Page 15 of Ghoul

15

Hazel

“Hazel.” His voice wrapped around my name, and even though I didn’t know it to be possible, it made me hate the world even more than I already did. Although it was no surprise that he spoke my name, hearing it pass his lips made all of this too real. I recognized parts of the story, but his version of it wasn’t one I was prepared for. None of what he said changed the fact he’d been the one who killed my dad, but if what he said was true, the world might be a better place since Dad was gone, my feelings aside.

My eyes darted around the room, searching for anything that would leave no question that this was just another nightmare. It had to be. I couldn’t accept this as reality. I’d spent so much of my life trusting my instincts that Dad was such a good person, and now, I questioned every second of it. I’d unknowingly been in limbo for ten years, not capable of moving forward with my life because of how wronged I felt. The injustice of my dad’s death had been my driving force, and now, here was a man telling me it was all useless. I refused to accept the biggest part of my life was worthless. There had to be something that could point me in the right direction, something that would challenge what Ghoul accused my father of doing.

Despite my determination to prove to myself, Dad was innocent, I’d somehow stepped into an alternate universe full of deception. Nothing was out of the ordinary in the room, even if I was desperate to find it. This was happening. I wasn’t dreaming as I had wished. My sides jaggedly heaved in and out, and my mouth had gone dry due to the numerous times I swallowed, trying to accept this for what it was. The truth. Was it, though? I had no idea if I should place faith in my past and fight Ghoul to the death, knowing he might kill me at this point. I chewed on the corner of my mouth as I considered the possibility, realizing it was better than the contrary—to accept Ghoul’s accusations as truths, that they weren’t lies while suffocating every notion of good I had ever thought thrived within my dad.

The room spun, and my thoughts scrambled together. There was no way my dad was capable of what Ghoul stated. My fingertips shook against the glass when I wrapped one hand around it, so I used both hands to raise it to my mouth and finish the majority of the whiskey. Blinking slowly, I lost focus of our surroundings, and I blankly stared at the wall in front of me while I teetered between belief and disbelief, unsure which course would set my future.

I couldn’t believe my dad was able to do the things Ghoul claimed he had. Could I? A panicked answer of truth thundered through my body, and sweat trickled down my temples as crippling awareness struck through my heart. The urge to scream Ghoul was a liar and run away from him was undeniable, but suddenly, memories I’d so fondly clung to made so much more sense. It was then that I realized why Meghan was so terrified and insistent we continue to put distance between my parents and us. Even when I thought I heard dad call my name, she kept urging me to be quiet and swore he wasn’t who he said he was. I didn’t have an ounce of proof, but I always thought it was odd how she showed up one day and vanished another. Of course, being so young, I didn’t have friends who stuck around for a long time until I started school. I assumed she went back to wherever she came from, perhaps her family had been in town on vacation. There were always logical reasons why our friendship was a temporary one. It could still be the truth, but I knew in my gut it probably wasn’t.

Guilt washed through my body for the mere thought that I was close to someone who could have been a victim. Fuck! I didn’t know what or who was telling the truth. It was earthshattering to consider Dad had lived a double life the entire time I was alive. If he had done the horrible things Ghoul was accusing him of, why had Dad acted so normal around me? Dad had never given me a single creep vibe when he was with me. Albeit I was ten when he died, but I wasn’t stupid. I recognized shifty people…or at least, I thought I did.

“You okay?” Ghoul asked with concern and put his hands over mine to help steady them as I set the cup down. I wanted him to let me go, and in the same instance, I needed to be held by someone. I didn’t know him any more than he did me, but my whole world was shattering all over again. How had I been so blind? I was such a fucking idiot.

“I’m…I’m…I honestly don’t know what I am.” I shook my head as if the motion would untangle the confusion.

“Can I get you anything?”

“A new life,” I half-heartedly joked, wishing I could retract the words as soon as I had spoken them.

“Fuck. You’re her, aren’t you?” he said barely above a whisper and immediately withdrew his fingertips from my arms. “Why didn’t you tell me before we…you know?” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did you even know?”

Hot tears burned my eyelids as they crested and dripped down my face. “I did,” I admitted, seeing no point in lying to him anymore.

“Shit,” he uttered under his breath, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was going to kill you.”

“Damn. What’s stopping you now?” he exhaled sharply with a shake of his head and lit a cigarette.

“I think what you’re saying is the truth, even though I don’t want it to be,” I admitted, my heart ripping into countless pieces. “I think I need to go to the cops.” I sobbed.

“What makes you think that? Seems like you were pretty damn sure my life wasn’t worth a whole hell of a lot when you came to my clubhouse,” he snapped, inhaling nicotine and blowing it out in a gray cloud. “Actually,” he gripped his cigarette between two fingers, removing it from his mouth, and wet his lips with his tongue, “I get it. I guess. You had no fucking idea what he did when he wasn’t home, did you?” Now, his voice was one of uncertainty, and the sympathy he felt was unmistakable by the hesitation in his tone.

