The Monster Within (4 page)

“Hospital corners, impressive,” Ethan mocked me.

“I’m sorry. Why is this so hard? Why don’t I feel like me?”

“Come here.” He sat down on his side of the bed and reached for me. I took his hand and sat next to him. “How don’t you feel like yourself?”

How did I answer that? I was dead—or undead. I’d killed a man. I was hiding out in a tiny broken-down shack in the middle of the Poconos, and I was keeping things from the one person I trusted most in the world. I didn’t feel like me, because this wasn’t me.

But I couldn’t say that.

“I guess it’s just hard to know how to act. The last time I was alive, I had cancer. There’s a big part of me that doesn’t remember not being sick.”

“You know what I think?”

I shook my head.

“You need to stop thinking.” He cupped the side of my face in his hand and brought his face closer to mine. “Want me to help?” He stared into my eyes, making sure I was okay with this. Thankfully, I was. Being with Ethan was normal, and I wanted normal. I leaned forward, brushing my lips against his. He welcomed the kiss and pulled me closer to him.

Ethan was right. I needed to stop thinking. So, that’s what I did. I let myself get lost in him. In us. I kissed him the way I had before the cancer got so bad I could barely function. I kissed him like a normal teenage girl kisses her boyfriend. He returned each kiss with more hunger and passion than I’d ever felt. My head spun, and I loved every second of it.

We didn’t do anything we hadn’t done before. He didn’t want to push me, and I loved him for that. By the time my eyes closed, I was out of breath and completely content. No bad thoughts. The world only consisted of Ethan and me.

I slept soundly until around three-thirty. I heard a wheezing and opened my eyes, expecting to see Ethan snoring next to me. He was quiet. The noise wasn’t coming from him. It was coming from me. My hands shook with cold, and my lungs struggled for air.

Oh, God! It was happening again. Just like at the gas station. The image of the man with the cowboy hat rushed into my mind. I remembered how warm he’d felt. How I’d wanted to take that warmth from him. And I had. I’d stolen his life.

Ethan rolled onto his side, and without realizing I was doing it, my hand crept toward him. My fingers brushed against his shirt. Heat radiated from his body. My breathing started to calm down, like when I’d touched the man’s leg. No! I pulled my hand away and scrambled out of the bed. I wouldn’t do that to Ethan. I couldn’t hurt him. Not him.

I ran from the room and struggled with the deadbolt Ethan had installed on the front door before hurling myself into the night. My body was giving up on me, betraying me with every step, but I forced myself to move forward. To get away from the cottage. To get away from Ethan.

I tripped over the paint can Ethan had left on the front steps and fell forward onto the grass. My chin hit the ground, and I winced in pain. Why did the universe want me dead? I got to my feet and headed for the car. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I wouldn’t get there on foot. I was too weak. I reached for the hidden key in the hideaway box in the front wheel well. If I hadn’t already been having trouble breathing, I would’ve held my breath as I got in the car and started the engine. I prayed Ethan wouldn’t wake up at the sound.
Please, let me get far enough away that I won’t hurt him
.

I threw the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway. I could barely control the car. My limbs were weak, and steering was nearly impossible. I pulled onto the road, and tires screeched to a halt. I focused my energy on hitting the brakes before I totaled Ethan’s car. The headlights of the other car stopped right alongside me. I didn’t crash. I was okay.

The driver threw his door open, yelling curse after curse at me. He stormed up to me and flung my door open.

“What the hell are you doing? You could’ve killed me, you stupid bitch!” He reached inside the car and grabbed my arm. His touch was so warm. I felt his blood in his veins. Instinctively, I reached for his chest.

“Hey!” He smacked my hand away, but I persisted. “Listen, honey, I’m not gonna lie. You are pretty easy on the eyes.” I ignored him and slipped my hand under his shirt. “Well, okay.” He pulled his shirt over his head. “Maybe this almost accident wasn’t so bad after all.” He leaned toward me, and I reached for his neck. I felt the life coursing through his body and into mine. He bent his head toward me, thinking I wanted to kiss him, but before he met my lips, he choked.

