Page 19 of Morally Grey

Briar

This is a horrible idea, and I don’t know what I’m thinking by bringing him out here. It’s the act of a desperate woman, I guess. He still doesn’t trust me, and if I want him to bring his secrets into the light, he’ll need to.

And who better to tell my secret to than a murderer? It’s not like he can go to the cops with this information. Sure, he could probably use what I’m about to show him to finagle some sort of plea deal, but it’s not likely.

My victim wasn’t exactly adored by the public, after all.

We reach the tilted shed that stands beside a crumbling chimney. It’s all that’s left of the small house that one stood on this plot of land. The shed was actually a pantry. It was an addition to the house, and aside from the chimney, it’s the only thing that remains.

I step forward and pull open the wooden door. Its rusted hinges don’t squeak, though. They groan, complaining about their years of service and wishing for death. I felt that way once, but instead of killing myself, I took out the source of my misery.

“Grey, I’d like you to meet Sid.”

Instead of stepping forward and taking a look inside, Grey turns his head and vomits in the scrub. The response is valid. I’m not an embalmer, and Sid has been rotting in this shed for weeks. The smell is pretty horrible.

Grey wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his coat. “Did you do that? I mean...What the fuck happened to him?”

“I killed him.” I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “After years of mental abuse shifted into physical torture, I snapped.”

Grey peers into the shed, then closes his eyes. “What about the two girls?”

My eyes widen. “Oh, no! I didn’t kill him when I found him with the girls, and I damn sure wouldn’t hurt two naïve children who were swayed by a perv. I was?—”

Before I can finish my sentence, my throat closes off. I swallow and try to start again, but now I’m crying. The emotions overtake me before I realize what’s happening, and I can’t tell him the catalyst. I can’t voice the loss that spurred me to stab him as he slept.

Now would be the perfect time for him to run, but he doesn’t. He steps closer and pulls me into him, and I wail against his chest. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Sid’s loss doesn’t affect me, and it never has. It never will. The loss that hurts the most is one I try to pretend doesn’t exist.

But it did. It did exist.

“You were pregnant,” he whispers against the top of my head, and I nod. I can’t speak those words again. The one person I told was the same person who took that from me.

“I knew for a total of three hours before he beat me until I lost—” My throat clamps down again. “The scars are still all over my body. You understand, don’t you? You know why I had to do it?”

“More than you know.”

“Then explain it to me. How do you know, Grey? I’ve laid everything out for you, and now I want you to do the same.”

“Briar . . . I can’t.”

“Tell me!”

“No!”

A cold emptiness embraces me as he releases his hold and takes a step back. Tears brim in his eyes, but he doesn’t allow them to fall.

“What more do you need from me?” I ask. I reach down and rip off my shirt. “Do you need to see the scars? Will that help you understand that I’m damaged too?” I kick off my pants and stand in the freezing woods in nothing more than my underwear. “Look at them! Look at the scars, Grey.”

He keeps his head turned, refusing to witness the proof of what I’ve been through.

“These are the scars you can see, but there are others that?—”

“Do you think I don’t know that? You can’t see any of my scars, but they cut deep. My wife killed herself, Briar, and she took our baby with her. When we lost the house, she saw no hope. Gloria took that from us, just like she took my wife and child. That’s why I killed her. She had to pay for the lives she stole from me, withfucking interest!”

We stare at each other, our chests heaving up and down as we share a cathartic moment in the woods. Just two murderers, airing out their grievances. Completely normal.

My shoulders relax, and I take a step toward him. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

He raises his hands to keep me from getting any closer. Then he turns and starts toward the house.

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