Killer Love

Ava stopped in her tracks when she heard the voice. His voice. She didn’t want to turn. Every nerve in her body was screaming for her to run. But she couldn’t run. If he found her here, he would find her anywhere. But… how? Her mind cried.

“Ava?” The voice tauntingly repeats. It’s cautious, but mocking in tone.

As if his voice controlled her, Ava turned to face him. She thought he was dead, but there he was, right in front of her on the street, smiling at her. Run! Her mind screeched at her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she took him in. Carson.

He seemed to be drinking her in, too. His smirk widened into a grin—a fucking happy grin—as he looked her up and down. Ava’s feet stayed planted on the asphalt as she briefly went over her options. Running seemed to be out—he was too close, and she already knew he was faster than her. Screaming might work; it was broad daylight, but most people were at work at this time. Whose side would they take, anyway? Ava’s eyes skimmed her surroundings—none of the near houses had cars in the driveways. 

As if he sensed her intentions, Carson strode the ten feet between them in a few easy steps. Black in his pale hands caught her eye—a gun. He never pointed it at her, but she understood. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Carson embraced her. The familiar smell of cigarette smoke smothered her almost as tightly as his muscled arms around her. 

“Hey, baby, don’t cry.” Carson murmured when he looked down at her. He reached to wipe the tears away—Ava flinched. “I’m not mad, baby.” He reached down again to brush a strand of her brassy red hair behind her ear. He pulled her back in and kissed the top of her head. God, he loved the way she smelled. 

Realization crashed into Ava like a wave, knocking her to her knees, and she sunk to the hot, black road. Sobs erupted from her while Carson attempted to help her back up. When he realized she wasn’t getting up, he sighed and scooped her up. She continued to cry in his arms until reality hit her again, and her instinct to survive kicked in.

Ava’s scream pierced the quiet air like a dagger through flesh. Carson wasn’t expecting this, and he stood stunned for a moment—that’s all she needed. Kicking away from his chest, Carson lost grip of her, and Ava tumbled onto the street. It was nearly enough to knock the wind out of her, but she had no time to slow. She quickly rolled to her feet and began sprinting away.

“Fuck!” She heard Carson shout behind her, and the distance of the sound gave her confidence. Her sneakers pounded on the hot, black ground with every bound Ava took; she didn’t dare slow. The house was only a block away. Her keys were in her pocket. If she could make it to the car, she could drive. I could go anywhere. Maybe he’ll never find me. He had found her here, though, after she had tried so hard to hide away. She didn’t have time to consider any of this, though. 

Ava continued to run. She could see the corner of the street. One more turn, her mind nearly pleaded. That’s when she heard the roar of an engine behind her. Fuck! It was approaching quickly. She’d never make it to her car. She glanced to her right, and then her left. A house she was about to pass had no fence around or behind it. She quickly cut to the left before the car could reach her. 

Nearly diving into the backyard of an older home, Ava really did knock the wind out of herself. For a moment she lay on her chest, paralyzed and gasping for a breath that just wouldn’t seem to come. The screeching of tires seemed to open her lungs, and suddenly she recognized her hands again, grasping at the overgrown grass beneath her. 

Quickly, Ava found her footing as the sound of a car door opening, but not shutting, slung her stomach into her throat. She glanced around her and dashed towards the neighbors’ yard behind this house. It was taking her further away from her goal—her car—but there was no way she could turn back. The only thing on her mind was survival and safety, and neither lay behind her.

This yard had grass cut much shorter—in fact, it was clear the grass had just been cut, by the loads of pale green trimmings strewn across the lawn. Ava slipped as her sneaker landed on a pile of it. A thought of how maybe girls in murder spree movies might be justified for tripping over themselves crossed Ava’s mind briefly as she picked herself up for the umpteenth time. 

“Ava?” His voice called, too close behind her. She said nothing as she dashed towards the road ahead of her. She wasn’t far from the main road, where civilization lay. Perhaps she could grab someone’s attention.

A tight, cold grip seized her ankle, and Ava was simultaneously slammed into the grassy earth. 

***

When she came to, Ava found herself in the passenger seat of a vehicle cruising down a lonely highway. Her hands were bound by metal cuffs behind her back. She was strapped in. She glanced over to the driver’s seat, and there he was. 

Carson Donahue. His normally well-kempt, jet black hair was spiked out at odd angles like he hadn’t brushed it, let alone styled it. His clean-shaven face she was so used to seeing was grown out into a long, unruly stubble. Instead of his usual business casual button-up-and-slacks, he wore a tight black t-shirt and jeans. 

“I’m glad you’re finally awake,” Carson interrupted her dazed observation of him. He glanced over at her with a wide grin smacked on his face. A politician's grin, like her mother always used to say about men who liked to charm with their fake smiles. His nearly-black eyes were hard to interpret—that’s what had always terrified Ava the most about him.

