Lights Out: Chapter 14

Something was wrong with Aly. Something was really wrong with her.

I paced in front of my computer desk, unable to sit still any longer. She was grabbing her things out of her locker, and to anyone who didn’t know her well, she probably seemed fine. But I knew her. At least I knew her expressions, and right now, her face was wooden. It was like someone had sucked all the life out of her, leaving her shell behind to go through the motions.

Was it something that rapist said to her? The stupid cameras in the ER didn’t have microphones, and I couldn’t hear the conversation, but I knew from Aly’s face that it must have been ugly, especially at the end when he’d almost grabbed her.

I didn’t know what I would have done if he’d succeeded in touching her. It was bad enough knowing Aly was in the presence of such a bastard. I’d pulled up his file as she headed his way, and what I’d seen had sent me scrambling for the phone. She’d asked for space, but surely that didn’t extend to warning her of impending danger?

My jaw still hurt from how hard I’d ground my teeth together after she told the nurse on the line to tell me she was fine.

I could tell the second she caught sight of the rapist that Aly wasn’t “fine.” She’d been scared. And not the kind of scared I liked – the brief kind that was quickly replaced by lust – but a bone-deep fear that drained the color from her face. I understood why when I zoomed in on Bradley Bluhm. He had the same eyes as my father, and Aly, used to working in such a dangerous environment, was probably better than most at recognizing monsters and realized she was in the presence of one.

For a moment, it made me feel marginally better that she’d never looked at me that way, but then the gut-punch realization hit that she was within touching distance of someone like that, and I’d been on my feet with my keys in my hand before I could think better of it. I was halfway to my car when I got ahold of myself. Driving down there and barging into an ER wearing a horror movie-inspired mask wasn’t the move. I’d get arrested or probably shot. And as much as I wanted to go to her, going as myself pulled me up short. I wasn’t ready for our game to end yet.

Fuck. That wasn’t entirely true. No, what stopped me was the potential fallout when I told Aly everything about myself. There was a real chance she’d bail, and I’d just gotten my hands on her. I wasn’t ready to give her up so soon.

I returned to my room and planted my butt in front of my computer, reminding myself that Aly was a badass. I’d watched her kick the shit out of a dude almost twice her size yesterday. She was a good fighter: fast, bold, borderline reckless. And from the smile on her face, she liked fighting. I was certain she could defend herself against someone like Brad, especially because men like him were fucking cowards. At their cores, they feared women as much as they hated them. There were countless stories about people like Bundy and the Night Stalker and even my dad running away when their intended victims fought back and started to get the upper hand.

Aly had various objects around her that could double as weapons and plenty of people who could rush in to help. She would be okay.

I thought that right until Brad opened his mouth, and Aly’s jaw jumped like she’d bitten back a retort. What had he said? I leaned forward, lasered in on Brad’s face, trying to read his lips, wanting to knock the smarmy grin off his mouth. His gaze was as glued to Aly as mine was to him, trailing over her from head to toe in a covetous way that brought out my inner caveman.

“Punch him in the face,” I told an unhearing Aly.

“Bash his head against that glass panel.”

“Oh, no, you’re right. It’d be much better to strangle him with the cord of that machine you’re reaching for.”

Unfortunately, she did none of those things. And she didn’t look directly at Brad either, not after that first glimpse. He must have truly unnerved her.

She crossed the foot of his bed, and I got a good view of her face. Nope. She wasn’t unnerved; she was fucking livid. What was that piece of shit saying to her?

“Look out!” I yelled as he reached for her. If that motherfucker hurt her, it would be one of the last things he ever did.

She easily dodged him, but instead of stepping away, she got close, wearing an expression I’d never seen before. It was almost serene, but her eyes burned like she was trying to set Brad on fire with her gaze. She looked slightly deranged, so of course, my dick chose that moment to enter the conversation. I didn’t even try to stop my body’s reaction to Scary Aly because, goddamn, watching her go full bad bitch on Brad was fucking hot. If she actually hit him, I might come.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get a chance. Proving my point about cowards, Brad screwed up his face and started screaming, probably for help, the manipulative little shit.

