by R. L. Wilson
Oh, that’s why the panic is on his face. I get to my feet and head for the kitchen. “Do you want some wine?”
“Yeah.”
I grab the pink moscato and two glasses and walk back to the living room. I hand Scott a glass. “Yes, I can believe it. Are you ready?”
He grabs the bottle of wine and pours until the glass is full. He takes a large gulp, “Eight weeks.” He sits the glass on the table and lets out a loud burp.
Eight weeks is right around the corner. I know it scares him, but I have to figure out a way to ask if he’s sure this baby is his. She got pregnant rather quick, and I don’t trust her. Sure, Scott has had his indiscretions. But he isn’t pregnant.
The light from the television highlights his handsome features. His cheeks flushed with joy when he spoke of fatherhood.
I slide back on the couch and cross my legs. It made my stomach hurt thinking of the question I would ask, but I need to know. Besides, he should at least be curious.
“You remember when you and Bethany broke up?”
“Yeah, why?” He lowers the footrest on the recliner and darts his gaze to me. His forehead is wrinkled and his tone more serious.
“It’s a rumor; she was with Josh.” I squint my eyes. I didn’t want to see the rage on his face.
“Which Josh? Shifter from the wolf pack?”
“Yeah, he’s the one.” He doesn’t act surprised or bothered. Maybe it’s not news to him. He might’ve put this in the past and moved on. I hope I didn’t open a wound.
He waves dismissively. “It was months ago and she said nothing happened between the two of them. And I believe her.”
I put my hands in the air. “I mentioned it.” I take another gulp of my wine. I’m glad it’s off my chest.
“I need to commit to Bethany. We’re expecting a child soon. You know, Harmony, I got a good feeling.”
“What do you mean? You ready for marriage?”
“Umm, maybe.”
Hitting me like a thousand knives, the air is sucked out of my lungs. Marriage, is he fucking serious? Their having a baby doesn’t mean they need to take vows. My jaw trembles in fury. I’m going to need something stronger than wine.
He comes and sits next to me on the sofa. “We are going in different directions in life, but everything will be fine,” he explains.
“Congratulations, Scott. I’m happy for you.” I give him a bear hug; I close my eyes and aim for his jaw, but my lips landed on his. They are thin and smooth and my tongue is all over his mouth. He doesn’t stop and neither do I. It was my first real kiss and I never imagined it would be like this. It’s an explosion of fireworks all happening at one time.
This is wrong on so many levels, he’s my best friend and he’s having a baby. But why does it feel so damn good? I pull back. “It’s time you go home.”
He stares in my eyes. “I gotta go.” He pats his pocket and retrieves his phone.
We wait for his Uber to come in complete silence. I trail behind him to the door. I don’t want to say goodbye. But I know it’s better to keep some distance. He was just on the couch saying he might want to marry Bethany.
He shuffles out the door and swivels around before leaving.
“No matter what, I will always love you, Harmony.”
Chapter 9
The sizzle of butter and cinnamon dances across the skillet as I prepare breakfast. I’m slaving over a hot stove making French toast, my favorite, for me and Morgan. My vision is fuzzy but my sense of smell is perfect. One of the best things about cooking breakfast is the sweet scent.
I overhear Morgan mumbling, the pitter-patter of her footsteps slapping against the floor.
“Harmony,” she calls.
I’m engrossed in cooking, I can’t stop. If I take my eyes off the food for a minute, it will burn. And I don’t want crisp French toast.
“Hey, I was calling you,” Morgan says.
“Yeah, what did you want?” I grab the spatula and flip the toast on the other side.
“What are you making?” She peeks over my shoulder, viewing the skillet.
“What do you see? French toast, a nice golden brown.”
She rubs her hands together. “You’re making me some right?”
“Sure.”
Working at Burger King has its perks. When making French toast, you mix the cinnamon and butter together then coat the grill. Morgan loves my breakfast. It’s the only meal I make. And Morgan can’t cook anything.
