Kill The Innocent

Chapter Seven: Declan

We delight in the beauty of a butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it was gone through to acheive that beauty

Maya Angelou

***

I was embarrassed. I'd never needed to do this before and I was trying to avoid the topic of my arm because I didn't want her to see my inexperience. I'd never needed to know how to heal my own wounds because I always paid someone to do it for me. She intimidated me, and I pretended, but it backfired.

My plan was to fix it tomorrow. I have a small infirmary here with a private doctor. I was going to slip out of bed before Valerie woke and have Cohen fix it. However, she outsmarted me. Yet again.

Valerie Arrow is a lot smarter than I originally anticipated. She's been trained well. Which is normally something that I would admire in her trainer but I don't because I know what her main motivation for doing well was.

Fear.

Nolan scared her in order to get her to do what he wanted her to do. And can't fucking stand that she had to live through that. Childhood shapes adulthood. And he crushed hers.

I have a hatred for Nolan that I've never had for any other human being. And that says a lot considering I'm one of the most hatred-filled beings to exist in this century. The urge I have to slaughter that man in the slowest, most excruciating fucking way is itching at me and I'm doing everything in my power to ignore it. I think about it all the time. Fantasize about it, even. Everything I would do to that man, given the chance. The knife I'd use, the way I'd use it. It's all I can think about. That's one of the reasons I chose a place across the country to hide Valerie in.

I have over 20 safe houses in New York. All equipped with weaponry, food, water, and every other survival supply in the books. But I chose my place in Seattle so I would be able to better control my urge to slice Nolan Arrow's throat.

No matter how badly I'd love to watch him die, I can't. Nolan is dangerous. And If I harm him, Valerie will be harmed. I don't think she fully understands what her name, Arrow, means. And if she does, she's pretending she doesn't. If an Arrow gets hurt, all hell breaks loose. I've made that mistake once and I refuse to make it again.

"Sit here," She says, touching the spot in front of her. She's seated on the edge of the bathtub.

I do as she tells me and take a seat. She holds her hand out for me to give her my arm, I hesitate but eventually do. My face feels hot. I don't like the idea of her knowing my lack of knowledge which is common in our line of work.

Behind her, she has a pair of medical scissors, a needle and thread, hydrogen peroxide, and some paper towels. I watch as she reaches for the scissors. "This is gonna be the worst part, if you get through this, the rest will be a piece of cake, I promise." She smiles at me. "You need to relax though. It will hurt more if you're tense like you are right now."

She's so perfect. She's exactly how I've always imagined her. I try to relax but this newfound knowledge of the pain I'm about to feel is making it hard.

She stokes the unharmed skin on my arm in a way that fills my stomach with butterflies. "Just breathe, Dec, it's gonna be okay."

I bite back a smile. Dec. She is the first person to ever call me that. And I want her to be the last.

Once I'm relaxed enough to her liking, she starts cutting the thread across my skin, I watch her skilled hands work and try not to notice the slight sting every time the thread moves. I keep my arm as relaxed as possible but it tenses with every sting.