I opened a new window in my browser and started pulling up everything I could find on the guy, and now, five hours later, I’d come to a conclusion: Bradley Bluhm needed to die. The sooner, the better.

I’d figure out the logistics of that when I had more free time. Right now, Aly needed me.

Despite what went down between her and Brad, I didn’t think he was the one to put her in her current mood. She’d been pissed, but from what I’d seen, recovered pretty well. Even the dressing down she got in that HR woman’s office hadn’t looked too bad.

I’d turned away when they started laughing and got lost in my research. Had something else happened to Aly while I’d been distracted? I’d checked in on her here and there throughout the rest of her shift, and she’d seemed okay, if a little muted. Was her shutting down now a delayed response to the ugly interaction with Brad, or was my gut right, and I’d missed something?

Not knowing was driving me bugfuck.

I scooped my phone from the desk and texted Aly, unable to help myself. Please don’t drive home like this. I know you said you needed space, but let me come and get you. Or at least take an Uber.

On-screen, she checked her phone, staring at it woodenly. I didn’t like this.

I’m taking an Uber, she wrote back, with none of her usual vitriol about me watching her. Maybe she’d finally accepted my continuous oversight, but I didn’t think that would keep her from ribbing me under normal circumstances.

One of her co-workers, a trim black woman I’d seen Aly chat with so often that they must have been good friends, put an arm around Aly’s shoulders and spoke to her. I wished I could hear what she said. Her expression was full of understanding and empathy. Had Aly lost a patient while I’d been learning about Brad’s past crimes? I knew that hit her especially hard.

Their conversation was brief, ending in a long hug. Aly turned from her coworker afterward and headed toward the door. I used the cameras to follow her the whole way out of the hospital, and by the time her Uber started to pull away from a side door, I’d made up my mind. I was done with space. I’d given Aly the days she asked for, stopping myself every time I picked up the phone to text her.

I’d hoped our reunion would be sexual in nature, but she clearly shouldn’t be alone right now, and despite the fact that I was still hard, sex was the last thing on my mind. She needed comfort, companionship. Someone to listen to her or hold her while she cried.

I left my mask behind in favor of a balaclava. I had a feeling it would be a long morning, and I didn’t want to be stuck inside a plastic shell the entire time.

Tyler would be up soon, so I texted him about needing to get out of the apartment, grabbed my keys and backpack, and headed out.

For the first time since I’d started watching her, Aly left the hospital when she was supposed to, so the sun wasn’t up yet, and I had the roads almost entirely to myself. Even so, she lived closer to the hospital than I did to her, and her front door camera showed her beating me there by several minutes.

I parked around the corner, out of sight, and doubled back on foot. It was freezing. The news had warned that we were in for a polar vortex, but this was the first one of the year, and I’d forgotten just how cold it could get. My breath hung in the air around me, and although I didn’t need it yet, I pulled on my balaclava to keep the frost from my skin. Fuck this weather.

I didn’t bother turning Aly’s cameras off since my face was covered, and I didn’t bother knocking either, using the key I’d made to let myself in the front door. Fred came running right up to me, his tail held high and mouth wide open as he sang me the song of his people.

I shrugged out of my jacket and scooped him off the floor before heading into the house. “We need to work on your social skills, buddy. Imagine if Mommy and Daddy acted like you and ran in here screaming every time we got home.”

The sound of my voice brought me up short. My unmodulated voice. Shit. In my haste to leave the apartment, I’d forgotten the modulator was stitched into my mask. What a rookie move. I wasn’t going back to get it – now that I was here, only Aly ordering me to leave would get me out – so I’d have to find some other way to talk to her because I was done with the texting thing, and I was pretty sure she was too.

As I approached Aly’s room, I heard her shower running. I had a few minutes.

“How’s this?” I asked a purring Fred, dropping my voice as low as I comfortably could. “I am Batman.”

Fred half-slitted his eyes and dug his claws into my jacket, kneading it, so I assumed he approved.

