Page 33 of Killer Bones

“I think…you said you’d skin me alive while they fucked all my holes.” Ugh.

“Yeah. I did. He was going to make me kill you immediately, and I was trying to give him reasons to keep you alive. I was also being an asshole, pushing my toughness agenda to get Montez liking me. I am sorry.”

He sits forward and takes my hand. “There is something I can give you that you might find it difficult to say yes to.”

“Guessing here but…” I twist my mouth, my face, until it almost hurts. I inhale, feeling his fingers stroke my palm. “Kill me before it gets bad? Is that it?”

“Yes. Though even that might not be easy to do.”

The room wobbles, spins. I duck my head, gulp back the nausea. If I throw up, least I’m near the drain. I grab onto his hand.

“Thank you. I mean it. No matter what.”

“We both know I don’t deserve that.”

True. Real true. Before Montez, he was compelled but he has just pretty much forced me, again, even if I enjoyed the hell out of it, so why is he contrite?

The why is still out there, unsaid. The room has stopped wobbling, and so has my stomach.

“What happened? I’m not connecting the dots. Why are you suddenly being nice?”

The shower patters onward. We may be using the entire ship’s supply of water.

We should turn it off soon, before they come to investigate.

“A very good question. Maybe we shouldn’t dig too deep on that in case I change my mind. Because right now, I feel like I’ve gone completely fucking mad.” He crushes my hand, releases the pressure. “You’re still trembling.”

Duh. “Please? I need to know.”

“Insistent little…thing, aren’t you. It was something you said earlier. Something you did too.”

“Okay.” I have no idea what he’s referring to, but I’ll hang onto every chance I can get. “Can you say more than that?”

“Oh god.” He pulls his hand from mine and buries his head in his hands.

I’m sitting here wide-eyed and stunned. This outright killer of a man is having some sort of breakdown? Maybe?

I’m tempted to do something to help him.

Sighing, I start to wriggle over to him. Then I give up and get onto my knees and crawl to him. I lose a towel in the journey, but I sit beside him and wrap my arms over and around his much-larger body.

“If I say, there, there, and rub your back?”

“You’re dead even quicker,” he growls. Then he pulls my arms from around him, hauls me over his lap, and gives my rear a loud slap. “Fuck. Are you a brat?”

“Never.” But I’m smiling at the floor.

The smile is a bit sad, and I might be dead tomorrow, but what is the saying? Carpe diem. Yeah that. Seize the mutherfuckin’ day.

13

Izzy

After our talk, I slip on the dress then lie down and close my eyes. Which I’ll bet Adelmo is grateful for. Sleeping means frittering away the last hours of my life, but being drugged has nuked my mind with a fatigue that abruptly drags me under.

When I wake, it is late afternoon, according to his laptop clock.

They brought us a meal while I was asleep, and since it is some sort of gourmet burger, cold as it is, I dig in and eat what he has left me. Despite his earlier promises, I’m left alone when using the toilet facility. What he said to me next to the shower must have affected him. The man is not morose, but he is subdued, compared to when I was revived from the sedation.