by Reana Malori
Moving his body so that his back was pressed up against his headboard, he continued with his story. “Now my parents, they were difficult to figure out until much later. They both have very calm colors in their auras. Well, except for my dad. Apparently, he was abused as a small kid, so he has no love for social services or caseworkers. When I first came to them, I’d mistaken that for him not liking me. Turns out, it was because he saw himself in me and was trying to hold back his anger at the people who’d hurt me.”
“You’re freaking me out. What’s going on? Why are you telling me this?” she pressed.
“Because I need you to understand,” he paused and raised his hand to stroke down her face. He felt her stiffen and almost pulled back. He knew she needed time. “Just as I can see the good within you and my parents by looking at your auras, I can also see the darkness within others. It’s a horrible thing to see the black and gray ashes of evil as it curls around a person. I’ve seen it a lot in my life.”
“Are you a witch or a psychic, or something?” she ventured in a soft voice.
“No, I don’t think I’m either. I still don’t quite know where I came from, but at this point, I don’t think it matters. I know where I landed,” he said with a small smile. Grabbing her hand in his, he began rubbing the skin with his thumb.
“My scars. They weren’t cured by modern medicine,” he began. Her eyes darted to his face and her brow creased in confusion.
“They weren’t? How did they go away?”
Admitting the truth, he looked her in the eyes, “I don’t know what the true reason is for their disappearance, but I know the first time it happened.”
Pulling her hand away from his, she crossed her arms over her naked chest.
Damn, she was beautiful. If he didn’t think she’d slap him across the face, he’d pause this conversation and spend their time doing something much more fun.
“Jaidon!” she yelled. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck is the point of this. You’re talking in circles and I want you to stop.”
“What if the truth is so unbelievable that you wouldn’t believe me anyway?” he asked.
“Try me. Actually…hold that thought. Let me grab a shirt or something. I don’t think this is a conversation I want to have while sitting here naked.”
Waiting as she got up from the bed to grab one of his T-shirts, he bent one leg at the knee and settled in for the hardest conversation of his life.
*****
“You killed all those people?”
Kenya was in a state of shock. How was she still sitting here while the man she’d grown up next to, fallen in love with, and still loved to this very day—while he told her that he was a stone-cold fucking killer. And that the killing was what cured him. “You’re lying,” she accused.
“Baby, I know it’s hard to believe. But this world is more complex than you might think,” he said in a soft voice. While normally, he would be the one she went to if she was struggling with something, today, he was the reason for her angst. Who did she go to now?
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll turn you in?” she questioned.
“No,” he said with confidence.
“Why not? After what you just admitted, why wouldn’t I turn you in to the first police officer I find?” she screamed.
She was angry that he was putting her in this position, but she was also scared for him. What must it have been like to realize that he had to kill just to look like everyone else.
How did he go through that—and she not be there with him? Helping him deal with it?
“Because you know me. You know that while I’m telling you the truth, you still know the man I am. You don’t believe I’m a bad guy. And I’m not. If I didn’t have to do this, I wouldn’t. But I do need to do it. So, that’s what happens. But it’s changed lately. I think you being here has changed how things work,” he said again.
“Right. You think it’s changing. That it’s more than just about how you look.” She still questioned what the fuck was going on, but now that she thought about it, how else to explain the change in his looks? She’d known it had been a little too convenient that he’d never explained how his skin had become so smooth. No surgeon or facial cream could result in that much change without leaving a trace. It just wasn’t possible.
But looking at him, she didn’t feel disgust and she wasn’t afraid. She was curious. Questions swirled in her mind about what it felt like. How he’d come to grips with what he had to do. This explained so much, including what she’d seen while he was standing in his closet.
Could she do this? Was her mind ready to wrap around the fact that the man she loved had something inside of him that drove him to take the lives of others? How could she live with herself if this was who her heart demanded she love?
“I need to get out of here,” she blurted out.
“Kenya, baby. Don’t leave. We need to work this out,” he called out. But his voice was devoid of emotion as if he knew she would leave anyway.
Wait…
“What color am I right now?”
Looking at her, then around her, like he’d always done, he sighed deeply. “Dark blue. You feel confused and hurt. You want to run away from me, but you also want to stay. To understand. Your love for me is warring with your sense of right and wrong.”
“That’s how you did it. You’ve always looked at me that way. As if you could tell how I was feeling just from a look. How can I trust that you won’t use that against me in the future?”
“Have I used it against you yet?” he snapped. “Even when you left and never returned? I let you go because I knew you needed it, even if I didn’t understand the reason.”
Tears started to well in her eyes. The secrets he held inside of him…was he any different than the people he’d killed?