I nuzzled him through the face mask and set him back down as I made a beeline toward the kitchen. Some people lost their appetite when upset, so I didn’t want to make Aly another elaborate breakfast only to have it go to waste. I especially didn’t love the idea of frying more bacon. It brought up memories of when Dad got an ingenious idea for how to dispose of his latest victim during a now infamous Fourth of July neighborhood cookout. I’d been vegan since, and even now, almost twenty years later, the smell of sizzling meat still made me want to puke.

What might Aly want instead of food? Wine, or maybe a nice soothing tea? I’d get both ready. That way, she would have her choice.

The shower cut off shortly after the tea finished steeping, and I scooped the mug and wine up and headed toward her bedroom. She was dressed in a thick white bathrobe, combing her hair with her back to me when I walked in.

“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I brought – ARGH!”

She whipped around and threw the brush at my head, and I burned the shit out of my hand with scalding-hot tea as I ducked it.

“Fuck!” Aly and I both yelled before speaking over each other.

“You can’t just sneak up on me like that!”

“I thought you heard me.”

I set the wine and tea on her bureau and turned to go rinse my scalded skin in the kitchen.

Aly was hot on my heels. “What’s up with your voice? What are you, the scary mask version of Batman?”

“Maskman?” I shot back. “I like it.”

“I hope you like the sound of ringing, too, because I’m getting you a collar with a bell on it so you can’t sneak up on me again.”

Despite my pain, I grinned. “Kinky.”

“Goddamn it,” Aly muttered.

I clamped my lips shut to hold in my laughter.

“Here, let me look at it,” she said when we reached the sink.

I turned the faucet on cold and spared a glance at my angry-looking skin before lifting my gaze to watch Aly’s brows pull together as she took my hand in hers. She gave my latest injury a quick, professional once-over, shifted the faucet from cold to lukewarm, and guided my hand beneath the water.

“It’s not too bad,” she said. “And at least it wasn’t the hand I stabbed.”

I wanted to reach out and smooth the line between her brows, but seeing her slightly upset was better than no emotion at all. “Yeah, much better that I lose the use of both of them than just the one.”

She shook her head and muttered something unintelligible that sounded slightly threatening, and I was glad she couldn’t see how wide I was grinning. Women tended not to like it when people found their dark moods cute, and I was betting Aly was no exception. But I couldn’t help it. She was adorable, especially because after watching her with Brad, I knew she was all bark and no bite with me.

“Nice touch with the blue contacts, by the way,” she said, glancing up at me. “But I can see a line of brown around them.”

Damn it. I knew I should have gotten a custom-fitted pair.

Her eyes didn’t stay on me for long, just enough to shoot me a look of reproach for continuing with this duplicity before dropping back down. We fell quiet while she watched the water move over my hand, and I took the time to drink her in. Her wet hair left damp patches on her bathrobe, and her eyes were a little bloodshot like she’d cried in the shower. The skin beneath them was slightly bruised, a telltale sign of exhaustion, and watching the life start to drain from her expression again made me want to scoop her up and never let her go.

“You’re here,” she said, so low I almost missed the words.

I slipped my hand from hers and pulled her into a hug. “You needed me.”

She rose to her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around my neck, and buried her face in my chest, taking such a deep breath that her sides pressed into my biceps. She started to tremble as she exhaled, and I gave into my need to hold her, dropping my hands to her thighs and hefting her up. Her long legs wrapped around my waist, arms tightening on my shoulders as she hid her face in my neck.

“What happened?” I asked. “It couldn’t have just been Brad.”

“It was my mom,” she whispered against my skin.

I frowned. “I thought your mom passed away.”

She stiffened.

Fuck. I probably should have kept that bit of knowledge to myself.

She pulled back enough to meet my eyes, not bothering to hide the tears that slowly leaked from hers. “You’re so nice that sometimes I forget what a creep you are.”

A sarcastic response was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it in check. “What do you mean, something happened with your mom?”

