Wild One (A Jason McCann Love Story)

Chapter Nine: She Believed The Lies

Chapter Nine: She Believes The Lies...

Amia's face showed no trace of fear.

At all.

My ears could hear. Her pulse was normal.

I could feel her gentle breath on my face. The way she was breathing stated that of course.

There was no way in Hell.

She didn't believe my words. The words I had spoken to her. The words that she had heard. Of course she didn't believe me.

Everything I had shown to her. The side of myself that wasn't true.

The possibly nicer, possibly gentle, possibly forgiving side of myself. The one that didn't exist when I was in the outside world. Away from her. Away from the girl that made me forget.

She was falling. Falling hard. And I could smell the aroma of attraction all over us. The want. The feeling of wanting some more. The feeling of... no. I wouldn't think of that word.

As a beast, I learned that the hard way. I was incappable of love. Definetly. I would split her in two.

Then eat her alive.

I cringed in the dirt where I stood, biting my lip at the feelings that tried to cut through my thoughts. But I wouldn't let my attraction get the best of me.

Even if she wanted it.

My love for her.

I wouldn't let her have it.

Amia's eyes grew cold. She had fallen deep into mine. And I knew. She could sense the feelings that I was hiding inside of me. Caging. Guarding. But she was missing half of it. The truth to be specific.

The side of me that was the only truth in my life. The messed up life that I had covered up.

Hidden from Amia.

And ninety-five percent of it was hidden from the police.

Good thing, too.

Amia's eyes wondered. They wondered everywhere. Everywhere on my face. My lips. My eyes. Looking for some type of answer. And a smile suddenly cracks up onto her lips. Those perfectly pink lips. That I wouldn't mind to taste.

"W-what? J-Jason... Are you ki-" I grabbed Amia's hand. A smile was definetly not on my face. My eyes grew dark. My mouth in a firm line. I wasn't playing around. I never would about something like this. The real me. The real beast. The murderer who had actually killed those girls. The delicious girls. I resisted the urge to lick my dry lips.

"I'm. Not. Kidding, Amia." I spoke through my dry lips, ripping my furious grip away from her hand. That softness still sticking to the tips of my hardened and calussed fingers. Her skin was soft. A softness that my fingers had never explored before.

Like never before.

And of course. The fear was beggining to sink in now. Her skin was going cold. Her eyes were going dark. But somehow, not the same darkness that stood in my eyes. It was the darkness of fear.

The darkness that was plastered to the unseen side of the moon. Almost like me. The light side. The seen side. And the dark side. The unseen side. By the living, at least.

Funny.

I was the moon's bitch.

I laid my hands on my side. Trying to calm my fear. But I could tell. I was pushing myself to the limit. How did I think that I was going to hide it forever?