I grab the handle of the skillet with a dishrag, which creates a searing sound. I quickly put the skillet in the sink and spray water, creating steam throughout the kitchen. The steam doesn’t bother Morgan, maybe because she smokes cigarettes. My eyes water and I cough. Damn, it’s smoky in here. I open the kitchen window above the sink to let the smoke escape.
Once the smoke is clear, I take a seat next to Morgan at the kitchen table. Reading the morning newspaper without a worry is her thing.
She lowers the newspaper to the table and grabs a piece of French toast. A red bandana tied around her hair matches the ripped pajama pants that cling to her wide hips. It’s a lazy Saturday morning.
Her crazed eyes circle my face. “You have a sort of glow this morning. What happened?”
I grimace and shake my head. “Nothing.” I can’t let her know I kissed Scott last night. She would have a heart attack. She smells the lie, but I won’t break.
“Something is definitely different.” She keeps chewing with her mouth open like a cow.
Yeah, something is different. I love Scott, but the best thing for me and Scott is if we keep this kiss our little secret. I’m not scared Morgan will tell anyone, it’s that she is so damn opinionated.
“Okay, there’s one thing different.” I swallow a piece of bacon and take a gulp of milk. Morgan shoots a stare my way. She has a smug expression. I can read her expression this morning, but I don’t have any idea what’s in her head.
“The curse has been reversed, sort of.”
Her face goes from excited to confused. “What do you mean, sort of?”
“I can’t heal anymore, but with the new curse I can’t read thoughts, and the world is not as vivid.” Listening to myself say those words makes me realize it’s a catch twenty-two. But if it gets Prentiss out of my life, I’m ok with it.
“Does it have any other side effects?” Morgan asks.
“I don’t know.”
She rolls her eyes and turns her nose up. Her face turns as pink as the wallpaper. “Why didn’t you ask? Stop letting people do things to your body, and you know nothing about side effects.” Her hands ball into fists. I understand what she is saying, but she always thinks the worst.
“Let me guess, your Voodoo priest friend reversed the curse?” Her eyes flash.
“Yeah, but the main goal is to get away from Prentiss, and he won’t need me if I can’t heal.” I move my plate to the side and cover my face with my hands. Morgan ruined my appetite. This quiet Saturday morning turned into a nightmare.
“Have you ever considered maybe there are no side effects?” My heart now races, my blood lukewarm.
“Be careful.” She smacks her lips.
I didn’t realize he was a vampire at first. I take a deep breath and smile at the tall, clean-shaven gentleman who stands in front of my register. He’s wearing a long, dingy flannel shirt, inappropriate clothing for the hot day.
“Welcome to Burger King, how can I help you?”
“You can come with me. Prentiss needs you, now,” he says.
Again, Prentiss is sending creeps to my job, demanding I come to his location. Who the hell is he in charge of? Not me anymore. His obsession with me is becoming offensive.
“Listen, I need to finish my shift. Tell Prentiss I’ll stop by when I get off.” Prentiss is in for a rude awakening.
He smiles, showing his fangs. “You need to come now.” He slips his hands in his pocket.
My eyes widen and I get closer in his face, my lips tight. �
�I’ll get there when I can.” Arching an eyebrow in his direction, my voice is low but stern. I don’t want my co-workers or Terry to witness me scream.
He nods. “I’ll tell him.” He stomps away from my register and out the door.
Prentiss’s workers are always trying to intimidate me. I can’t heal, so there’s no need for me to be afraid anymore. There’s solace in freedom. Something I’ve not experienced in the past two years. But I’m determined to be free now.
The customer flow is slow. I wipe the counters and wait on my next customer. I only have one hour left of this shift and the bed is calling my name. Since I haven’t done any healings, I’m not drained. I am tired, but not falling-over tired.
As soon as I inhale the odor of day-old blood, I had the urge to run. I glare at the lobby as Prentiss strolls toward my register. No need for me to be afraid; I will get this settled once and for all.
“What’s the problem?” he says.
