“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
He gives me a bitter smile. “You love them, so you see them through rose-colored glasses.”
“I do love them. They’re amazing parents. They stood by me six years ago, when I… when I messed up big time.”
He leans back against the wall. “What did you do? Shoplift? Smash their car?”
If only!“What matters is that they saved me, even if I’m not sure I deserved saving.”
“You’re their child,” he says with a skewed shrug. “Their only child, right?”
I refuse to let him diminish my parents’ goodness. “They’ve done so much for this community, helped so many people! Everybody around here loves them. Even Dad’s political rivals, even those who envy him and spread nasty rumors about him, recognize his—”
“What rumors?”
“That he’s a satanist,” I reply with a demonstrative eye roll.
A gleam of mischief touches Darrel’s eyes. “Why would anyone say that about an upstanding citizen with zero skeletons in his basement?”
His innuendo hits the mark. It gets me thinking. Could that ridiculous satanist rumor have a basis in reality? Had the family spreading it witnessed a ritual or something? Could my parents be… bad people?
A seismic sea wave of guilt engulfs me for allowing those thoughts. It causes me to want to defend Mom and Dad with all I’ve got.
“They won’t kill you, no way!” I exclaim. “They’re just desperate to find that talisman of theirs. And, for some weird reason, they’re convinced you can help them.”
He slits his eyes at me. “Do you have an idea what their talisman is?”
Incredulous at the extent of my parents’ secrecy, I spread my hands. “I’ve never heard of a talisman in the family before. I had no clue my parents and the Bauds had a little cult going. I feel so stupid!”
“You shouldn’t.”
“But I do.”Hang on a sec…“The mark! In the video, Mom said you had the mark, which is what led them to believe you’d be able to locate the talisman.”
His eyes light up. “You’re right! She did say that!”
“What’s your mark?”
He scratches the back of his head. “I have a birthmark. Or it could be one of my tattoos.”
“Can you show me the birthmark?”
“Will you take off my T-shirt? The birthmark is between my shoulder blades.”
My hands shake as I stand up and help Darrel with the sling.
With his left arm freed, I take my time pulling the T-shirt up. His chest is covered with bruises and scabs just like his back, but it’s no longer wrapped in gauze.
“When did your chest bandages come off?” I ask to distract myself from the pleasant tingle I feel every time my fingers brush his skin.
“Yesterday. It still baffles me how I didn’t suffer more damage to my ribs and head during my long fall into that crevice.”
Carefully, I slide the fabric over each arm. “You have a guardian angel.”
“I don’t. The position is vacant if you want it.”
I giggle.
