How to Love a Psychopath

Chapter Four

His hand was gripping hers, tighter and harsher than he'd ever touched her before, and that is saying a lot.

The air was crisp and dew was covering the leaves of the trees. Sadie had always loved the early morning. But she had no time to admire it as Xander pulled her through the forest. She tripped over roots and fallen branches and it was a miracle they didn't fall.

He stopped suddenly and she collided with his back. His familiar cologne wrapped around her and she groaned.

"Xander what the fuck are we doing?" He muttered something incomprehensible to himself and then turned around. It was not unusual for one of the two to pull the other out of bed at strange and illogical hours and take their groggy partner to wherever the impulse may be. Sadie had once decided that she wanted to go sledding at three in the morning. It had not even snowed in their area but three states up was a different story and Sadie made Xander drive them all the way there. Sometimes he thought he indulged her too much. Sometimes she thought she indulged him too much.

But Sadie had never seen him like this. It shocked her into taking a step back. Moving away from Xander was always a strange occasion for Sadie. His eyes were wide and he seemed as if he may cry, though Sadie knew better. The dark orbs kept darting around and never settled on anything, avoiding her body vehemently. His right hand was pressed against his left arm, his nails dug into his wrist, a nervous habit of his that she had not seen since they were kids. His hair fell over his forehead and he kept shifting his weight.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

He still looked wonderful, unobtainable, like a rocky storm that you see out in the distance, lighting flashing and rain pouring down, yet you seem to know it will never get to you. It will never truly reach you.

But if it ever does, it's always worse than it seems.

Suddenly his hands were on her shoulders and her back was against a tree and Xander was hovering in front of her, staring at her with his wide attentive eyes. As quickly as it happened, he was gone, he was walking further into the forest and not dragging her this time. It was her choice to follow, as if there had ever been a choice to be made.

She followed him.

He stood in front of a little cabin, the wood was rotted and the window shutters were closed. Vines were wrapped around the walls like snakes around their prey.

She thought it was beautiful.

But Xander kept walking. Around the house until they were a little ways behind it.

That's when she noticed the smell. She had the same sinking feeling in her stomach as she did when she stood in front of her burning house with her burning parents already dead inside. It was that feeling. The one that only the luckiest have not experienced. The feeling that something was terribly wrong and life was about to change into something unrecognizable. The feeling was purely Xander. The epitome of him.

Xander was standing, his nails dug deep into his wrist and she knew his eyes were on her but for once in her life she could not look back at him. She could not see him.

He stood there in the middle of the forest, mere feet away from him were animals; poor, bloody, helpless, dead animals. Dead animals. They had all been shot. They varied from squirrels to deer and anything in between. But what caught Sadie's eye was the centerpiece, barely rotted, obviously new to this deranged party, a large doe, eyes still wide, ears still hearing the gunshot that killed her, blood still dripping from her body. A noose around her neck, her thin neck, tying her to a low hanging branch of the tree. Binding her to this sickness.