Page 89 of Seducing Jenny
He stroked a hand along my back. “What for?”
“Being here.” I sniffled and pulled back, tipping my head back to look up at him. “I can’t stop thinking about Surge. My head’s a mess. I know you’ve killed people before. How do you stop thinking about it?”
He sighed. “It’s different for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never killed or attacked a friend, so I’m not sure if what helps me would help you.”
“Maybe thereisno helping me.”
He shook his head and gently brushed a wet strand of hair off my face. “No, you can’t think that way. It was a horrible thing that happened tobothof you, don’t you get that?”
“But I’m the reason—”
“You’re not,” he said firmly. “I know you feel guilty, Jen, but—”
“I felt the blade going into his throat, Mal,” I said, my voice cracking and tears gathering in my eyes again. “I felt it in my hand!”
He swallowed hard, then took my hand and kissed my palm. “Can you feel that?”
It was a sweet, tender gesture. Thoughtful, but I was too upset to take comfort in it. “Don’t patronize me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He laced his fingers in mine and held our clasped hands against his chest. “This hand belongs to you. Not her. This is the hand that has made me feel everything from jealousy to lust to something deep down in my ghost. It has nothing to do with Grass, and everything to do with you. We all know it. Even Surge. And I thinktimeis the only way you will know it, too. Until enough time has passed, you’ll likely feel shitty about all of this.”
I laughed bitterly. “Gee, thanks.”
He gave half a shrug. “I won’t patronize you, and I won’t lie to you. I respect you too much for that. But it will pass. This whole mess. We have much bigger messes to deal with, and we need you to help us with them. I’m sorry you don’t have all the time in the world to process everything, Jen. Truly, I am. But with Justice and Credo and Aphonic and the Illiapol ghosts, I need you to not get too bogged down in your guilt, so we can help other people. And maybe that’s the trick of it. No matter whatcomes along, there’s always some other thing to take your mind off of what you’ve done. That’s a part of what helps me.”
I blinked up at him. “Distractions help you deal with the fact that you’ve killed people?”
“That and the fact that there is a part of me that enjoys it.” I stared at him incredulously, and he almost smiled. “Someone once told me I was afflicted with bloodlust. Truth be told, yes, I am. The act of it, knowing that a bad person will never harm another…a sense of elation comes over me, knowing that I’m the end to the terror they’d brought into the world. It’s hard to describe, but it’s a part of me, as much as any part you can see.”
I considered what he said. “I think I can understand that aspect of it,” I replied, remembering my own past. “Once, I testified against the maintenance worker who had broken into our apartment when we were teenagers. Craig Walker.”
“What did he do?” Mal’s eyes blazed, and his harsh tone told me he was going to hunt that man down, depending on what I said next.
“He’d broken into the apartments of six single women in our complex where we lived. He did…thingsto them. He took some of their hair as a trophy after.” I tried not to focus on the more horrific details.
Mal’s whole posture shifted and a dark tension rolled through him. “What did he do toyou?” he asked, his voice dangerous.
“He thought I was home alone,” I said softly, shivering at the recollection. “Technically, I was. But a ghost warned me he was there. I couldn’t see him but I heard him in our apartment. So I grabbed an empty wine bottle from the trash and waited. When he came around the corner, I smashed it over his head. He went down, screaming. I hit him again. And again. Until hestoppedscreaming. Then I called the police.” I exhaled a long breath. “He got a bad concussion. And thirty-three years in prison.”
Mal’s expression didn’t soften. “That man was lucky. He made it to prison before I got to him. Though I suppose I could always break into the prison—”
“Don’t bother,” I said, and smiled, a part of me enjoying Mal’s protective nature with me. “He died in a riot.”
He seemed to breath easier. “I am sorry that happened to you.”
“I remember being terrified to testify,” I murmured. “I couldn’t sleep for weeks. The prosecutor said I didn’t have to testify, that they had all the evidence they needed, but she also told me that with my testimony the case would be airtight. The jury wouldn’t let him off easy. So, even as afraid as I was, I did it. And afterward, I felt that elation you talked about. Like I’d stopped something evil. I could finally sleep, knowing he’d never attack another woman again. Not because of the system. Because of me.”
“Exactly,” he said, nodding. “You didn’t just survive. You solved a horrific problem. After saving yourself. Two things you should be very proud of.”
“Thanks,” I said, accepting his praise.
“Turn around,” he said.
I frowned at him. “What for?”