“I’ve missed you, baby.” His hand reached over and smacked against her thigh, squeezing it once and remaining there. Ava turned towards her window and looked for a clue as to where they were—or where they were headed. The area was alien to her. They seemed to be winding around a mountain—if she dared look over in Carson’s direction, she could see the guardrail standing between them and open sky.

“Really?” Carson scoffed, “you’ve got nothing to say?” He rolled his eyes when she didn’t reply. She didn’t even look at him. After all, she’s put him through, she really can’t even look at him? His hand lifted from her leg and wrapped around the steering wheel. 

He inhaled through his nostrils and blew the irritated breath out his mouth like he was blowing out a candle. He had promised Ava he would see a therapist, and so he had. So much for that. But he still kept up the practices, because they kept him out of trouble (and maybe Ava would actually be impressed.)

“What happened to us, Ava?” He murmured, squeezing her thigh again. Her head whipped around, and there were tears welled in her enchanting, forest green eyes. 

“Carson, you’re supposed to be dead.” Ava growled through clenched teeth, but she could hear the fear in her own voice. Finally, her eyes found the long, jagged scar that wrapped from under the right side of his jaw to a few centimeters past his Adam's apple. It was an angry red—still just healing. If it weren’t there, Ava would have thought the horrid memory of her straddling him as she carved into his throat with a hunting knife was just a dream. “I killed you,” her voice was barely a whisper.

“Not good enough,” Carson glanced over at her with a wide, cocky grin. “I was sent straight to hell, but when I told the Devil about you, he said I had a bigger purpose on Earth.” He winked. Ava nearly rolled her eyes. 

“You weren’t expecting to see me.” It wasn’t a question. Ava didn’t answer. She peeked over at him when he was focused on the road. She inspected the scar again. I’ve never cut someone’s throat before, she remembered thinking. And now she wished she hadn’t tried. 

“You like it?” Carson’s hand absentmindedly brushed against the scar. “Of course you do,” he chuckled, “it’s your handy work. The doctor said it’s actually not as easy as people think to slit a throat. Guess you didn’t know that.”

“Where are you taking me, Carson?” 

“We’re just going on a joy-ride, right now, baby. We’ve got some things to discuss.” Discuss? Ava’s mind wondered, irritated. What is there to discuss? Just kill me already! She struggled against the cold, biting metal around her wrists in vain. 

Ava wasn’t as solemn as she liked to think she was, Carson thought as he glanced over at her. Her deep green eyes were like an open book to her inner thoughts. He chuckled as he considered Ava—a paradox, really.

“What is there to discuss, Carson?” Ava nearly hissed. She was angry—angry and scared. She didn’t want to die—especially to Carson. 

He sighed while staring out the windshield. Without thinking, he rubbed his new scar with his hand. He looked over at Ava, and for the first time today—perhaps the first time since Ava had known him—he looked nervous. This in turn churned her stomach—what could he possibly be nervous about?

“Ava, I love you—no matter what.” He said slowly. Ava barked a laugh.

“Even after I tried to kill you?” She asked incredulously. She didn’t expect him to answer.

“But you failed.” Carson’s ridiculous grin returned, but vanished as soon as it appeared. “I know the truth, Ava.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Carson?” Ava fidgetted in her seat. She could feel the tension building, like a wave drawing away from the shore.

“I know about it; I know about them, Ava.” Carson murmured. “I know what you’ve been doing.”

Smack. The wave of reality crashed into Ava. For a moment, she was stunned.

Carson stared back into her wide, frightened eyes. So many questions were scribbled across her beautiful face. Even now, knowing what he knew, he still thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Even now, knowing what she was. Knowing what she’d done.

“I know you’re the Red Widow killer.”

Hearing those words from Carson’s lips hurt Ava more than she expected. What did she expect? Of course he knew. Wasn’t that why she cut his throat in the first place? Still, the ache in her heart was foreign and wrenching. Unbidden tears pooled in her eyes until they spilled over onto her pale, freckled cheeks. 

She gazed back at Carson and took in his beautiful face. The face she had kissed too many times. The face she had unintentionally fallen in love with. The face she had known was going to bring her down.

Carson had been prepared for many things when it came to seeing Ava—he hadn’t been prepared for so many tears. He awkwardly rubbed her back while semi-focusing on the road. She shrugged away from him and looked out her window. 

“Just do it already, Carson.” Her voice was gruff as if she was trying to hide pain behind it. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, genuinely confused. 

“Arrest me! Isn’t that what all of this was? You get to play with me like cat and mouse, and now that you’ve caught me, you get to unveil the truth. I’m a serial killer. I admitted it. Go ahead and arrest me.”

