Midnight Noire by Devlin Price - HTML preview

CHAPTER 35

Everything shattered inside of me. How could I be so stupid? To really believe he wouldn't betray me, when I was the one to betray everyone. I didn't deserve better, I deserved every little bit I received. The feeling when someone you care for the most is the one to kill you both mentally and physically, is the best punishment for people like me. It was a shame I received only a part of it. I died mentally. After all, who thought Elle Morrison could trust anyone?

The gun didn't fire. He furrowed his eyebrows and hectically pulled it again. My smile grew bigger despite the tears in my eyes. The moment of truth. I wasn't as stupid as everyone thought and it seemed he came to the very same conclusion. I had played the player.

"You know... I really did love you." I extended my arm and nine bullets poured over the dark soil. I blinked a couple of times to make the tears go away. He wasn't worth it. When the blur finally left my sight, I saw how dumbfounded he looked, but for my surprise soon after he started clapping his hands.

"And I really did underestimate you," He smiled a crooked smile. Such a beautiful predator.

"It's not very polite to leave your own party," I wiped my cheeks off of the tears.

"I think they can handle it without me," Suddenly the gun flew over to bushes and his hands travelled to his pockets. He twitched his shoulders, "No hard feelings Elle, you were just a job I had to do."

To be completely honest, I had figured that much, mate, if otherwise, I would've been laying on the ground completely lifeless. There were two options, either kill or be killed. I chose to kill, it was the only thing I was capable of. No, no... I learned I was capable of something else recently, I was capable of love. And what did I love? Money, blood? No, I fell for my killer, who happened to be my guardian. Or was he? I wasn't one hundred percent sure about that, but then again, I wasn't sure about anything when even Duke Jones, rock -musician, took the gun and fired. Or at least tried. I imagined musicians to be slightly different, I imagined them to be sex addicts, alcoholics and sort of the 'go-with-the-flow' types, not this.

"How much time do I have?" I made a few steps towards him.

"A couple of minutes," He smiled. This time his smile was sincere. I still couldn't believe it.

He, Duke Jones, happened to be the one and only criminal mastermind of Nevada. Some would ask- but what about Catherine and Dante? Those were just some minor characters in this story, the most unique character after all was Duke. Even my schizophrenia in reverse couldn't outdo his role. He even put his egoistical nature aside and risked with everything by going to Cali.

"The rock musician career... I must say it's a great cover... of a cover."

"Thank you, I tried."

When did I get it? When did I take the bullets out of that gun? The very same moment after I shot the escalade. And yet again I admire his patience to throw everything away and live in a shitty two bedroom apartment. I wonder why was he the one to try and take me out. Was it because I went on a killing spree near Nevada in my days and Duke felt his manhood was endangered or was it because the western states were not too keen on my mental instability? Somewhere I really did go wrong and I realize I had to quit this lifestyle a long time ago, but how can you quit something that is the main reason of your existence? Rewinding the tape back, in this state that I am now, I understand how close I was to the truth and how carefully he had to cover his mistakes with a brand new story. Every single time. If he wasn't about to kill us, Morrison, I'd make you marry the guy.

At the beginning he was a roommate, later a guardian, then Trent's slave, and in the end he turned out to be just a mere keeper. A state keeper, his duty was to wipe every possibility of crime out of the state he was handling. The most comical thing about it was that I've never been to Nevada before he and Maddox brought me here completely beaten up.

"You could've done it a lot easier." I kept on walking, the wind was playing with my evening dress.

"I doubt you would've let me."

"You could've poison me," Only a couple of steps were holding us separately.

"You don't deserve that kind of a death," He stepped forward and reached out to gently touch my cheek. His hand was so warm and soothing. I didn't want to respond to his touch, but my body was in different thoughts.

"Why aren't we fighting anymore?" I laid my hand upon his.

"Because nobody's pretending. Everything in this moment is sincere." His chocolate browns looked over my moist cheeks. I bet I looked like some sort of damsel in distress, a fully different role to play from the ordinary. Suddenly he did something I was not waiting for him to do. He pulled me into his clasps. "You don't have much time, Elle..."

"Why didn't you kill me in the beginning?" I inhaled his smell. I needed to get my dose of Brian, even if this was the only way to do it.

"The time when you were sleeping with a gun under your pillow?" His fingers ran down my neck, soothingly caressing my freezing skin. "I had a greater chance of getting Short-shit to admit he's gay."

"But you could've killed me," I looked up, "right before you brought me here. I was weak, Duke,"

"You're wrong" He gave into a big smile, "you have never been weak. You were tired."

He was right, I was tired, tired of all the running and hiding. I wanted to be free, just for a second. At that very moment I understood what Anastasia was talking about shortly before her death. I was getting too old for this and my inner voice could only agree. It was hard living in a constant fear of getting a bullet between your eyes or even worse- of getting caught. I could only imagine what my punishment would consist of and even though my imagination was not as vivid as the creators’ of this story, I was able of coming up with some pretty gore scenes. If I lost my insanity just for a second and added two and two together, I realized I was a pretty sick and sadistic person. Murdering with no regrets and looking for a reason for a certain homicide when I, particularly was in no state to be playing the role of god. Maybe I went nuts after my first kill? Who knows? My sanity switch was flipping on and off at the moment and I couldn't even tell if it was on or off.

"The odds have never been in my favor," His lips whispered just an inch from my ear.

"If only you weren't married..."

"It doesn't change anything," Before I could only mention how Michelle was going to rip my insides out when she finds out I'm still alive and breathing, his lips crashed against mine in a very gentle manner. Aww... Shut up, this is the worst goodbye ever, now I'll be heartbroken for the rest of my life. You have a heart? Well imagine my surprise, when I came to that conclusion. Why do you have to overthink everything, Morrison? Why can't you just enjoy the experience? Because you're 'aww-ing' in my head, idiot.

I seemed to believe in a happy ending and so did the writer, I suppose. The only problem was- neither of us knew what happiness really was. He/she made Duke a married man and me a schizophrenic murderer, as interesting it may sound, in the end, nobody wanted a life like this.

"You have to go..." Our lips grew apart. Duke pressed his forehead against mine and exhaled deeply.

"You know this is the last time I see you and there's something I have to do," He smiled his widest smile, "No Duke, we don't have time for sex."

"I knew you're going to say that," He took a step back.

"Where do you want it?" I took of my black shoe off while he patted his left cheek.

"With a shoe?" His beautiful browns grew wide. Please don't say me nobody has whacked him with a pump-heel...

"I'm a lady, Jones... It's all about pretty shoes."

"You have to let that shit go, Morrison..." He tried to make his most terrified face, but in the end he was just smiling like a weirdo.

"I already am..." Not even a second passed when he already was on the ground. It was now or never. I bet on this bloody shoe, Catherine, Dante and Michelle were already on their way here. For Christ sake it meant I had to take the longest way, I had to go through the forest. I put the shoe back on and looked on the sleeping beauty for the last time and smiled.

He never could handle my punches.