“There is no problem.”
Terry steps to my register. “If your friend is going to stand here, he needs to order something.” And continues walking to the grill area.
“You heard the man.” I twist my lips into a frown.
“Give me a milkshake. What’s with the fuckin’ attitude?” He slams three dollars on the counter.
“Stop sending people here,” I lower my voice and scan the room. “I need my job, and have a ton of bills.” I roll my eyes and walk off to get the milkshake.
He snatches the cup from my hand. “Is that the problem, you want a check? I can get you on the payroll.”
I don’t want to work for him anymore. I want to help my people, but I have to do it for myself.
“No, that’s not it. I can’t heal anymore.” It feels good to say those words and a warmth fills my chest. I’m a little nervous he might attempt to hurt me.
With a puzzled look, he says, “What?”
I stare at him and shrug. “Since the collar came off, my healing abilities no longer work.” Might as well lie. Kato is none of his business.
Another customer steps in line behind Prentiss. I move to the side and tell the customer I’ll help her at the next register. I leave Prentiss standing there, his eyes now red as he clenches his teeth. The vein in his neck is bulging. He’s going to explode any minute.
The customer grabs her food and walks off, then Prentiss steps over.
“How’s that even possible?” He beats his fist on the counter.
“Maybe it’s from you forcing me to do these healings and now they don’t work.” And now I’m free from his crazy ass.
“Maybe I should put the collar back on,” he shakes his head, “that’s the problem.”
“I don’t have the collar anymore. I lost it. And it’s not going to help, my healing powers are gone.” It’s liberating. The shackles have dropped to the floor. The crack in his voice and disappointment on his face is priceless. He’s a control freak. He gets a kick out of controlling me, but it’s done.
“This isn’t over. I’ll fix this. Don’t dream of leaving.”
He walks out the door and I giggle. He thinks he still has the upper hand, but he doesn’t. I do. I trot to the bathroom with my spirits lifted, knowing I have taken a little of my freedom back.
I run my hands under the warm water and glance over at the mirror. I push the locks of my blonde hair to the side. I see the angry tattoo staring back at me. What does this mean? It’s getting larger and larger.
Poking my finger at the tattoo, I get a warm sensation. Is my magic associated with this tattoo? I’ve had it for a while but it’s always been small. Now, it’s taken on a life of its own. I have to seek help before it’s too late.
Chapter 10
I storm out, a ball of emotions. Excited I let Prentiss know I can’t heal anymore, and nervous this tattoo is creeping along my neck toward my face. It’s something, considering the temporary lift of the curse. The tattoo has spiraled out of control and I’m not sure if it’s dangerous.
“Kato,” I yell as I continue trotting down the street, expecting him to show any minute now. The last time I called him, he appeared at my side within two minutes. I pause and scan the scenery. Soon Kato will pop out like a jack-in-the-box.
As my stomach rumbles, I grab a pack of cookies from my purse. Realizing I’ve been standing here for five minutes, it’s clear Kato is not coming.
I have an idea. There’s a small sketchy part of town: Burnt Ridge, a community of outcast super-naturals. A lot of dark-dealing happens in that area. Maybe Kato hangs out there.
The night sky’s a gloomy, dusty gray. Arriving at Burnt Ridge makes fear skate through my body. There is a parade of people walking along the dead-end street.
Super-naturals fill the couches laying around the street. They walk around carefree, waving and smiling. I don’t come to this part of town often, but most super-naturals know me because I do healings. Would they lose respect for me if they find out I can’t perform healings anymore? Performing healings is a part of my identity. Everyone knows Harmony the healer.
The odorous smell of funk and fire swarms through the air. I walk past three booths and come upon the last booth where Kato sits. I freeze and stare. He’s holding the hands of a woman. She has red hair that flows as the wind blows, a stream of tears caressing her cheeks. Kato continues talking to her. I’m not sure what he’s saying, but the woman appears devastated.