She sighed and started to pull away, but I hung on, unwilling to let her put any space between us. She must not have truly wanted to escape because she gave up when she realized my intent and snuggled back in. “I killed her.”

It was my turn to go stiff as a board. What the hell was she talking about? “I thought she passed in a car accident.”

“She did,” Aly said. “I was driving. She was trying to teach me how to operate a manual transmission, and it was our first time out on a real road. Before that, we’d practiced in empty parking lots, and she thought I was ready for the next step. I almost stalled out at a red light and panicked when the car jerked forward, slamming my foot down, only I missed the brake and hit the gas, and we shot into the intersection.”

Oh, fuck.

“A car clipped the rear end, spinning us around, and a work truck rammed us head-on,” she said. “The truck driver managed to hit his brakes at the last second, but the impact was still hard enough that all our airbags deployed, and both of my ankles were broken when the front end crumpled. I hit my head hard enough that everything went fuzzy for a few minutes, and when it all came back into focus, I was in so much pain that it took me a moment to notice the pipe sticking out of my mom’s chest. It came loose from the truck during impact and impaled her.”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” I said, squeezing Aly tight. The words felt useless. Why wasn’t there a better way to verbalize empathy in moments like this? Some way to say that you were sorry that encompassed how your heart broke for someone and that you’d do anything you could to take their pain away.

Aly’s sides shook as she lost the fight against her tears, her next words coming out between sobs. “I couldn’t save her.”

Everything clicked into place. Aly couldn’t save her mother, so now she spent every waking hour of her life trying to save everyone else, to the detriment of her own mental and physical health. It made me even more protective of her. Someone so unselfish and caring should be safeguarded at all costs, even from themselves, if necessary.

“There was a car accident tonight,” she said. “The woman looked like Mom, and I just…lost it. I couldn’t treat her.”

I strode from the kitchen into the living room and sank onto the couch with Aly still in my arms. “No one could blame you for that.”

She sniffled. “I blame me.”

I brushed her hair over her shoulder and stroked my hand up and down her back. “You shouldn’t. Retraumatizing yourself isn’t the answer.”

“It’s been almost ten years. I shouldn’t still be traumatized.”

I pressed my fabric-covered lips to her temple. “There isn’t a time limit on grief or trauma.”

She pulled back enough to look at me, eyes red, cheeks blotchy, all the more beautiful for trusting me with her vulnerability. “You sound like my therapist.”

My answering laugh was humorless. “Probably because I’ve been in therapy for so long that I know what one would say right now.”

“And what’s that?” she asked, studying my eyes.

“A therapist would tell you that you didn’t kill your mother. What happened was an accident.”

“Fair enough,” Aly said with another sniffle. “But it’s still my fault she’s dead.”

“Counterpoint: it’s that truck driver’s fault for not swerving around you. Or that first driver’s for clipping you. Or even your mom’s for taking you onto the road before you were ready.”

“Hey,” she said, eyes flashing with reproach as she started to slide off my lap.

I tightened my arms around her and tugged her back to my chest. “I’m serious, Aly. Everyone involved is just at complicit as you. It’s not fair to put all the blame on yourself. Would you tell another sixteen-year-old in your shoes that it was their fault their parent died?”

She shuddered. “God. Never.”

“So why are you doing it to yourself?” She had nothing to say to that, so I pushed my advantage. “I didn’t know your mom, but I bet she wouldn’t want you punishing yourself for her death. She’d want you to live your life free from guilt. She’d want you to be healthy and happy, and by neglecting yourself and pulling these non-stop shifts, you’re actively headed in the opposite direction.”

“It’s so hard, though,” she said, digging her fingers into my shirt. “The hospital is so short-staffed.”

I hefted her by the thighs and hauled her closer, wanting to banish what little space remained between us, wishing I could crawl right inside of her and fix the thoughts in her head.

“I know,” I told her. “But you’ll be no help to anyone if you run yourself into the ground. Exhausted people are sloppy people. They make mistakes that get them caught.” Goddamn thoughts of my father slipping into every conversation. “I mean in trouble. You’d never forgive yourself if you treated someone after pushing past your limit and slipped up in a way that made them worse instead of better.”