“What?” He coughed, but I held on to him. I knew what was happening, yet I couldn’t stop. I watched in horror as the skin around his eyes wrinkled with age. His hair turned gray and started falling out of his head in clumps. Still I clung to him, drinking in every last bit of life as it left his body. His knees buckled, and he slumped onto the road right outside my door.

No longer connected to him, I was flooded with emotion. I’d killed again. My hands shook, but this time, it was out of fear. Fear of myself. I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t become this hideous creature that killed to survive. Yet that was exactly what I was.

I could hear a car’s engine coming toward us. I had to do something. Fast. Fueled by adrenaline, I dragged the man to the passenger door of his car and got him inside. Then I got back into Ethan’s car and pulled it back up the driveway, just enough that it wouldn’t be in the road anymore. I raced back to the guy’s car and got in the driver’s seat. I put the car in drive and peeled out. I cringed, hoping I hadn’t left tire marks on the road. Too late to worry about it now. I drove about a half-mile to a big decline. One thing about the Poconos, there were plenty of hills. I put the car in park and dragged the guy across the seat so it looked like he was driving. I slumped him forward onto the steering wheel and buckled his seat belt around him. I closed his door and ran around to the passenger side. I put the car in drive, lunged back out, and slammed the door as the car started down the hill.

I hoped the car wouldn’t hit anything too bad. The guy was already dead. I didn’t want the car to explode and the police not to be able to identify his body. Although even his family might not recognize him now, all balding and wrinkled. Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t handle this, any of it. I sprinted for Ethan’s car, not caring that my bare feet were being torn up by the gravel on the road. I stuck close to the edge of the trees, in case any more cars came down the road, but the night was quiet. I was sweaty by the time I reached Ethan’s car and drove it back up to the cottage. I returned the key to the hideaway box in the wheel well and slipped into the house.

After bolting the door I took a moment to catch my breath. I was a mess in more ways than one. My chest heaved and tears streamed silently down my cheeks. I couldn’t go back to bed like this. I needed to get cleaned up first.

I tiptoed to the bathroom and closed the door behind me. Ethan was a pretty sound sleeper, but I had no idea how loud the water would be coming through the old pipes in the cottage. I locked the door and worked out an excuse before I turned on the faucet. If Ethan heard me, I’d simply say I couldn’t sleep.

The pipes clanged as the water made its way to the shower. I slipped out of my pajamas and got into the stall. The water wasn’t hot by any means. Lukewarm at best. But it washed the tears from my face as I let the emotions of the past twenty-four hours consume me. I’d come back from the dead and killed two people. Sure, the guy from tonight had been a total creep, screaming at a young girl and then trying to make out with her. I was less than half his age. But that didn’t make what I’d done okay.

Nothing made that okay.

CHAPTER FOUR

B
Y some stroke of luck, Ethan slept through my shower, and I managed to slip back into bed. I didn’t sleep at all. There was too much going on in my head to even drift off for a minute or two. But when I felt Ethan stir next to me, I closed my eyes and pretended I was off in dreamland. He rolled over and kissed my forehead before heading to the shower.

I got dressed and prepared myself for day two of my new life. For Ethan’s sake, I pretended to be the happy girl, thankful to get a second chance at life. I ignored the nagging thoughts tugging at me as I took the box of crackers from the cabinet and placed it on the table. I tried not to think about what I’d done and how long this would go on, because if I had to keep killing people to stay alive…

“Hey, babe. Did I wake you?” Ethan came into the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel. I nearly fell over at the sight of him. Maybe it was all the manual labor he’d done the day before or maybe it was just good genes, but Ethan looked incredible. His dark hair was wet and tousled in a sexy, messy way. His abs were as chiseled as I remembered, and I refused to let myself think about the rest of him.

“No, you didn’t wake me.” I looked down at the table, needing to take my eyes off him. “I couldn’t sleep anymore.”

He walked over and kissed my cheek. “You were out when I got up. I guess you slept well.”

At least until three-thirty. I nodded and managed a weak smile. “Crackers?” I motioned to the box on the table.

“Actually, I want to go to the diner down the street. I saw a sign in the window yesterday when we drove by. They’re hiring.”

We
did
need jobs, and I really needed a strong cup of coffee. “Sounds good.”