She needed to leave. “I need to get out of here.”
“I know,” he said.
“I’m not going to the police,” she said as she began pulling on some clothes.
“I know that, too,” he responded. Turning his head, he looked out the window. “It’s a nice day for a walk. I’ll be here when you come back.”
Trying to hurt him, she snarled her response. “What if I just keep on walking and never return?”
He never bothered to turn around, “Then I’ll keep on loving you and protecting you, even if we’re not together. This doesn’t change who I am,” he said, finally turning to look at her. “I still love you and will spend my life protecting you. I still love my mom and dad. I smile at little babies and funny videos. But my function in this world is to remove the people who’ve been deemed unworthy of living. My calling is bigger than you or me, and I will not stop. When it calls to me, I will answer. My looks are just the reward I’ve been granted as a result.”
“What if I can’t accept that?” she asked. She knew the answer, but still had to force the words out.
“I’d never ask you to. But, I think once you have some time to think about it and everything I’ve told you…you will.”
EPILOGUE
“Hey baby, I miss you. I meant to call earlier. Today was a rough day.”
“When are you coming home? Your wife misses her husband. And your son is not sleeping at night,” Kenya groused without any real heat to her voice.
“I’ll be home soon. I’ll be finishing up with the client tomorrow,” Jaidon said through their connection on the phone. “Baby, I need to tell you something.”
“I already know. I can hear it in your voice, and the scars showed up today. Do what you have to do,” she said in a soft tone.
Damn, what had he done in his life to be blessed with such a beautiful and understanding woman? All those years ago, when he’d thought he’d lost her, it had taken him less than five minutes to get out of bed and get dressed. He was determined to go after her. To do something he hadn’t done for years, beg a woman to accept him, to love him. Not since he was twelve years old had he been so ready to plead with another per
son to not leave him again.
But, as soon as he opened the front door, she was standing in front of him. Arms crossed and her eyebrow raised in question.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to come after me,” she’d sassed as he grabbed her in his arms and carried her back to his bed.
Even after all this time, he couldn’t believe that Kenya had fully accepted him, and what he had to do. They’d agreed that it would never again touch her work. That he would stay away from her courtroom and she would only discuss cases and clients with him that she felt compelled to or was bothered by in some way. Other than that, his curse—or gift—was their secret.
Every once in a while, it would come upon him when neither of them expected it. The first time it happened, it had shocked her, but other than that, she hadn’t been bothered by it.
Her story to her parents was the same one he told his. He’d found an experimental treatment that had removed his scars, but they’d have to watch it for the rest of his life to make sure the scars didn’t return. They seemed skeptical at first, but since both Jaidon and Kenya were committed to that story, eventually they accepted it.
“How bad are Kaden’s scars?” he asked into the silence. His son had been born without the curse, or so they thought. As he got older, patches of his skin would pucker and wrinkle, as if it were an old burn mark. What they noticed was that he and Jaidon were connected. When Jaidon’s scars appeared, so did the scars on their son. Once Jaidon’s scars retreated, Kaden’s skin cleared up.
“They’re fine. It doesn’t seem to bother him. I don’t think he even knows they’ve appeared,” Kenya answered. After a pause and a few seconds of silence, “Do I want to know who it is?”
“Not right now you don’t. But if you still want to know after it’s all said and done, we can talk about it when I get home tomorrow.”
“Okay. I love you, Jaidon. Be safe. Come home to me.”
“Always, baby. I need to get back home to my family. Plus, I’m not ready to sing my swan song just yet.”
~ THE END ~
About the Author
The characters I write will not be perfect. None of us are. They will make mistakes. All of the hero's will have redeeming qualities, but on the outset, you may not be their biggest fan. My heroine's will be the kind of women you want to hang out with. They're the women next door, down the street and around the corner. They are the ladies you would want to spend time with on a Saturday night drinking a martini.
I have been an avid reader of romance novels since the age of 14 and know what appeals to me as reader. My goal is, and will always be, to provide that same experience for the women and men who read my novellas and short stories.
I’m a former Marine and served for 8 years, so strong military men will always be a favorite topic of mine. I will continue to write stories with military heroes’ front and center. I’m also a fan of Alpha-males and strong women who love with everything they have.
Love and Hugs,
Reana Malori ♥
Contact Me
Main Website
Newsletter Sign-Up
Amazon Author Page
Facebook Fan Page
READ ALL 17 BOOKS THAT ARE PART OF THE F’d UP FAIRY TALES
COLLECTION FIND OUT MORE ABOUT THE COLLECTION HERE
WARNING These are NOT the stories your mama told you.