Project: Killer (Project Series Book 1) (7 page)

maggie

His words hit
me like a ton of bricks. I stared at him in awe. How could he be so mean, so hateful?
I would’ve looked at you like I did the man who I had killed the night before.
How could he think that killing someone was okay?

I wanted to reach out and grab him, to shake some sense into him. Now more than ever I wished the memories would come to the surface.

“Do you—” I paused watching his eyes grow darker. I was positive talking wasn’t anything he wanted to do. When he looked at me, I saw two things in his eyes. He either felt rage for me or he wanted to fuck me, and I wouldn’t allow that to happen. At least not in this place, and not while he was this person—this person I didn’t know.

“Do I what?” he responded gruffly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I knew something had hit him. The faraway look in his eyes gave it away. It was as if he was here, but his mind wasn’t. He was reliving the past in great detail. For some reason, it made me want to know what parts of his memory were resurfacing. If they were parts of us… memories of things we used to do. Memories of what had happened between us.

“Talk about what?” he scoffed. His fists clenched and unclenched. Right off the bat, I had gathered what his triggers were. He didn’t like being asked questions or talking about things that could trigger a feeling or an emotion.

Somewhere, somehow, I had gotten balls. I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms over my chest. “Don’t play dumb with me…” He smirked at my tone, his tongue darting out to wet his perfect bottom lip before speaking.

“Did you just threaten me?” He tilted his head sideways at me as he moved closer. My stomach filled with knots. Had I made the mistake of getting smart with him? Would he snap my neck right here, right now? Would anyone be able to get to me in time? The walls felt as if they were closing in on me.

“I just want you to talk about your feelings, the memories. I’m only doing what Gauge told me to do.” I wanted to scream the words at him, to shine a light on him, and make him understand.

“What you don’t get….” He leaned into me, his eyes glazed over and with no caring nature. Whatever the memory was, it had done nothing to bring him closer to humanity. His fist clenched as he brought his hand closer to my face. I could see the hugeness of it, the callousness of his rough skin in comparison to my own, and the desire in his eyes to reach out and grip me.

“What you don’t get,” he repeated, “is that I could very well snap your neck. I could kill you before a scream ever escaped those plump lips. I could cause you so much pain and agony you would wish for me to kill you. I could—” He paused again, unclenching his fist, and then clenching it slowly in front of my face. He was showing me what he could do with his hands… the damage he could cause.

It’s a warning.

“I could destroy you with one flick of my wrist. I could bring your very existence to an end. You should feel very lucky to have even had the chance to breathe the same air as me.” His voice was a growl that caused shivers to ripple across my skin.

“This isn’t how this is going to work.” I was annoyed. I was more than annoyed. I was pissed off. This man, the man I had spent years craving and mourning over, turned out to be an inhumane asshole. I felt nothing for him when he talked this way.

“Oh, but it is, you see, I don’t have to do this. I had more than one option, and the way it’s looking right now, option two sounds much better.”

I bit my own lip stifling the remark I wanted to make. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t allow him to keep treating me this way. His only way of hurting others was through fear, threats, and his words. Violence being his only form of communication.

“I think we’re done for the day…” I murmured getting up from my sitting position. I didn’t even look over to see what Killer would do. There was no reason for me to do so. Yet, as I stood, so did he.

I was taken back as I felt his hand dig into the soft flesh of my shoulder. He leaned into me and began to whisper. “You can’t change me. They have been trying for months to get me to talk, to release my emotions. If you think you can do any better than them, you’re just as naïve.” With every word, I felt his fingers sink deeper and deeper into my flesh. I wanted to scream, to cry out in pain. But I didn’t. I knew it was what he wanted. He wanted to feel my pain, to know I was afraid and cowering because of him.

Instead of doing either of those things, I buried the pain. I forced myself to look straight into his eyes and smile. It was that smile that would crumble him. It would bring him to his knees. He could say all he wanted how this was about the differences between the two of us, but in the end, it wasn’t.

It was about him letting the memories come. He was afraid more than anything. The fear would eat him alive if he allowed it to do so.

With a shove that had me off kilter, he released me and made his way out of the arena like a bat out of hell.

He’s scared.

He’s afraid.

He just wants to be saved.