This took Carson by surprise so much that for a moment, he was stunned to silence. Then, the roar of his laughter filled the sedan. Ava glared back at him with confusion and mistrust spelled on her eyes.

Carson wanted to smack himself in the face. Of course she would come to that conclusion. He was a detective after all; a detective she had been dating for long enough that she was scared he’d uncovered the truth, and he had. Obviously, he hadn’t been clear enough. His therapist had told him he was bad at expressing himself—Carson was finally starting to see what the fuck he was talking about. 

“Ava,” Carson finally breathed when his laughter died down, “I’m not going to arrest you.”

She looked away again—out the window. “Then kill me.” Her whisper was barely audible. “Just get it over with.”

Carson rolled his eyes. It irritated him how little she thought he loved her. Then, he thought of how she had tried to kill him, and shrugged. 

A few moments of silence passed. After rounding a long curve of the road, Carson saw a patch of gravel where he could pull over. He turned into the side of the road and put the car in park. Ava still didn’t look over, but Carson could see her breathing suddenly hitch. 

Unbuckling his seatbelt, he leaned over and grabbed Ava’s face, forcing her to look in his direction. Her eyes were red and puffy, but the tears had dried. Even now, when she was scared for her life, Carson admired her strength. It was one of the many things he loved about this girl.

“Look at me,” his voice was stern, and Ava couldn’t help but look into his black, obscure eyes. “What I’m trying to say is, I know the truth, and baby, I don’t care. I love you. Too much.” 

Ava stared back at him—first confused, then suspicious. Carson wanted to roll his eyes. Stubborn was one of the many things he tolerated about this girl. 

“I’m serious, Ava. I know that you’re a killer. I know all about the men you kill, and how you target violent criminals that are either never convicted or released. I know you chose me because of my connection and knowledge of the case. I know you tried to kill me when you sensed I caught onto you. And baby, I’m telling you, honest, I don’t care. About any of it. I love you, Ava.”

Ava continued to stare at him, not sure what she believed. She subconsciously gnawed on her lower lip while examining him. 

“Carson… are you crazy?” She finally whispered.

He chuckled, “I must be a little bit, huh?”

“A lot of bit,” Ava retorted. Her expression was still wary. “Have you even thought about what this means?”

“I’ve had 4 months,” a small smile crawled across his lips as his fingers rubbed against his scar. Heat rose to Ava’s cheeks, and she looked away, struck by guilt. She finally admitted to herself what her mind had been burying for all those months after she thought she had ended Carson’s life—she loved him, and she regretted ending his life. 

She wanted to believe he loved her, too. Even after all she’d done, even after she had attempted to end his life. Self-preservation had been more important to her than him, she thought as more tears streamed down her cheeks. 

The days had slowly drudged to weeks, which climbed to months, and she hadn’t killed anyone. She told herself she needed a break—all killers do. It was only now, in this car with Carson alive and well, that she realized for the first time since her vindictive slaughtering began, she regretted taking (or trying to take) someone’s life. 

Carson leaned over and kissed the tears away until he found her sweet, soft lips. He nearly groaned when she kissed him back. He had been missing this, craving this for months on end. Even when he woke up in the hospital in an unfamiliar room with a sharp pain in his throat, barely able to breathe, let alone speak, all he could think about were those lips. 

Carson kissed Ava feverishly with his arms snaked around her, threatening to squeeze her until she popped. Finally, she broke away and nearly gasped for air, dizzy and still confused. Could he really love her, even after all of this? Like nothing happened? Her thoughts whirled around her as she tried to catch her breath.

“Ava.” He murmured while brushing strands of hair behind her ear. “You’re thinking too much.”

“Can you blame me?” She breathed. “You’ve turned my world upside down, Carson.”

He grinned. “Much like you have mine.” 

“I just don’t see how this could possibly work, Carson. You’re a detective on my case. Do you expect me to just give it up…?”

“No. I know you won’t.” He sighed. “I haven’t worked everything out yet, baby, but when I found you, I knew I had to see you. And when I saw you, I knew I had to touch you,” his words trailed off as his calloused fingers lightly traced circling patterns on Ava’s freckled shoulder. “I want—no, I need to be with you, baby.”

“I love you, Carson. Even if this is some trick to get me to admit everything, or a cruel joke ending with you killing me, I really do love you. And I’m so, so sorry for what I’ve done.”

Carson laughed as he put the car in drive and pulled back onto the road. “I’ll always love you, Ava, no matter what you do. Maybe I am crazy.” 

Ava, still handcuffed, leaned her head on his broad shoulder. She missed this nearly as much as he did. “That makes two of us.”

“Just promise me something, baby.” He murmured as he kissed her beautiful, brassy hair.

“Hmm?” 

“If you ever decide to kill me again, use a gun, for Christ’s sake.”

They both chuckled at the wry humor as they drove away from any possibility of an ordinary life.