As I fade back into the present time, I had an awakening. “It was you.”
His hunger morphs to starvation. “What was ‘me’, dove?” My breathing is shallow as he rests his head against the backboard. “Are we doing this again?” Still facing the ceiling, his eyes shut as he speaks. “What would you do if I said it was mine?”
My exterior unwavering, while my emotions swirl. “What-” I am not sure where this conversation is going. “Do you mean?”
“What if I told you,” His chest expands as he lets loose a frustrated sigh, “it was mine?”
“Did you ever-? Wait, did you say-?” Then, it hit me he wasn’t asking ‘What if it was me?’ He said ‘mine’. He was talking about the headstone under the rose bush.
It can’t be, he is lying.
Why would he lie to me?
He can’t be dead because I can see him—I can feel him.
I think back to every unexplained event in my life… was it him?
Was he the demon of Vengeance?
No, he has said it already—He is the Shadow. My Shadow.
Between the time I spent arguing with myself over the memory of my sister, a fog formed in my head. “Was it you? The night with my sister—at prom?”
He drops his head back to look at me. “Are we counting this as a question?” The moment he gave me his piss-poor response, ittriggers me, and I seem to have plunged the Ka bar deep in his chest. “Way to cut my heart out, little bird.” He lies back against the headboard once more, the knife still protruding from his body, as I sit there in shock and frozen to the spot.
“How long have you been stalking me?” The question slips out like a dollop of butter on a hot frying pan. “I’m sorry.”
“Is this-” His eyes move to look at me, but his head stays still.
“Yes!” a little more aggressive than I intended, but I’ve needed this answer since the alley. “Yes, Oliver, I need to know.”
“I-” He clears his throat. “I have never stalked you.”
“Bullshit!” I shout at him as I slam my fist on the bed.
“I haveneverstalked you. That would be an invasion of privacy.” I don’t know what to say. “I havehauntedyou... since you took your first breath.” Considering the information, I now know, I am still at a loss for words.
“Watch you undress?” He interrupts my thought, “No, dove. Thatwouldbe stalking. On another note, I feel the need to make this fact noticeably clear… I didn’t fall in love with you till after the first man Ikilledin your name, on your twenty-third birthday.”
“You’ve…killed… for me? How many times?” Realizing that I had asked two questions, I pause. “Sorry.”
I didn’t care about his game anymore. I needed answers.
“Don’t answer that.” I bite my tongue and continue. “Next quest-”
“No, Emory, I owe you those answers.” I am shocked by his response. “I am ok to pause our game, for now. The questions thatyou ask, from here out, can only pertain to the subjects at hand: My being dead, the haunting you, and the things I have done to protect you—deal?”
Slowly, my chin touches my clavicle, then lifts again. “Good, I will make this quick.” Rocking his hips, he shifts to a more comfortable position. “Yes, I am dead, I died a long time ago.”
I don’t know where this is going, and I am both terrified and on the edge of my seat.
“I have followed your family since my passing.” He looks at his lap, “The night you turned twenty-three was the first time I had ever taken a man’s life in the pursuit of keeping you safe.”
I am taken back to that night at the bar—I don’t remember anything past the first half of the night. Then, I remember waking up the next morning to the news of the guy who was talking to me, and that he had passed.
“I’ve killed for your sister also—the screwed-up thoughts in my mind told me it still led to your happiness.”
It was him. He was the one who avenged my sister.
