Ultraviolet ✔️

9.1

Chapter Nine

Joel and I are here, in my apartment, laughing as we shed our jackets and shoes, still soaked from the rain. For a second, neither of us says anything. I'm peeling the wet coat from my body, hands shaking from the cold. Normally, I'd be in a dire mood as a result of the weather, but between the two of us joking around and the warm apartment I've come home to, I couldn't be happier.

I giggle. "Welcome to New York weather. It's pouring out there."

"We had rain like this in Seattle," he says. "I just didn't think it would be so common here, too."

I head over to the coffee machine across my apartment, pouring us each steaming servings in tall mugs.

He takes one, smiling at me graciously. "I had fun tonight."

I beam, stepping closer to him. "I did too."

Staring up at him, I'm so close I can see that he hasn't shaved in a couple of days, but it doesn't affect his smile. He's still kind, and is so close I could kiss him if I wanted to. I know I want to, deep down.

Joel reaches over and sets his coffee mug beside us on the counter before resting his hands on my waist. My heart starts galloping in my chest, but it doesn't hurt. It doesn't fill me with a blast of adrenaline that makes me want to run.

I feel safe.

I set my coffee down too, one of my hands against his chest.

"Tell me something," he whispers, his lips almost brushing against mine.

"Anything," I whisper back.

"Tell me what it's like to be a murderer."

I recoil instantly, jerking away from him and taking several steps back with wide eyes and shaking hands. My heart plummets down to my knees, pumping faster and faster.

Fight or flight kicks in.

Just like that, my whole body freezes like I've been doused in cold water. I can't remember what it feels like to breathe. I can't remember what it feels like to have a steady flow of oxygen because the air around me feels like it's poisoned.

I reach out, trying to catch myself with the counter, but I only succeed in knocking the coffee mug onto the tile. Scalding liquid splatters, but I barely notice it.

Joel isn't talking anymore. He widens his eyes, staring down at his chest and blood blooms across his shirt. Blood pours past his lips.

He falls to the ground, choking, gasping for air as his lungs fill with blood.

And all I can do is scream.