Kato peers my way and his eyes pop at the sight of me. I stand there in pure shock, my legs heavy. I want to scurry away but I can’t. What is he telling her, does he perform dark magic?
A man wearing a sheet around his body, only exposing his face, walks past me. He never makes eye contact, looking straight ahead. His face is as blank as the white sheet he wears. He’s a zombie, or this is a side effect of my temporary lift.
The small lady leaps from the chair in the booth and takes off running. She runs past me with fear in her hazel-brown eyes. I take three steps back as Kato walks around the booth with a grin on his face.
He appears happy, but I’m terrified. My armpits are suddenly slick from perspiration. What did he do to the lady? His practices seem shady now. Are Morgan and Scott right about the Voodoo priest?
He continues to come toward me and now the smile has dissolved. The adrenaline sets in; if he says anything crazy, I will take off running the way she did.
“Harmony, what are you doing here?”
I want to leave, but now that he’s closer in my presence there is a sense of calm. It’s peaceful, a rainbow after the storm.
“I came to ask you a question, but you’re busy. I can come back.”
“No, I’m not busy. You look worried, what’s wrong?”
I pull my shirt and expose the tattoo; it’s nearly strangling me. “Can you tell me why this tattoo is getting larger?”
“When did you get that?” He extends his hands toward my neck. I jerk back, startling in fear. I wasn’t scared he would strangle me before. I’m skeptical now. What I don’t have time for is another person putting a spell on me, trying to control me. I’ve endured enough from Prentiss and I won’t go through it again.
“Harmony, I will not hurt you,” Kato says.
I’ve never met a man similar to Kato. Someone who is dark and bright at the same time. My eyes are not deceiving me. That woman appeared to be in pain, running out of here like a jet, cradling a scarf. The whole place seems scary.
“What type of work are you doing here?”
“Oh, you’re talking about Penny running out of here?” He shakes his head. “It’s not what it appears to be.”
I cross my arms and arch a questioning eyebrow in his direction. I want to know the truth. “What’s going on?”
“Penny was here searching for her husband and she brought me a piece of his clothing. I had to tell her he wasn’t dead, but living with his other wife. For her, it’s gut-wrenching.”
“Oh, I understand.”
It’s a relief for me. It makes
sense. Now I’m more comfortable with him helping me with this tattoo.
“Can I take a peek at the tattoo now?”
I lift my head and turn my neck exposing the right side. Rubbing his finger across my neck he says, “Yes, I know what kind of tattoo this is.”
There’s pain in his voice, and the manner in which he spoke makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I lower my head and dart my gaze towards his eyes. “What is it?”
He hangs his head and takes a step back.
“What is it?” I put more pressure on him to tell me.
He starts to speak but his voice is low and shaky. “It’s a signature from the original caster. It tells what family the spell is from.” He raises his head and stares at me.
I’m stuck holding my breath, praying he won’t tell me this tattoo is going to harm me or Momma. I’m only nineteen, but l know this isn’t good news. Whatever it is, I don’t want to know. I have not known all this time so maybe it’s best I stay away from the truth.
I stop him mid-sentence. “I’m sorry I came here. Maybe it’s best I don’t know.”
“You have to know,” he says with a cracking voice.
A faint sensation washes over me. I better take a seat. I head toward his booth and have a seat on the plastic chair.
“It also tells me if there are any family who are still around to keep the curse alive,” he sighs. “There are plenty.”
What the fuck, how did my family get this curse? What will I do to save myself and my family? My head’s now throbbing and spinning.
He takes a seat next to me and draws in a deep breath. “Wait, there’s more.”
Holding back tears, I glare his way. “More? There can’t be any more.”
“The tattoo is connected to the price you pay for the healings you provide.” He twitches his hands, blinking repeatedly.
“I’m the one who is cursed. Does this mean if I have kids, the curse passes to them?” I’m confused right now.
“The more healings you perform, the more the tattoo grows.”
“I’m confused, because the tattoo is growing with the curse on right now and I have not done any healings,” I explain.