I told myself those things over and over again. As I walked down the hallway, as I ate my dinner, and as I sat on the bed they had provided me—and when I laid down that night and closed my eyes, it was images of him that haunted me. Memories surfaced and I was unable to push them away.

“Prom is tomorrow.” I tried to sound nonchalant about it, but in reality, I wanted him to go with me. I knew he was sick and that it was risky being around everyone all at once. But I wanted him to be a high school student for once. To be able to dance under the stars, and to be happy.

“Mags, I won’t go. It has nothing to do with you and you know it.” That was my final time asking. If I asked anymore, he would lose it, and when that happened, we could go days without talking. Often he lost his temper. He never hurt me, but I had seen him hurt others. It scared me sometimes while other times it caused a zing to run through me.

“I know.” I pouted. “I just wanted one ordinary night. One day where we could just go and be us.”

“That will never happen…” He sounded like he didn’t care, and it was times like this that I didn’t like. When he was at the point of helplessness. When he was close to breaking.

“You’re a pretender, Diesel. Of course, it will happen. It happens every day. So what? You’re dying. Live for today, live for tomorrow, but never, I mean never try to say it won’t happen. It’s happening right now. You’re breathing and that in itself is normal.” I didn’t want to yell, but I couldn’t hold back my anger.

I heard his deep inhale and exhale, and a shiver ran through me as he stood and walked over from his chair. He stopped right in front of me, his face full of aggression. When his hand came up to the side of my cheek, I shied away. He gripped my chin hard, pulling my face into his.

His breath blew softly across my cheeks. “I’m not a pretender. I’m a realist. Someone who only wants to protect you. Everything I do, Mags, I do for your own good.” His lips pressed against my forehead hard as if he were trying to force his anger out in that one singular gesture.

“Protecting me would be going with me. It would be allowing us to have that one moment. It would be giving yourself a chance to let your guard down. To be free of everything. We could—” I didn’t get to finish my sentence because his hand covered my mouth as he pushed me backward. The air escaped my lungs as I landed with a thud against the brick wall.

“If she comes tomorrow, I say we run her out of there in tears.” I could hear one voice say but couldn’t place who was saying it. Diesel moved us, pushing us further into the dark corner of the art room.

“I not only say that, but we rip her dress and get a little action. I have wanted to see her goods since freshman year.” I knew that voice. I gasped against Diesel’s hand in astonishment. Even in the darkness, I could see the ‘I told you so’ look marring his face.

“I agree. Her tits are huge… Makes me wonder if they’re even real,” the other voice said as they moved over to the art supply room. I desperately wanted to speak out against them. To tell them just how wrong all the things they were saying and planning on doing were.

“Wherever Mrs. Jane said the supplies were, she was wrong. I can’t find fucking shit in here,” Roger said, wandering out of the supply room and back over to the table where Diesel and I had been sitting. He stared at it for a long time before glancing around the room. I knew he couldn’t see us in the corner where there was no light. There was no way, yet with his prying eyes on us, I felt anything but safe.

“Is it me or does it look like someone was here?” Roger mocked, looking around the room again as if at any point in time someone would jump out and get him.

His friend, who I was finally able to see, was no other than Monty James. He plucked the paper Diesel had been working on right off the table.

“Name on the top says Diesel,” Monty said to Roger before crumbling the piece of paper up. I shook in fear. I know it was wrong to be scared, to not stand up to them, but there was nothing that could be done.

“I’m going to go out there and get them to leave. Stay here, please.” Diesel’s voice pleaded with me as he whispered before pulling away from me. The warmth left my body as I watched him step away and into the light.

“And there he is…” Roger sounded overjoyed. His happiness felt like a cold bucket of water being doused on me.

“Just leave. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that bullying me will get you nowhere. Who bullies someone who is dying? And when did it become okay to do this?” Diesel was trying to reason with him. He always tried, but it never did him any good. The look in Roger’s eyes told me his words meant nothing.

“Leave? That would be doing something you want. No one ever believes you when you tell them what we do.” Roger shrugged, growing closer to Diesel. I wanted to escape the dark corner and go save him, but I knew he would never forgive me.

“Go. Get away from me.” I could feel the tension filling the room. The anger in Diesel’s voice scared me, forcing me to stay frozen in place.

