Page 120 of River Wild

It’s very important that he realizes that I don’t. And that I’m not afraid of him.

“And I won’t lie and say that what you do … how you … deal with these sickos doesn’t freak me out a bit because it does. But I didn’t live your life. Who’s to say I wouldn’t feel the same if I were you? Trust me; there were nights when I would lie in bed and dream about killing Neil, my ex,” I explain, realizing that’s the first time I’ve told River his name. “It would help me get through the really bad days.”

“But that’s the difference between you and me. I would’ve killed him.” He fixes his eyes on mine. “I want to kill him for hurting you. I got satisfaction tonight when I hurt that sick fuck. I like knowing that I’ve meted out some form of punishment to them … let them know just an iota of the pain they brought about to an innocent child. That does not make me a good man.”

The way he says it, so calm and cold, it’s like he wants me to be afraid of him.

He wants to push me away. He wants me to tell him to leave.

Because he can handle that. He can handle the bad.

It’s the good that he’s terrified of.

“You’re not going to scare me away, River.”

I take his face in my hands, lifting his face to mine. His cheeks are damp. I wipe them dry with my thumbs.

“I know bad. And you are not it. You can be a total douche-canoe at times.” I give him a watery smile. “But you do that to keep people away. I get that. You had your trust and innocence stolen from you at a young age. You had to … fight to survive. You could’ve given up, but you didn’t. And you still haven’t. You’re out there, fighting the good fight, trying to save other children from the suffering you endured. You might not do it in a way that people agree with. Violence is not something I agree with; I hate it. But, if anyone ever hurt Olive …” I close my eyes on a blink, exhaling a breath. “She’s not even here yet, but I know without a doubt that I would kill them with my bare hands without a second thought. Everyone is capable of violence, River. Even me, who endured it. Sometimes, animals—no, not animals because Buddy is an animal, and he’s awesome. No, pure evil, like my ex-husband and your stepfather and those sick mother-fudgers you … deal with … they only understand their own language. And, if you can save just one child, then … I get it. I really do.”

He’s looking at me with such a rawness; it’s stripping away everything I thought I knew and believed.

I never would have thought that I could care for someone who lived with violence as part of their daily life.

But River is showing me that there isn’t just black and white.

There’s gray in all its varying shades.

There are people like Neil and River’s stepdad who take their own pleasure in hurting people who don’t deserve it. They’re sadistic, sick C-U-Next-Tuesdays.

And then there are people like River, who have lived the pain and suffering that those sadistic, sick C-U-Next-Tuesdays doled out … and the law, the justice system, has failed them, so they fight fire with fire.

The Bible says an eye for eye.

Maybe God knew that not everyone could be dealt with the same.

There are those you can punish using the justice system.

And then there are those who live outside the law. Those who are so purely evil that sitting them in a jail cell is not going to make an iota of difference.

So, you speak to them in the only way they know.

I guess that’s why some states still have corporal punishment.

“You don’t see me … differently now?” he says barely above a whisper. “Knowing everything.”

“Do you see me differently after what I told you about my ex?”

“Of course not.” He empathetically shakes his head.

“Then, you have your answer. The only thing I see is more of you. All of you. And I like every part.”

He lets out a breath that sounds so relief-filled that it makes my chest ache.

Turning to me, he cups his hand around the back of my head and leans his forehead against mine. I close my eyes and breathe him in.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what?”