Read Online Dancer by Emma Clark - Free Book Online Page B

Yes you do! You think your dick is a free pass to trash women." 
    His chilly gaze fixed to me. His mouth tensed.
    "Admit it, you fucking piece of shit!"
    "Okay, yes my dick gives me a free pass to trash women. Satisfied?"
    "Exactly. Therefore I should take away the one thing causing you to act this way."
    Chase's nervous laughter filled the room. "What the hell does that mean?"
    "Figure it out."
    "Sam, what are you going to do?"
    To answer him, I pulled a seven-inch carving knife from the folds of my skirt and held it to his crotch. I grabbed his thigh to hold it steady, lightly ran the blade across the bulge of his veiled cock.
    His most prized possession.
    "Please don't fucking do this. I'll do anything you want, just leave my dick alone."
    I raised the knife so it poised precariously in the air. The blade vibrated with the shaking of my arm.
    "Can you bring Allison back? She's going to die," I said.
    "I'm sorry. Honest to god, I never meant for Sherrie to hurt her."
    I edged the weapon closer, closer.
    "Please, Samantha." Sweat shimmered on his forehead. Iridescent green eyes darted to and fro.
    Oh. So now it's 'Samantha', huh? I saw my reflection in the gleaming blade.
    Fine, I won't cut it off.
    But this shit ain't over. 
    I drove the blade in his thigh and sliced it open, carved imperfections in the smooth flesh. That's what he needed, imperfections to cure his arrogance, steal his confidence and conceit.
    I'd force his return to earth where he belonged—with every other average mortal. Including myself.
    Over and over I cut. Imperfected. Carved. Taught him harsh lessons as my madness surged, blinded me, deafened me to his pleas.
    Oblivious, I visualized Allison's smiling face instead of the crimson slashes zig-zagging Chase's thigh.
    Allison. Allison.
    Coming to my senses, I stopped. Gashes marked his right thigh. Blood completely submerged his shredded skin.
    Sickening realization hit me. Horrified at my own actions, I stared as  blood streaked his leg and dripped to the sheet.
    I'd been hypnotized. Demon-possessed. I didn't recall doing this unspeakable horror.
    His blank stare met mine. No reaction.
    I dropped the knife, whirled and ran out of there.
    God, what did I do?

11
    M om and Dad would be back in less than ten days.
    What the fuck was I gonna do with Chase? I definitely had to do something for his nasty cuts.
    Spurred by guilt, I tended to Chase's wounds during the next twenty-four hours. I smeared anti-bacterial cream over the tender, red-striped flesh and layered thick gauze on his thigh, securing it with surgical tape I'd found in a first-aid kit.
    Though mostly superficial cuts, it didn't mean jack-shit to my guilty conscience.
    He refused to speak. Whenever he turned his attention to me, he seemed to gaze through me.
    I didn't expect any different.
    What's happening to me? Where's my sense of reason? How will this shit end?
    I hated to think. Truly I did.
    And sometimes when he thought I didn't notice, Chase shot me a look as if he'd only been pretending not to see me.
    A look of warning. Danger.
    At nighttime I remembered those looks while trying to sleep. It made me cringe in renewed fear.
    Made me believe a figurative time bomb had been activated directly across the hall.
    * * * *
    S louched on the sofa and immersed in a fantasy novel, I didn't hear the phone.
    Maybe I didn't want to hear it. Maybe it was bad news.
    Buzz. Buzz. Buzz .
    No longer able to ignore it, I closed the book and leaned to fetch the mobile from the coffee table.
    An unfamiliar, faraway-sounding voice declared Allison's death. She'd passed two hours ago.
    Heartbeat hastened, a loud beat echoing in my ears. I wish it'd stop. Why wouldn't it stop?
    My vision blurred as I swallowed and choked on tearful sobs.
    Allison. Best Friend Forever.
    Inside me, a little boy fluttered for the first time. Quickening. It didn't mean shit to me.
    Allison was dead. DEAD.
    This impossible declaration ricocheted in rhythm with my pulse.