“Ahhh, are you the big bad wolf?” Both the boys laughed. Then Roger did something I never saw coming. He lunged at Diesel, his fist landing against Diesel’s head. With the sickness already causing him weakness, he fell to the floor where they both jumped him. I forced a hand over my mouth to stifle my screams as he faced me, his eyes telling me not to move. Minutes passed as the sound of bone hitting skin filled the room while blood dripped to the floor. Every crimson drop reminded me how much I truly hated these people.

Once they were done beating the shit out of him, I scurried to the corner and held Diesel on the floor, allowing tears to fall from my eyes. I understood what he meant now. I was scared, too. I was so fucking scared, and when Diesel was gone, I wondered if I would be able to hold on. I was scared of a life without him more than I feared anything else.

killer

Every day for
the past week was the same. Maggie and I would meet up every evening in the arena. We would argue going back and forth about my so-called shit behavior. She would try to invoke an emotion inside of me other than anger, but it never worked. I was either really fucking turned on around her or I was pissed off.

“How have your memories been?” she asked calmly as if she were analyzing me. She had gotten over her fear faster than I thought she would. Now she was more open and daring about the answers she wanted. I didn’t want to answer her. She didn’t need to know the memories had been coming at me from all angles every single night this past week, and how talking to her was just causing more of them to resurface.

“I have a question for you. Why the fuck did you sign up to do this?” I glared at her. There was more to the story than she was letting on. I knew she could at least go home and back to her normal life. Gauge had ways of keeping someone like her quiet. Her reason for being here wasn’t that she had to be...

Her eyes refused to meet mine as they moved everywhere but to my face. Oh, fuck yes. There was definitely something going on below the surface.

“I didn’t sign up for anything,” she mumbled. Her cheeks warmed as if in embarrassment. What did she have to be embarrassed about?

“Then why are you still here?” I seethed, allowing a mask of anger to fall upon my face. I hated it when people felt as if they could lie to me. This was the problem with trusting people like her. You couldn’t.

“First, it’s not as if I really want to be here.” She held up one finger signaling that there were a number of excuses coming my way. “Secondly, I can’t leave…” She hid her face behind her long brown hair. I hated when people failed to make eye contact. Even more, I hated how she refused to meet my eyes. Sometimes, all it took was one look for me to understand.

“What else? There can’t just be two fucking reasons as to why you can’t leave…” I growled in frustration. Yammering about nothing did me no good. I didn’t want to be around her, and I definitely didn’t want to have to talk to her.

“Diesel, when did you—” Her voice stopped, her eyes growing the size of saucers as her mind registered her mistake.

Diesel.

I had heard that name before. It was one often said in my dreams. The doe-eyed girl who was smiling, her face full of happiness, always said it.

“Who is he?” I asked urgently, now knowing Maggie was the key to finding out who Diesel was.

“Who is who?” she asked innocently. Did she think I was fucking stupid? Did she think I never cared to pay attention to the things said around me? I might have been quiet and anti-social, but I knew all that was said. In less than a second, I reached out and gripped her hard by the wrist.

“Do you think I’m stupid? Who is he?” My voice was mangled. I was on the verge of falling off the fucking cliff… into the deep darkness of void matter. I could feel my eyes growing black. I gripped at the table with my free hand. I needed something to hold me to the current world.

“I don’t think you’re stupid…” She stuttered over her words, fear overriding every other emotion in her body. I could practically see her running for the door, her fear rising, its smell so strong I could taste it.

“You do…” I growled. I was positive she was going to run—I mean, it would’ve been the logical thing to do. Instead, she looked at me, the fear dissipating into something else, something intense and raw. It wasn’t love, but it wasn’t hate. It was a balance between love and hate for herself. What I didn’t understand was why?

“No… No, I… “She paused looking around carefully. “I don’t think you’re stupid, not in the least bit. I just think you ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” Her voice was soft and quiet.

My grip on the table slacked, but only for a second, before an image appeared in my mind.
A dress, it was soft and shiny. It sparkled in the light.

“No…” I yelled my voice rising. A low whining formed in my head, and I could feel the current time slipping away as a past I didn’t remember flooded my thoughts.

“Hey… what’s the matter?” I watched as Maggie’s face filled with panic. Her image blurred out… and before me formed a new one. One of the past. One that would hopefully tell me who Diesel was.

