“But your wounds…”
“I’ll live.” He rinsed his wounds, then heated a
knife on the stove and used it to cauterize
them.
I watched, horrified. This was Jake. No one else
I knew was so ruthless, to others and to
himself.
“What are you staring at? Scared now?” He
shooed me away. “Close the curtains, and don’t
turn on the lights.”
“Okay,” I said, obeying without question. I’d
seen how vicious his enemies could be.
Half an hour later, he emerged, shirtless, his
wounds gruesome.
“Got any clothes?”
“How about my dad’s?” I grabbed some clothes
<
from my dad’s room.
“I don’t wear other people’s clothes.”
He was a germaphobe. He wouldn’t wear
anyone else’s clothes. He said anyone around
him could die at any moment by his hand, and
he considered it bad luck.
“Then… my clothes won’t fit you.”
“Can’t I just… stay like this?”
“Sure.” I’d always done what he said.
“On second thought, you’ll be scared. Get me
one of your loose pajamas.”
“Huh?”
Five minutes later, he was standing in my
kitchen, sharpening a knife, wearing my
strawberry–print pajamas. He looked like he
<
>
“Disappointed I’m not dead?” he asked,
glancing at me.
I remained silent.
“I spoiled you too much. Never thought I’d fall victim to your little act.” He chuckled, self-
deprecatingly.
“I’m sorry. I’ll do anything. Just please, don’t
hurt my parents.” I hugged him, pleading.
I was terrified. If he killed me in Myanmar, at
least my parents wouldn’t be involved. But now,
he was here, a dangerous presence, and I was
filled with regret.
“Anything?” He grinned, tilting my chin up.
“Come back to Myanmar with me. Would you
do that?”
I froze. Return to that nightmare? Back to a life
<
VI
1000,
being recoiled at the thought.
But I nodded. “Yes.”
“Let’s go now, okay?” I pleaded.
IVIY
“Go where?” He looked down at me.
“Myanmar.” I’d go with him, the sooner the
better. That way he wouldn’t have time to hurt
my parents.
He looked at me and laughed, stroking my hair.
“You know, whenever you try to appease me like this, I almost believe you mean it.”
“Logically, I know better. But my heart… it
wants to believe you, to believe your words are
true.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, stunned.
“Don’t apologize. Say it again. I like hearing it.”
<
He turned back to sharpening his knife.
Later that night, I led him to my bedroom. He
didn’t refuse. He wouldn’t. He craved intimacy
but was always detached, never investing
himself in any one woman. And aside from this,
I didn’t know any other way to please him.
In the darkness…
“Does it hurt?” I asked, watching him wince as
he held me.
“Try getting stabbed a few times and see how
you feel.” He was in too much pain to even
speak properly.
“What should we do? I don’t have any
painkillers.” I started to get up to look for some.
He pulled me back down. “Just hold me.”
He buried his face in my neck, looking
vulnerable, like a lost puppy. But I knew he was
a wolf.
“Does this feel better?” I kissed his lips gently.
He froze, then smiled. “Much better.”
I showered him with kisses, trying to ease his
pain. I’d never been this forward before. He
watched me, seemingly pleased. But then he
pushed me away.
“Stop,” he said.
“Why? Did I do something wrong?” I looked at
him, confused. He usually liked this.
“You’re not trying to ease my pain. You’re
trying to make it worse.” He growled in my ear. “Don’t tempt me.”
“Oh.” I obeyed.
“Unset?” He ninched my cheek
“No.”
“Then why are you so far away?” He pulled me
closer.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
He looked at me, sighed, and pulled me into his
arms. “When haven’t I given you what you
want?”
He cursed softly, then pulled me into the abyss.
I couldn’t refuse. He hated being refused. I was
like a fish in his hands, struggling briefly before
giving up, going limp.
He went to the bathroom, then came back and
held me, his long fingers tracing my face, his
lips brushing against mine.
“Nice, right? Your soap.”
I blushed. hiding my face under the covers.
<
He held me, and eventually, he fell asleep.
19
The next morning, Jake had a fever. His wounds
were infected. I took care of him, cooling him down, making him porridge, tending to his every
need.
His face was pale. He grabbed my hand. “Are
you only being nice to me because you’re
scared?”
“Of course not.”
“Then… is it because you like me?” he asked, a
weak smile playing on his lips.
“Yes,” I wiped his face and the sweat from his
body. “Don’t talk. Just rest.”
“Talk more. Even if it’s a lie, I like hearing it.”
He was clingy when he was sick, like a child.
<
You’d never guess this seemingly harmless man
had so much blood on his hands.
“Okay. I’ll stay with you.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I started reading
to him from one of my old classics. He closed
his eyes, and I thought he’d fallen asleep. But
the moment I stopped reading, he opened them,
urging me to continue.
“Is this what it feels like to have someone read
to you?” he asked, smiling.
“Didn’t your mom read to you when you were little?” I immediately regretted my words.
“No.” His smile vanished.
I stroked his hair, his face, then kissed him
softly. “I’ll read to you from now on, okay?”
He turned away sharply. In the mirror, I saw his
12:33
<
profile. His eyes were red. I’ll never forget that
moment.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked nervously.
“No. Just… don’t look at me like that. I’m afraid I’ll regret things.” He turned his back to me,
refusing to speak.
I stayed with him for three days and nights. His
fever finally broke, and he started eating again.
I watched as he started pacing around my
apartment, making calls, sighing. I didn’t know
what to do. Should I help him? He’d been so
weak, I could have easily let him die. I didn’t
understand my own hesitation. Maybe it was
the vulnerability he’d shown, a side of him I’d
never seen before. I’d missed my chance. Or
maybe I knew, even weakened, he could still
crush me like an ant.
I heard the key turning in the lock.
<
“Emily, are you home?”
My dad.
My heart leaped into my throat. I didn’t want
him to come in. I was afraid of what Jake might
- do.
But it was too late. Jake heard him and came
out of the bedroom.
“Aren’t you going to open the door?” he asked,
looking at the door.
I knew I couldn’t avoid this. I opened the door.
My dad looked at me, asking why I hadn’t
answered his calls or gone to class. Before I
could answer, he saw Jake standing in the
doorway of my bedroom, freshly showered,
wearing only a towel.
