HONESTLY, IT’S A GOOD THING THAT LILLIA’S SO in love with Reeve and vice versa. It makes this whole plan so much easier. Threaten his life and she’ll do anything I ask. Have Lillia spear him in his most vulnerable place and it’s an instant mortal wound. Better than anything I could inflict, because it cuts him deepest.
I will myself to Reeve’s bedroom, and when I get there, it’s empty.
But then I hear a thud. And another. And another. They get harder and harder, these thuds, constant and steady like a metronome. They are so hard they vibrate through the bedroom, shake the change on his change plate, rattle the cup of pencils on his desk.
I follow the beating to just outside Reeve’s private bathroom.
The water is on, and steam billows out past the partially open door. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. I walk inside.
Reeve’s shower has glass doors. They are rippled and frosted, so you can’t see straight through them. But I can definitely make out his shape on the other side. The color of his skin. The shape of his butt. His fists pounding against the tiled walls.
I climb up onto the toilet, sit on the tank, and listen as the water falls. He punches and punches, and then, when I’m sure his fists must be so tender, he sink down and begins to sob.
I could almost feel bad for him, but I won’t, because this is just the beginning.
