Break Me Open Read Online Free Page B

come before a more permanent silence?
    His hand cupped my face, and his eyes fell unashamed to my chest. I had always taken comfort in my ample body. Even when I had lingered, depressed at home it held its shape. But now it was fuel for even more sadness.
    "Actually," he said, without lifting his eyes. "Maybe you should show me exactly what you have to offer."
    "I have money in my purse."
    "Oh we'll get to that." His hand cupped my breast. I closed my eyes. 
    Focus on the headache. Focus on the pain. Don't cry. 
     My heart pounded in my skull. Twist's other hand found me and I focused even harder.
    The door burst open.
    "The fuck you doing?"
    That thundering voice. I opened my eyes. The man who had killed filled the door, his dark jacket flapping over a bare, rippling chest. His eyes shone past Twist straight to his hands on my body.
    "Just having a little discussion."
    "Then use your mouth."
    Twist stood, and the absence of that awful heat on my body had me shivering. "Fuck's your problem? You wanted me to clean up. I'm cleaning up, so leave me."
    The killer moved into the room and the light seemed to dim, as if his body had been keeping it from leaving. He stood not much higher than Twist, but everything else marked him as something else. His hair was buzzed short. His body could pack in twice of Twist’s. His face glowed and showed history, but it wasn't the leather hide that Twist and his cleanup buddy had. The man standing before me had a rough life, but he was a different animal than Twist. What did they call him again?
    "Ghost, just get out of here." Twist backed up almost on top of me.
    Ghost. I remembered his eyes glowing against the darkness.
    "Thanks for the help," Ghost said. "I'll take it from here."
    "Like hell you will."
    Twist's arm swung up like a piston, but where there had once been Ghost's face, there was simply air. No, that wasn't right. I had seen him step back, but it seemed so calm, so careless. It was like he had just drifted.
    Twist stumbled forward and Ghost grabbed his arm. "Thanks for cleaning. We're even now," he said. Twist smacked the wall as Ghost spun him around. He was sent stumbling out the door.
    Ghost shut it and looked down on me. His eyes were a rich ocean blue, but they were just that. No glow to them now. No cold, no warmth.
    "Are you alright?" His voice was soft but rang within the wooden walls.
    "Yes, thank you."  I shouldn’t be. Twist was a rat, but this guy was a murderer. He was a biker just the same and his jacket spelled it out in flame decals. His eyes though, regarded me blankly without any other motive. I felt at peace just looking in there.
    He helped me up. My head came up barely to his shoulder. My blood drained from one part of me to another and I swayed. I nearly put my head down on that vast chest. Then, I remembered I'd seen those muscles help bury a knife in a man's throat an hour ago.
    "Tell me what you know," he said.
    I started telling him the same spiel I'd given that slimy brother of his, about how I didn't care about the dead guy. I was tired of games, and I was starting to believe my words even. 
    Ghost listened until I ran out of words to say I wouldn't tell anyone what I saw.
    "And what did you see?"
    Up close, those eyes were luminous. No, I had actually seen them change just now, lit up by something inside. Not with that other world glow I'd seen before he killed, but something unnatural. It seemed like he could see through any lies.
    "Everything." I hung my head. "I saw everything."
    He was silent for a beat then nodded. "Did you record anything?"
    My eyes dashed to my purse. Ghost pulled out my phone and we listened to Twist's tiny voice as he talked about cleaning up dead bodies. A dark exhaustion threatened to take me off my feet. All the strength I’d held spilled out, without anything to focus on. My whole body seemed to pound with pain, the hangover blooming. I didn't even care what happened anymore.
    Ghost played the recording a second