Page 108 of King of Hollywood
I needed to even the playing field.
I needed to tell him my secret too.
So I raised my hands, hovering them on either side of the stranger’s head. He didn’t move, still frozen. His skin was warm, and his pulse fluttered beneath my fingers as I closed my hands around his head. I should’ve felt bad for what I was about to do—but I didn’t.
He’d touched Felix.
The fact that it hadn’t been sexual didn’t matter.
He’d touched Felix.
And for that he deserved to die.
So I squeezed—and as easily as if I’d done it a thousand times before—I twisted his neck.
The last of our secrets fell away—quite literally—as a sickening, delicious snapping sound filled the room. Moments later, his body crumpled, falling to the floor in a broken heap. Uncaring, as my point had been made—and my eyes were reserved for one man, and one man only—I stepped over the corpse. My gaze never left Felix’s face. I didn’t miss the way his eyes widened, or the way he’d flinched, staring at me the same way I stared at him.
Two predators, recognizing each other for what they were for the first time.
My heart was pounding—I reached for Felix with the same hands I’d used to kill his guest. It was a gamble. I wasn’t sure he’d accept me now that he’d seen what I could do. There was no mistaking how practiced the motion had been.
And I was certain…he was having a few revelations of his own.
Probably about why I knew how to dispose of bodies.
Why it had been second nature for me to latch onto his kills and drag them through the woods.
Why I’d crossed the street and offered him help that first night.
“Good evening,” I’d said, standing in his jungle of a yard while I watched him struggle with the corpse. “Would you like a hand with that?”
My bones creaked as my hand hovered, waiting in empty space—lonely.
Felix had asked me over dinner once if I ever got lonely. Until he’d asked, I hadn’t noticed. But since then…every day I was without him was the new loneliest day of my life. He completed me in a way that even killing never had. He smoothed my ragged edges. I didn’t feel empty or odd when he was around. I felt…like myself in a way I never had before.
Which was why it was only natural to meet him in the middle, once again.
So I told him the truth, answering his honesty with my own, one last time.
“I’m a monster too.” My hand trembled. I waited.
Outside, the sound of footsteps should’ve registered. People crossing the street and heading toward Barry’s, probably. I sucked in a breath, my lips wobbling. Felix stared into my eyes, searching them.
His eyes said, Marshall, Marshall, Marshall.
And then, his hand slipped into mine. I squeezed. Tighter than was probably necessary—but in that moment, all I wanted was to feel him squeeze back. And squeeze back he did, tight—tighter than a human should’ve been able.
We fell together like we always had, gasoline to flame.
His lips tasted coppery sweet, salty and lovely. I licked into his mouth, chasing the last traces of blood as I yanked him into my arms—uncaring of the body on the floor at our feet. He was as light as ever—and yet, I felt lighter.
I’d never thought acceptance could feel this good.
I’d fought for it over the years, yes. Fought for it when we moved from the farm to the city, and I learned that there were new ways to fit in that I hadn’t known about before. I’d fought for it at college, at the same time I fought for my degrees. I fought for it when I moved here—attending Barry’s parties because I was terrified of sticking out too much.
Acceptance had never tasted like blood before.
It had never felt like Felix’s body against mine, his legs around my hips, his hands in my hair.
