“I wouldn’t have run,” my voice is low and steady as she moves her arm slowly. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you.”
Chapter Twelve
Ruby
I can’t look away from him, I can’t bear to as I raise my arm slowly, trying not to draw Emma’s attention. She’s a fool for standing with her back to me. Was she that sure of herself? How could she think that I would want to be with her if she killed Carter? I never imagined that my creepy, possessive stalker was the roommate who babied me. Even in my wildest dreams, I never would have thought she could drug me, drag me to my classroom and slice into me like I was nothing more than a fancy cheese, while still expecting me to return her affection, but I wasn’t about to underestimate her again.
Moving quicker than I ever have in my life, I use the rope that’s still tied to my wrist and pull it around her neck, choking her from behind. She reaches up, and I wrestle the knife from her with my other hand, but not before she manages to cut my shoulder and slice my arm.
“Rebecca!” she chokes out, struggling against me. “Don’t do this…”
Her fingers dig into my skin, as she tries to regain control, tearing and scratching at anything she can grasp. Her voice is croaky as broken words fall and escape her, the only one I understand clearly is, “Mine…”
I wasn’t hers.
I never was.
With all the strength I have, I plunge the blade into her chest, still holding her back with the rope in my left hand. She gasps and flails for a few minutes, blood oozing out of her, creating a dark puddle on the floor, spattering across the other workbenches. After a few moments, her body becomes heavy and her breathing is shallow, slowing before it finally stops completely.
Dropping the knife with a clang and Emma with a thud, I lean back, trying to catch my breath. What the fuck have I done? She hurt me, carved into my skin with a knife while telling me she loved me, but it wasn’t like when Carter hurt me. There was no trust, no pleasure, just pain. And that made me so angry. I liked to be watched, but that didn’t mean I was a free-for-all. I didn’t belong to her. I didn’t belong to anyone.
My panic dissipates into disbelief as I look back up and see Carter crouched before us, with his camera out. “What the hell! Don’t just stand there taking pictures.”
I should have known this whole thing would interest him. He was like a vampire, unable to resist the allure of the blood splashed around the room.
His voice cracks as the shutter clicks. “I can’t help it, you look incredible. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes look hungry. It’s raw. And fucking real. Fuck, the crimson on your skin.”
I snort. “Don’t tell me this is turning you on.”
He crouches down to get a better angle as I free my legs from the bindings, skin raw from chafing. “I’m a sadist, what can I say?”
He takes a few more shots before stepping towards me, fingers outstretched, hovering over the words engraved into my body. “This is a feast for the eyes.”
She hadn’t cut deep, but they would leave marks, maybe they’d fade one day, maybe not. I didn't really care at this point, because the way Carter’s tongue flicked out over his bottom lip as he lifted his camera to capture them made my heart race. I was sick. But he was sicker, and in this moment, I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself around him and burrow under his skin.
“What will you do with these images?” I ask as I dip my finger into the sticky lake on the floor, smearing up my legs before tracing around the angry words, perfectly aware of how Carter’s breath quickens.
“Use them in my next exhibition...with your permission.”
“You can call them ‘An Ode to Rebecca,’” I reply softly. I didn’t want to be Rebecca anymore, she was a liar with too many secrets, too many faces and ashamed to admit that she loved to be watched. To be wanted. Rebecca was weak.
Carter lowers the camera to smirk at me. “Does that mean no more lies?”
“It means you’re going to need some more material for your show.” I wink suggestively, before getting down onto my knees in the blood and cupping my breasts. It doesn’t take Carter long to shift back into bossy photographer mode as he directs me, telling me where to place my limbs to get the best shots as we both ignore the dead body beside us. Any sympathy or friendship I felt for Emma vanished when she’d laid her hands on me.
“Come on, we’ll finish this back at the studio.” Carter’s eyes are dark, and I know he wants to touch me. To own me. “Grab the white spirit.”
“What’re you planning?” I ask as I hand him a bottle from the cupboard, usually we use it to clean the brushes and tools.
He places the camera on the workbench, taking the white spirit in one hand and grabbing my chin in the other. His lips crash into mine, desperation in every touch as his mouth claims mine with the same fire in which he fucked me only days before. I resist the urge to whine when he pulls away, because I want more. I always want more when it comes to Carter.
He begins to pour the strong-smelling liquid over Emma. “We’re going to burn the body and leave, like we were never here.”
Biting down on my lip, I look around the room. There are final projects in here, pieces that students have worked on for months, and for the first time, I feel guilt. “The whole room will
