Selkie sucks a breath at Hangman’s brutal words. “Jesus.”
“That’s Hangman,” I say as I gather my courage. “He doesn’t mince words. Don’t think he has empathy. He has a sense of justice, even if it’s skewed. I didn’t think it at the time, but he was what I needed. A deadly motherfucker to jar me out of my self-imposed stupor. I couldn’t even react to the cruelty of his words. That’s how dead I was inside.”
“So what did you do?”
I pause, recalling the scene. So explicit, burned into my mind like everything else around that time. Asked him how was I supposed to help a dead woman?
“Hangman grabbed me off the floor, holding me so close to him, I could smell the staleness of his breath.”
I don’t know why that memory sticks, the smell of him. Diesel, leather, and his breath. “You didn’t rape your wife,” he said. “You didn’t push your wife to top herself. It don’t matter what you could’ve done to help her. She was never gonna get over it. So quit wallowin’ in self-pity over a dead woman who’s never comin’ back.”
I snort as I think about it. “Hangman’s words were cruel, but not wrong. Chloe was gone and I had other responsibilities.”
“Like Oscar,” Selkie says.
“Yeah. Hangman said the same thing. Your fuckin’ kid needs a dad, not a drunk. You’re all he has left. The kid’s gonna get lost in the foster system, you fuckin’ loser, because you can’t pull your head out of your ass. He dropped me on my ass then punched the wall.” I stop, laugh softly. “Left a hole in it.”
At the time, it never occurred to me to ask him how he knew how bad I was spiraling. But I heard him loud and clear. Oscar needed me and I was at risk of losing him. For Chloe’s sake, I needed to give Oscar the love neither of us got growing up.
I run a finger down Selkie’s thigh. “Hangman kept lecturing me. Called me a pussy for letting her rapists get away for what basically amounted to murder. Egged me on.”
I stop to gather my thoughts. This is the make-or-break revelation. I get out of bed and walk to the window. It’s a clear night and I know the moonlight’s exposing the rawness of my memories. “I’m gonna tell you something that’s gonna make you think differently about me.” My mouth dries up. “If you wanna leave because of it, then I’ll have to live with that. It’s the only reason I’ll let you go.”
Her face is blank, not an ounce of emotion on it. A poker face. She’s not giving away her hand.
It doesn’t take a genius to know what I’m gonna say next, but she still says, “Tell me.”
“Hangman and I hunted down the fuckers who raped Chloe. Every fuckin’ one of them died by my hand. They got off easy. Chloe suffered for almost two years. These fuckers didn’t have to.”
Selkie sucks in a breath as she gets out of bed and walks over to me. From behind me, she says, “I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same.” She slides her arms around my waist and leans her head between my shoulder blades.
I grab her hands and squeeze, realizing she’s offering me a lifeline. “You’re too good to do something that brutal,” I say.
“No, I’m actually not,” she replies. After a heartbeat she adds, “I understand how much you love Chloe, but she can’t be that third person in our relationship.” She stops, waits for me to respond, then when I don’t, says, “You have to let her go. You have to let that part of your past go. Not Chloe’s memory, but the grief and guilt you feel over it. It will get in the way of whatever we are and if that happens, then I won’t stay. You and I both know how shallow I am. I don’t have the capacity to support you.”
I turn to face her and pull her close to me. “What happened to her defines who I am today. I’m overprotective, temperamental, and controlling. I keep the emotions inside or used to. You bring me out, piss me off. You’ve revived me in a way no one else has.”
She lays her head on my chest. “I sense a ‘but’.”
I shake my head. “There’s no but. You’re exactly what I need to move on. You’re like Hangman more than you realize.”
“Fuck you,” she says softly.
“That’s exactly it. You do and say what you want, give the world the finger when you don’t like how it deals with you. Drive me crazy because of it.” I pause, take a shallow breath. “A piece of me will always love Chloe. A piece of me will always feel guilt. I’m not over it, probably will never be, but she’s my past. You’re here now. You’re here always.”
“Don’t you forget that.”
This time I chuckle. “Like you’d ever let me.”
“Yeah. I’d bury you next to her if you let her come between us.”
“That’ll never happen.”
We’re quiet for a moment, holding each other, me contemplating how to move forward after baring my soul to this woman.
Then she says, “You realize that your confession is the reason I’m willing to take the risk of staying with you. I know about you now. You’re a good man, Eight. The best I’ve ever met.”
We kiss, gently at first, but it turns quickly to desperation. We cling tightly to each other, trying to meld. The fucking is frantic, more than before. It’s a letting go of the past for both of us, a new start.
