Take Me With You(115)

“I saw you with Johnny. I always wanted someone like you when I was l-little. I've dreamt of someone like you m-my whole life. And you would've been the same way with our boy.”

“Boy?” I utter. We were going to have a little boy.

“You needed me to save you.”

Sam turns away again, giving me room to make the choice. I can take him out of his misery and live in mine. Or, I can forget the man in the mask, and chose the one before me, the one who I know would die for me. And I can find some sort of peace in that.

I slide my finger along the trigger. Toying with the idea of pulling it. What would happen then? His victims would never know. They would never get any closure. Unless I leave the box here with his body. Each souvenir could tie back to the people he's hurt.

I pull a hand away from the gun for a second just to wipe my blurred eyes.

Right. Sometimes the choice is so clear. But for the past couple of years, my heart and my mind have not agreed. And here in this moment, there are two types of right. The one for everyone else, and the one for me.

You don't stare the devil in the eyes and come out without some of his sin. You can't beat the devil without becoming like him. You can't appeal to his kindness, so you have to learn to play his games. You lie, you fuck, you manipulate, you fight, you hurl insults, until you do whatever it takes to win the battle. Every time you do those things, you understand him a little more. Until finally, he becomes your ally. You think you've won, that you've made him more like you. But the truth is, it's the other way around. So that even when you win, you've lost.

Sam waits, patiently, as if he has already come to terms with both fates.

But I'm not a killer. Each step closer I get to doing it, the harder it becomes. So that leaves me with only one choice. He must know that. Just like all the other choices I had with him, there was only ever one option. It's the very reason he wants me above anyone else. I am that girl he saw with Johnny. I don't hurt people, I nurture. He wants someone all to himself. I want to be the complete center of someone's universe for once.

I offered myself as the sacrifice. That's what got me taken in the first place. And if it means saving others, I'll do it again.

I firm my grip around the gun, stiffening my arms in one last show of strength, and let them fall at my side. This time, Sam, the athlete that has outrun bystanders and cops on foot dozens of times, rolls over and is in front of me in a flash, but he doesn't lash out. No, he softly strips the gun from my hand. He opens the revolver and shakes the bullets into his palm before tossing them onto the bed.

The same hands that he has used to hurt me, he uses to hold me up as I weep with my entire body.

“Shhhh,” he whispers, stroking my head. “No one loves you like I do.”

Love. I never dared use that word with him. It felt too perverse. But if what we are doing for each other isn't love—if letting me live at the almost guaranteed cost of his own freedom isn't it—if lying to the police and my family to let Sam live out his life isn't—then what is?

He caresses my hair as I melt into his chest. I have tamed him. He is mine and mine alone. I will keep you all safe from him.

“I know,” I answer, softly nodding against his warm chest.

It feels good—the way floating in that lake would make me feel light and easy—to let go of that weight. To take that final breath and let myself sink down so far, that I realize I don't want it all to end. I want to live. I want him. I choose him.





It's going to take her some time to get used to it all, but she will, just like she did before. I know I am a lucky man to have her, and I'll make sure she never regrets it. I wasn't lying about the promise I made. I don't need to hunt anymore. I've gotten my prize. I had to show her my commitment, even if it meant she heard my flaws. I wouldn't know until I spoke, whether I would sound like a babbling incoherent idiot or not, but living in truth truly is the greatest remedy. It'll only get better, speaking to her, the way it did around my mother. Though the night will always be my home, I finally have a place in the sun with Vesp.

It's funny how I can finally speak to her, but we spend most of the afternoon in bed, staring at each other. I wipe the tears from her glowing cheeks. I watch her settle into the decision she made. As each minute passes, she seems easier. This is what she wanted. She just needed permission to want it. Vesper is good. I needed to make her feel like this was a good thing. That by putting that gun down, she was still protecting people.

I've decided, with Vesper's approval, of course, that I'll be grilling up some burgers for dinner tonight. God, I feel good. I feel…happy. It was a long shot, this whole thing, but in the end, it all paid off. Planning and focus always does.

I fumble around with the charcoal so that it perfectly frames the box. For so long, it was my only way to feel connected to the thrill of those moments. But they weren't real, now that I have something that is, I know this. Every time I used to open that box, the memories got a little foggier, the emotional connection a little weaker.

I squirt an obscene amount of lighter fluid on the thing and the surrounding charcoals, and throw a match in. I jump back as the flames shoot up. I keep the fire going, sweat pouring over my brow as I use a grill fork to open the box and add fuel to the contents. A smiling picture of a couple I don't even remember curls as the flames overtake it.