Her warm breath heated my neck as she blew out a heavy exhale. “You’re right. I know you are, but it’s almost a compulsion at this point.” She sounded better than a moment ago, more like herself, and it made me want to needle her a little.

“Well, we have the next two weeks off to fix that,” I said.

She reared back, and I should have gotten a medal for keeping my gaze on her face instead of dropping it to where her robe had slipped open, revealing a line of olive skin all the way to her navel. Even lower, in my periphery, I realized her robe had parted below the tie as well, and Aly was nude beneath it.

Fuck.

“How did you know my vacation got bumped up?” she asked. “And what do you mean when you say “we” have two weeks off?”

I ignored her first question. She already knew the answer. “I took a vacation, too. I thought we could spend some quality time together as a family. You, me. Our maladjusted son who just scooted his butt across the carpet behind you.”

She spun around, robe gaping even wider. “Fred, ew! Do you have worms again?”

He lifted his head from where he’d been fast asleep in his little felt house by the TV and gave her a look like, “Me? What the fuck did I do?”

She turned back around, features shifting into a long-suffering expression. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Not when it’s so easy to get a rise out of you.”

The hint of a grin tilted up the corners of her mouth, and something unwound inside me to see it. She had every right to be upset, and I was sure this wasn’t the last of our “you push yourself too hard” conversation, but it was still nice to know that I could get her to smile, even at the worst of times. That had to mean something, didn’t it? That this was bigger than a hookup, more than casual dating. This had real long-term potential, and I hadn’t been deluding myself when I formed my plan to make her fall in love with me.

I shifted my legs up, jostling her forward so she fell against me, hiding all that beautiful skin before I gave in to the urge to touch it.

She rested her cheek on my shoulder. “That was you on the ER line earlier, right?”

“It was.”

“What were you going to say?”

“I was going to warn you about Brad. I pulled up his hospital records and had a bad feeling about him.”

“You were right to,” she said.

I stroked a hand down her back. “Oh, you have no idea.”

She tilted her head up enough to meet my eyes. “What do you mean?”

“His family has been covering up for him or paying off his victims since he was a teenager,” I told her.

“So, I was right. He’s a monster.”

It wasn’t a question, but I answered her anyway. “He is.”

Her gaze fell, darkening as she stared at the wall. “I wanted to kill him.”

I went completely still beneath her. “What did he say to you?”

“A bunch of bullshit about how his victim had wanted it and was only lying to get money out of him,” she said. “But it was more than that. Everything about him made my hackles rise. After he tried to grab me, I taunted him, hoping he’d try again or throw a punch so I’d have an excuse to unload on him.” Her voice dropped. “I’m glad he didn’t because I don’t think I would have stopped. I felt out of my mind. I know that doesn’t sound good, but I don’t know how else to describe it. I felt completely unhinged, like I would have done anything in that moment.”

I hugged her close, careful not to squeeze too hard because there was so much adrenaline pumping through my veins that I felt like I was in that ER bay with her, more than ready to go to jail for killing a man.

“I know I sound like a broken record, but I’m sorry,” I said. “And if it makes you feel better, I felt the same way, and I didn’t even hear what that bastard said to you. The look on his face was enough to push me to the brink. It took all my willpower to keep from barging in there. If I’d known he was taunting you –” I turned my head away so she wouldn’t see the battle playing out in my mind.

No, I didn’t want to be like my father, and no, I didn’t think I was in danger of turning out like him anymore, but sometimes, I still worried there was a risk of being overtaken by urges that led to me falling down a dark rabbit hole and becoming a monster-adjacent person. Like Dexter or Joe. Someone who did terrible things but found a way to justify them to themselves.

Aly lifted off my chest enough to frame my chin with her hand and turn me back toward her. “I wish you’d barged in.” Her eyes roamed over me, taking in my black fitted tee and the way my dick strained against my jeans, even as we discussed violence. I was worried she’d be repulsed by my arousal, but instead, her lips curled in a wicked grin. “Watching you beat the shit out of him would have been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“There’s still time to make that happen,” I told her, only half joking.

