Alternative

| Chapter Twenty Three

For a moment, I can't hear. Can't see. I have the knife in my hand, the weapon that can end this, but rather than feel safe, I feel sick.

Emery's crying face comes to mine. Tension grips my chest. I think of everything I have done to her, for her, and internally, I yell at myself to pull it together. There is no time to waste on panic, on fear.

"Ray!"

At the sound of my name, I turn fast; so fast, I see stars. In my dizzying spin, I stumble back into the counter. My shoe slides into the barstool. As I suck in a deep breath and widen my eyes, I see her, Elizabeth. She's closer. Running. Harder than my heart can beat.

"You're ruining everything!" Both of her hands stretch out in front of her, aiming for my face. The sudden reach makes me shift, pressing further back against the counter. I almost drop my knife.

"Ray!"

Holding my weapon tight, I don't let it slip out of my fingers. I move it forward, into her, just as her nails scratch my neck. "Why can't you see that I did all of this for you!" she screams. "Why! Why!"

The tip of the knife is just an inch from her face when she grabs my wrist and forces my arm back. Sweat breaks out of her forehead and mine as we both growl in frustration. Saliva slips out from between her teeth as she bares them. "Why!"

I push her off me and watch her fall. "You're crazy!" I shout back, rage shooting up through me. I can see the tears in her eyes glisten red with the same amount of anger. Seeing her press herself up to stand makes me move and jump, tackling her back down onto the floor. "Fucking crazy!"

The knife is up again, my arm high above my head. It takes all my strength to bring it down.

But Elizabeth moves her head and the knife crashes against the floor. Stuck.

"I do this for you!" She punches me in the side. Her elbows slams against my cheek. Pain explodes in my head. "All for you! Just remember you love me!"

I squeeze one eye shut as she rolls from under me. Her hands reach for my shoulders, my neck, but I push them away, and her. And grab my knife again.

"I don't love you," I hiss loudly, looking at her as she scrambles to her feet. "I don't even know you!"

"I just showed you I know you! I proved to you we were meant to be!" She cups her hands in front of her. Tears stream down her face, into her mouth, over her lips.

But I take no pity in her sadness. I rush towards her again and we collide with the dining table behind her. She screams so loud I think my eardrums burst. I hear ringing and sirens in place of sound.

The police. They're here. So close.

"I know everything about you!" Her hands are on my neck, again. Nails in my skin, breaking through flesh. I feel the heat of the impact, the cool, burning sensation of blood dripping into the collar of my shirt. "Every little detail of your life is my favorite book, Ray, and I... I need it!"

The knife falls from my hands as I drop it. My hands grab her face, cupping it perfectly. Light illuminates her eyes as if she has a glimmer of hope, of need, but I don't give her what she needs.

I straddle her. And slam her head back down on the floor. Her next scream is weak, quiet.

Looking down at her face, I hiss, "You're sick." I reach over her for my knife. "A fucking sick freak."

"I know," she whimpers, watching me, not fighting back. "I told you, everything thinks I'm a freak."

Muffled screaming carries into the kitchen. Emery and Joe, still taped to their chairs, make a noise with every move I make.