had to fight back the vomit that burned its way up my esophagus.

I tilted my head, contemplating what I would adorn him with. There were so many fitting words for such a disgusting human, it was hard to pick just one. Maybe I just needed to start and the inspiration would come to me, like a painter.

I pressed the blade of the scalpel against his skin, gentle at first, increasing the pressure slowly to test how much it would take to slice through. It didn’t take long.

When the first drop of blood dripped and mixed with the sweat, the inspiration took over. I dragged the blade down in a long, mostly straight line. Jared’s body tensed the second I lifted the blade again.

It took him a moment to come back and realize what was happening. He glared down at his chest in disbelief. His mouth hung open. It was like his brain wasn’t fully processing the cuts in his skin, delaying the feeling of pain.

That wouldn’t do.

Without acknowledging him, I continued my work. I carved two more lines at an angle, connecting them to the first. His brain and body finally connected when I finished the K, his screams echoing throughout the room. But I didn’t mind. I couldn’t even make out what he was saying over the thrumming in my ears.

He deserved every second of agony for what he did to her. For what he did to me.

His skin split like butter under my tool, creating a dripping, crimson masterpiece. By the time I was finished, his voice had gone hoarse from screaming. I stepped back and admired my work, a strange calm melting over me.

KILLER

That’s exactly what he was. Of so many things. Of women. Of hopes and dreams. Of everything I was.

Chapter 18

Jasmine