She sat up in my lap, and I nearly groaned at the way her robe gaped open. As I watched, she reached down and tugged the end of the fuzzy sash barely holding the garment on. She glanced down and kept pulling, torturously slow, biting her lower lip in a way that had my dick straining against my fly.

“Aly,” I said, a hint of warning in my tone. This wasn’t what I came here for. She’d had a terrible night. We should discuss it more and dig deeper into her compulsion to put everyone else above herself.

Her eyes rose to mine, and without breaking my gaze, she tugged the sash free, letting the robe fall open. My mouth watered at the sight of her perfectly rounded tits, the globes just big enough to fill my palms, her nipples a dusky pink several shades darker than her skin, already peaked with desire. She lifted my hands and placed them on her breasts, and it was only with monumental effort that I stopped myself from rolling my thumbs over her nipples.

“We should talk more about what happened tonight,” I said.

She blew out a breath. “I don’t want to talk anymore. I’ve been thinking about it for hours, and I just want to turn my brain off for a while.” She leaned forward, rubbing her tits into my hands. “I want to be bad,” she said. “I want you to make me forget about Brad and all the awful shit I’ve seen. I want you to use my body like your plaything.”

Unable to hold out any longer, I dragged my thumbs across her nipples.

She shivered and ground her hips down, rolling her bare sex over me. “I want to be dark.”

I jerked my eyes up from her tits and found her watching me with an intensity that had my balls tightening. “How dark?”

“Darker than the other night. I know you held yourself back.” She reached a hand between us and palmed my dick through my pants. “Don’t.”

I groaned. “Aly, fuck. Do you know what you’re asking for?”

Christ, did I even know? I’d come here wanting to comfort her, but she’d just set that plan on fire with her declaration. There was so much terrible shit in my head that I couldn’t figure out where the line should be, how far I should drag her into the darkness with me.

“I know I want you,” she said. “And I know I trust you enough to put myself at your mercy.”

I panted as she squeezed me through my jeans, remembering how good her mouth felt wrapped around my cock, the way her tits bounced as I fucked into them. So far, most of what happened between us had been about me and my desires. Here she was, brave enough to trust me with her pleasure, brave enough to tell me what she wanted. The least I could do was deliver.

Calm descended like a second skin. Gone was my desire to tease her. Gone was the man she thought was cute and funny and safe, who hid from the world for fear of recognition. What was left behind was the part of me that stripped off clothes and covered himself in blood so I could horrify and titillate millions of strangers on the internet. This side was all ego. I wanted Aly on her knees for me, humbled and worshipping. I wanted to watch her crawl to me, naked, before kissing my boots and licking the flat of my knife.

She dragged in a breath as the change came over me, watching my eyes as the humanity bled from them and my need for her took hold. Her pupils widened with a mixture of anticipation, lust, and a small hint of fear. Good. She should be afraid. I felt like destroying something.

I wrapped my hands around her thighs and stood. “No safe words.”

She clung to me, sounding breathless when she responded. “No safe words.”

I strode into her room and threw her on the bed. She let out a strangled yelp of surprise as she bounced across the mattress. I left her to grab my bag and ensure Fred was still minding his business in his felt house and hadn’t snuck into her room while we’d been distracted. What I was about to do to his mother, no child should see.

I yanked the knife out as I strode back into the room, throwing my bag to the side and pulling the blade free as I kicked the door shut. We were dropped almost entirely into darkness, but Aly must have sensed the danger in the room with her because she scrambled away as I stalked toward her, fear edging out lust.

I raised the blade high.

She threw herself to the far side of the bed. “What are you –”

I stabbed the knife down.

Straight into the corner of her mattress.

She clapped her hands over her mouth to muffle her horrified scream.

I crooked a finger at her, beckoning her forward.

“Come here, Aly,” I said, wrapping my other hand around the knife handle so there would be no mistaking my intent. “I want to watch you ride it.”