Ethan got dressed, and we headed out to the car. As soon as I saw it, I shivered, remembering the events of the night. I wondered if everyone at the diner would be talking about the accident. I was sure someone had found the car by now.

I buckled up, and Ethan’s face twisted in a weird expression.

“What?” I asked.

“My seat is really far up. I feel like I’m driving a clown car or something.”

The seat! I’d forgotten to move the seat back after I used the car last night. I couldn’t help thinking that maybe part of me wanted to be caught. Caught and stopped, no matter what that meant for me.

“Uh, you must’ve moved it when you were unpacking the car.” I hated myself for coming up with an excuse, for not confessing.

“It’s weird, but I don’t remember moving the seat. I don’t see why I would’ve needed to.”

“Well, yesterday was kind of a long day. You were probably so tired you moved on autopilot.” I shrugged, trying to act casual.

“I guess you’re right.” He adjusted his seat, started the car, and backed out of the driveway.

I stared out my window, looking for tire marks from the almost accident or from when I’d peeled out in the guy’s car. I only noticed a small skid, nothing big. As we approached the hill, my chest squeezed tight. I closed my eyes, unable to look at the damage I’d caused.

“Whoa,” Ethan said.

I winced. How bad was it?

“Check that out. That car is wrapped around that tree. The guy must’ve been drunk or something.”

I forced my eyes open. Nothing more than tiny slits. The black car was on the side of the road, and like Ethan had said, the front end was crumpled around a huge tree trunk.

“No way did he survive that. Don’t you think?”

I swallowed the acidic taste in my mouth, and my bottom lip quivered.

Ethan squeezed my hand. “Oh, man. Sam, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be saying things like that. Not so soon after…”

Great. He thought I was upset because he was talking about death. In a way I was, but not at all how he thought.

“I’m okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yes, I did. I shouldn’t have been so insensitive.”

“Really, I’m fine. Can we please drop it?”

He didn’t say another word. He dropped it just like that.

We pulled into the diner. One of those old-time red and silver ones you see in movies. I liked it. It was small, but it seemed welcoming, and for some reason, my mood lifted a little as we walked inside and sat in a booth by the door.

“Good morning,” an older woman with bleached-blonde hair and lipstick redder than a fire truck welcomed us.

“Morning,” Ethan said.

I forced a smile.

“I’m Gloria.” She placed two menus on the table. “Now what can I get you two to drink while you look these over?”

“Coffee,” we both said.

“Coming right up.” Gloria turned and headed to a coffee station behind the counter.

“So, what do you think?” Ethan asked.

I picked up a menu and opened it. “I’m torn between a Belgian waffle and scrambled eggs.”

“No, I mean about working here.” He nodded toward the Help Wanted sign in the window.

“Oh. Um, sure. This seems as good a place as any.”

“What will it be?” Gloria set our coffee down.

“I’ll have a Belgian waffle, please.” I handed her my menu.

“I’ll have the steak and eggs,” Ethan said. “And we’ll each take a job application, too.”

Gloria looked back and forth between us. “You two aren’t here on vacation?”

Ethan shook his head, but Gloria looked to me for confirmation.

“Our families moved here yesterday.” The little white lie slipped off my tongue. “We could really use the work.”

“Well, then. You’ve got yourselves some work.”

“Really?” Ethan almost fell out of his seat he was so happy. “Just like that? No application? No interview?”

“Honey, have you seen these legs?” Gloria took a step back and hiked up her pant leg. Big varicose veins ran down her shin. “They’ve been working too long and too hard. I need help. This is my place, and I’ll be damned if I go out of business because all the fancy resorts have their own restaurants. Nobody’s gonna come to my diner—no matter how good the coffee and pie are—if the service is poor.”

At the mention of coffee, I took a sip. It was delicious. “This is amazing. Secret recipe?”

Gloria winked. “One I’ll teach you right after breakfast. You can be my new waitress.”

“What about me?” Ethan asked.

“I’m thinking you’d fill the busboy position just fine. Sound good to you?”

“Sounds great.” Ethan’s smile lit up the diner. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be right back with your orders,” she said.

Ethan reached for my hand. “See, things are working out great already.”