Chapter 48th

As I stood there, staring into his eyes, trying to look tough but probably only managing to express my utter terror, he grabbed my arm. I squirmed, trying pointlessly to break free, until he exerted a firmer grip, one that subdued me with the light impression of pain.

"There, there now…" he smirked, pulling me in front of him. His perfume on my face… how it made my heart sink! It made me desperately long to go home… home to someone he used to be… someone I thought he was. Someone from my memories…

He jerked me forward, pushing me before him until I stood in front of the cop – the latter grimaced, groaned inwardly to himself, as if he had been stabbed… but it was only some tortured sound his mental struggle yanked from him. It was funny that, despite my current position, I found it in me to pity him.

"Oh, what a shame!" Chris's wicked mockery found us fast "You two have become friends already!" he moved me to the side, standing, too, before the cop, who now dropped his head to sob.

"Hey…" he called "Don't be too hard on yourself: There was nothing you could do. Here, let me tell you a secret and ease that mind of yours: She'been living on borrowed time, this one, and it's all thanks to you. You see, I had been expecting you… I knew they would send someone eventually, house to house, door to door, making sure all kids were safe and tucked in their beds as you looked for me… I knew you'd come. And I have been waiting patiently for it – to have her dismiss you, assure you people everything was fine, before I could start having it my way."

He bent on one knee, leveling himself with the cop, so that his drooping head could not escape Chris's mean visage:

"If anything, you've given her a full week of time to spare, which she spent wisely: playing this bashful game of exchanging glares with her crush and smiling silly to herself as some idea crossed her mind." He mocked "…And I was good to her…" a frown crossed his face, as if he himself was surprised by the realization "I guess it was easy enough… we were having fun. I was sweet… patient… taught her how to flirt, smiled as she blushed... tried my best to be all she dreamed I would be. In short, one could write a poem about it. She's collected some good memories, take comfort in that: I'm sure some part of her will remember you kindly… if you believe in that kind of thing."

"Meanwhile…" he stood and pulled me closer to him once more, under his grip "I've stood by and waited like a true saint – I couldn't risk having a traumatized, sobbing version of this fierce cat answering the door when you came sniffing around. But in retrospect, maybe even I am a bit grateful for the long wait: We've shared some interesting encounters." He stretched a nostalgic smile "Had our innocent fun… Bonded! As for the abstinence, well…" he sighed, recalling "…It turns out it's a rather savory seasoning. I learned to enjoy it: all this expectation."

I grunted, hurt by the resistance his fingers offered when I tried to fight them.

"Of course, you have your claim in my prolonged amusement as well: you had talked to this clown before and failed to inform me!" he turned to me, pulling me closer as I had started to slouch farther from him. I stumbled, losing my balance, and found support in his long, unyielding torso. As I landed, he smiled on my ear – I felt his lips part as he spoke: "Earlier this week you asked me what blue balls were… I suppose you will find out soon enough."

I winced, pulled away… He squeezed my arm, gathered me close to him once more, like a rogue but ultimately powerless prisoner – and just like one, he pushed me, bringing me around to the bottom of the stairs. I stared upwards, stiffened my legs, terrified, and stood there. Chris closed in behind me, he inched closer, I felt his breath on my ear as his cynical, composed voice bargained:

"You don't wanna do that, do you? Make a scene… Here?"

I did want to.

"You know you will lose…" he sentenced calmly "…and I'll just have to drag you upstairs. Do you want your new boyfriend to watch you get so easily defeated?"

I knew I was being played: I cloud see the strings of his spider web. And yet, I couldn't help but experience the vexation they suggested.

"It would be a shame if he tried to come to your aid, too…" he whispered, brushing his nose against my hair "…I'd gut him where he stands."

With that, I felt my shoulders – under his hand – soften. Felt my fighting muscles fail me, resistance flow away. As I'm sure he felt it, too, for he chuckled, pleased.

With one small shove, I began marching up.