I was only able to get out an almost inaudible, “No,” in response to his question before he butted out his cigarette and continued, “And why the hell do you need to go to the law? You didn’t do anything wrong.” His face contorted into an expression that almost appeared like he was in pain, but he’d done nothing that I knew about to be hurting. He rounded the bar and sat down on the stool beside me, cupping my face and turning it toward him. “Why do you need to go to the cops?” he spoke slowly and enunciated each word.

“To report a missing person, I think…Fuck, I don’t know.” None of this made sense, but at the same time, it made all the sense in the world. Shit! My thoughts immediately went to Mom. I didn’t understand she was trying to protect me, but she wasn’t strong enough. She must have known, but if she did, why didn’t she fight for me?

“Let me make a call?”

I nodded, too deep in my thoughts to respond. Had Mom known all along? What if she was part of it as well? My entire life had been a lie. I didn’t know what the truth was and what else was a deception. The only thing I was certain of was how cruel and random a person’s destiny could be. My thoughts went back to the conversation Ghoul and I had on the day of the party. We’d both agreed somebody had to have a bad life for someone else to receive a good one. During our conversation, I knew with everything inside of me, I had been dealt the shittiest of hands, and now, I couldn’t deny how wrong I was. That wasn’t exactly right either, though. Although I’d lost my father at a young age, the love and happiness I felt for him were genuine. None of what was happening now was a factor allowed to slither through our bond and create uncertainties. As selfish as it was, I was thankful for the years I was a blissful idiot. Given how much of a fucked-up individual I already was, it was hard to tell what type of lunatic I would have grown to be if I had known the truth.

* * *

“Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to take you to meet someone who will take your statement.” Ghoul reentered the bar area as he pulled his phone away from his face and tapped the screen to end the call.

“Who is it?” I demanded flatly, staring ahead at the bottles of liquor they had on showcase and then focusing my attention on the random bras and panties hanging from the rafters. Normally, I would have some smartassed response about how unhygienic those were, but given what I had just learned, I had nothing to say about it. My thoughts raced between being certain none of this was something my dad would do and then darting to knowing in my gut I was allowing myself to soar high into denial. I had never seen anyone more caring than my dad was. I wanted to have the ability to ask him what was real. There was no reason at all to believe Ghoul. Perhaps I’d driven myself insane, spending much of my life with him as my obsession.

“She’s with the FBI,” he carefully said, walking across the floor and running his hand through the dark hair covering his beard. His eyes were overflowing with sympathy and concern. I didn’t want those emotions to be running rampant around in his ice-blue eyes. I missed the day when all I saw staring at me was curiosity as I contemplated how I was going to bury his soul. It might have made me a horrible excuse for a person, but it was easier to figure out how to make him suffer for his sins than to find myself suffocating for my father’s.

“The FBI? Shit,” I muttered, my lips carrying on with the heavy burden of living when the rest of my body wanted to die on the spot.

“Yeah, your, uhm, Dad…he was in some shit.” He held his hands upward as he approached me, “But, I don’t claim to be innocent either, so…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, raking his fingers through his dark swept-back hair out of frustration. “Damn. This is a fucking shitstorm.”

“You can say that again.”

“This is a fucking shitstorm.” He forced a smile and held his hand out to help me up from the stool. “We can take your vehicle or my ride. Up to you.”

Although I did not know if I could trust him, and I undoubtedly wasn’t about to hand over my life to him, I shouldn’t be driving right now. I was too unstable. My skin felt dirty, but there weren’t any visible blemishes or dirt. No, the filth I wore was far more than skin deep. It was embedded in my soul. If what Ghoul said was true, I would never be clean again, despite the amount of soap or water I used.

The very real possibility that he could take me into a trap was undeniable. He could be twisting everything around to make himself out to be the good guy. My palm smacked against my forehead, followed by the other a second later, but it was a lot more painful. “Fucking stupid.” The constant back and forth thoughts between belief and distrust were exhausting. I wanted to give up and curl into a ball right here on the cold slate floor of Ghoul’s clubhouse, but it was not an option.

“Excuse me?” His hands quickly wrapped around my wrists. “Who or what is fucking stupid?” Ghoul forced my hands downward, and his thumbs rubbed small circles on my inner wrists. My breathing was erratic. I was losing my shit, and even though I was trying not to, I could not stop it from happening. It was like watching a horrible movie, but not being able to keep it from playing on repeat.

“I am. I don’t know if you’re lying or if it’s the truth.”

“Which do you want it to be?”

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