Vacant (Empathy #3) (10 page)

DREAM AFTER DREAM AND ALL the same. Hannah drowning by my hand.

I underestimated my dad’s reach. He’s the shit where we live, I know that. He’s respected and people look up to him but I had no idea he has a fierce reputation that spans through other cities. The police came to ask me some questions but they were more nervous than me. They appeared embarrassed to be asking me questions with my dad glaring at them. They kept telling me there was nothing to worry about and apologizing, telling me it was routine and they had to ask me some questions because other girls had mentioned the fight I had with Hannah. They assured me Hannah is more than likely safe and just acting out and will show up soon. Dad agreed but still tried to get me to go home with him. I refused and told him everything is fine. It isn’t, of course. I’m dreaming of murdering the missing girl and Ryan’s voice is not just a whisper, it’s a pounding in my head.

“D
ON’T SHOW MERCY, DON’T SHOW REGRET. ONLY BLOOD, ONLY DEATH, ONLY VENGEANCE, SWEET CEREUS.”

My mind is splintering. I know this isn’t normal but fear freezes my lips when my dad asks if everything is okay. What if I tell him everything? Would he lock me away with the crazy people? Am I crazy?

“Y
OU’RE EXCEPTIONAL.”

A week has passed and they still haven’t found Hannah. Is it because she’s dead somewhere?

“We running or what?” Randal drags me from my inner turmoil.

“I feel like a tornado ripped through my life and left my emotions in chaos and everyone around me rebuilds but I’m lost in the destruction and I’m not sure I will ever heal from it, or if I want to.” I whisper, looking at him for I don’t even know what. An answer to life’s problems?

“Some people are born with tragedy in their blood.”

“Or evil,” I quip.

“Evil is like beauty; it’s in the eye of the beholder.” He grins and then grabs my hand. “Some people use a blade for evil, some people use their tongues which are sharper and make people bleed better than any knife can. Some people are born dark, others become it.”

“What if I was born dark?”

“Would you rather be the person doing the cutting or the person apologizing for their blood staining your clothes while they bleed out?” he asks, and my mouth drops open, making him chuckle.

“Can you love the sinner despite the sin?” I ask and he shrugs.

“You’d know better than me. Come on, let’s run.”

THE DOOR SLAMS AND HEAVY feet stomp outside the bathroom where I came to shower. Luckily I only got as far as cutting a lose thread from my sweater and I’m still fully clothed.

“Cereus?” The handle drops and the door swings open. Tom stands in the open space, glaring at me. “What did you do?” he shouts.

I place my scissors back on the counter and raise a brow. He throws one of the flyers at me. “They’re all over campus! Why would you do that?”

I grab the piece of paper showing a naked Tom and me, and I scrunch it up. “Nice to see you too. Get out!” I command, raising my hand to gesture for him to leave but instead he closes the distance between us and grabs my biceps in a fierce grip

“You’re a fucking bitch! Do you not care that everyone thinks you’re a whore now?”

I try and tear from his hold but it’s useless, he’s twice my size. “You think I would print these off and post them everywhere? Are you serious? Your girlfriend did this!”

“You took that fucking picture, Cereus! What, was it so you could boast about fucking me?”

Did he really say that?

“Boast? Seriously? God, why would I boast about that? I don’t know what Hannah sees in you!” I spit, trying to force myself free.

His hand leaves my arm briefly then impacts my cheek. The world around me gets swallowed by the grey mist, a ringing floods my ears and the burn from his hand hitting my cheek flares like a wild fire spreading across the right side of my face. The copper taste of blood fills my mouth from my tooth cutting my gum and then rage saturates my body. Total darkness.

“I
’M DEVOTED TO THE DARKNESS. TO YOU.”

My body feels like someone has injected lead into my veins. I can’t move and everything is groggy, like I’ve woke up trapped in a thunder cloud. My chest is constricted and I realize someone is on top of me. The cold tiles seep through my clothing, alerting me that I’m on my bathroom floor. My hand lifts from a sticky substance that’s coating the tiles and panic races through my body, ricocheting off every nerve ending.
Blood.

I fight my way free from the weight on top of me. I can’t control the tremors rocking my body.

“No, no, no . . .”

Tom’s lying before me, the scissors from the counter sticking out of the side of his neck, a crimson lake all around him, the smell intoxicating me. I can taste the bitter tang on my tongue. Oh God, has it gone in my mouth? I rush to the basin, almost slipping on the blood. I turn the tap and notice the blood varnishing my fingers and palms. Scrubbing at my hands I almost take the skin off, the water runs too hot, burning my flesh. My own reflection makes me jump when I see myself in the mirror. I’m covered in his life; my clothes, skin, hair all painted red.
I killed him?
My hand shoots up to smother my sob. This must be a nightmare. I pinch my arm to try and wake myself but all I get is a light sting. I rush away from the sink but this time I do slip on the blood and hit the floor with a thud, pain firing up my back and robbing me of breath. I scramble to get up but it’s too slippery and I turn and stumble over and over. It’s like hands are holding me in place to witness my sin; to taste it, smell it, drown in it. Sobs wrench from my body and hysteria takes over me.

“T
HE RUSH OF THE BLOOD WAS LIKE A SURGING SEA, CEREUS. BEAUTIFUL.”

I MISS HER. RAGE IS potent in my chest and if I don’t go to her I’m going to go on a killing spree, and with the amount of officers patrolling the campus, I’m bound to be shot before getting a good number count.

It didn’t take much work to find out that Hannah had it in for Cereus and that she had vandalized the painting of me that shouldn’t have been put anywhere but in a place Cereus and I settled. I made a few calls to the art gallery to find out who the buyer was. They only had a first name, and it was Randal. Who names their child Randal?

Some little slut was more than willing to share a picture of Cereus and some soon-to-be dead guy posing after a sexual act. This isn’t like my girl; she’s above all this petty behavior. What had I left her in? I regret leaving her and regret isn’t something I’m used to feeling, but that’s Cereus for you. She has a way of stirring up feelings inside me I’ve never experienced before. She wove herself deep inside me, owning me. I’m hers and she’s mine. I need to go to her.