I kicked the rocks in the driveway of my parent’s house. I hated them. The way they begged me to carry on with my life. Hell, I hated everyone. Everyone except Maggie. She was tolerable, or at least that’s what I told myself. I wasn’t man enough to admit I truly loved her. One would assume I did, considering everything I did for her. I looked up from the ground, my eyes gliding across the farmhouse as I tried to figure out if I should go to her or not.

I don’t know how many times I told her not to go. That was one thing about Maggie that drew me to her. She was a rebel, living every moment for what it was worth, and she wasn’t even the one dying.

Once I got my hands on her, her ass was going to be grass. I could still feel the bruises against my ribs and the blood dripping from my nose. I wanted to be tough, even strong for her—but the truth was, I wasn’t. I was weak and the cancer slowly destroying me from the inside out made me that way. It didn’t matter though…

But it did, a little voice always said.

“Fuck it,” I grumbled into the night air as I got into my car and headed into town. I gripped the steering wheel as if it were an extension of my own body. Like it could hold me to the ground for the time being.

The drive was short, even though it felt like an eternity, as I pulled into the parking lot. She had watched me get my ass handed to me, yet here she was playing this game with me. Was this a copout for me to admit my feelings to her? She knew we were both alone in this, and eventually, she would be left behind.

I gripped the wheel harder. Stupid, that’s what she fucking was. Stupid and reckless, and… I couldn’t force the words from my mouth, but it was right there on the tip of my tongue.

She was beautiful.

It didn’t matter what way I tried to unravel it, everything would come back to her and me. There was no fighting something hell bent on happening. I opened my car door and slammed it shut with a push of my hand. My body still ached from the beating as I wormed my way through the parking lot. There were cars everywhere. It was no fucking wonder I never wanted to go to one of these functions. Too many people and too much wasted time.

I knew where they had one of the doors unlocked. So instead of heading for the entrance, I headed to the back and up the stairs to the second story greenhouse building that lead right into the school. I had taken Maggie up there once. It was my go-to place when I was feeling alone or needed time to myself.

I pulled my phone out and looked down at the text again. She hadn’t sent it more than fifteen minutes ago. It was a standard and straight to the point Maggie text.

Mags: I don’t like it here…

That was all it said. I read it over again for good measure before heading toward the doors that were located at the back of the gym. It was on that stroll to get Maggie that I heard a scream followed by male voices. I knew better than to be caught up in any more problems. I was beaten, I was bruised, and I had absolutely no reason to be playing the hero. Yet, something told me I needed to make sure it was all okay.

I headed in the direction of the scream and came to a standstill when my eyes landed on Roger leaning over Maggie on a table. She was pawing at one of his hands that were securing her arms while he wrapped his other hand around her mouth. Tears fell from her eyes… She thought this was the end for her. Her eyes connected with mine, and I could see the overwhelming surge of relief that formed inside her at seeing me.

“Oh, did you come to join, Diesel?” Roger asked as he followed Maggie’s line of sight. “I think there is room for two. I’ll take the pussy, you take the ass… After all, I know how much you love it in the ass. So you should have no problem taking hers.” He smirked, and I could no longer stop myself from reaching out and landing a blow against his cheek. He released Maggie to catch himself on one of the tables. How had the teachers allowed this to happen? They knew what they had done to Maggie. Roger and his little gang. I had told them. I had witnessed it. I had taken the pain for her on countless occasions. Yet somehow, someway, they had let this asshole get her all alone.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I questioned as my fist landed against his face. Not giving him a chance to answer me, I hit him again as he tried to regain his balance. I didn’t need him to answer me. I didn’t want to know who he thought he was. He was dirt beneath my feet to me—and to Maggie.

He fell to the floor, tripping over his own feet. I could hear Maggie’s muffled cries as she jumped off the table, tugging on her dress…

Maggie.

Maggie. I took a deep breath, my eyes popping open.

“Maggie,” I said the name aloud just to make sure I had heard it correctly.

“I’m right here.” Her voice was a faint whisper. My mind surged back to the present, but one word lingered there right in the void between the current and the past.

Maggie.

Was this Maggie the same Maggie from my past? And if so, why hadn’t the name triggered something inside of me by now? Better yet, what was it Maggie knew that she wasn’t telling me? If she were here, then she was pretending not to know me… and for some reason, it bothered me because if she were here on different terms, then that would put a target on her back.

A target I would be forced to take out.