Page 65 of Fighting Conviction
“And that’s worked for you?”
Dev continued to face forward and nodded imperceptibly. “Yes… I’d say it’s worked to a certain extent. But only because I didn’t let myself feel anything at all. I wouldn’t want this for you…. Thisemptiness. Darkness.” He finally met her gaze. “I don’t think I want it for myself anymore, either. Not when I’ve felt what it’s like to care about someone who’s full of light.”
Ellie’s heart stuttered but she was only ready for one epiphany for the night. “So… what do we do?”
Dev swiped each tear from her cheek with his thumbs. “I’m figuring it out too, by watching you and realizing what I want for you. I guess, what I want for you is… to fill the emptiness with everything we feel. Hurt. Grieve. Let it all in. And then when that’s done…” His hands caressed the back of her head and he pulled her close to kiss her forehead before tucking her in to his side. “When that’s done… I guess, we live. That’s all we can do, right? We live for those who left life too soon. And we live because we owe it to ourselves to try.”
Ellie wrapped her arm around his waist and let the tears flow freely as she nodded her agreement.
“I-I miss her, Dev. I miss her so much.” She stared at the cream-colored wall as she cried until there was too much moisture to see anything but the blank space. “Sh-she’s gone and every day a new memory happens, something I wanna tell her about and I can’t. Not really. I tell the sky. I pretend she talks back. But it’s not enough. She’s gone and I don’t just miss her,” Dev rubbed her back and with the encouragement, she continued, voicing words she’d always been too ashamed to say out loud. “I’mmissingher. She was the part of me that made everything colorful and now the world is… dim. Like everything bright was burned up with her and now I’m dark inside.”
In one swift motion, Dev pulled her up from under the comforter and Ellie found herself sidesaddle on his lap. His hands held her face close to his, fierce and commanding, forcing her to keep her focus on him.
“Don’t think that, Ellie. You’ve gotta fight against that.” His fingers stroked her cheek, soothing the pain inside her. “You are the strongest woman I know, and one day this fight won’t seem so hard. One day you’ll be able to breathe easy again. But, promise me, angel, promise me you’ll fight that darkness.”
She bit her lip and closed her eyes before nodding, but Dev took her chin in his thumb and forefinger.
“Say it. I have to hear you say it.”
Ellie’s chest pounded with emotion, and her exhausted body ached. From the conversation, from rehashing the past, fromlife. But she opened her eyes and swallowed. “I-I’ll fight it.”
Dev searched her face as if he was trying to find the truth there. Whatever he saw, he accepted, and dipped his chin. He wrapped his hand around her nape and kissed her, melding his body to hers until he broke away. His eyes burned with intensity as they met hers as what he said next seared her soul.
“You might think you’re the darkness, Ellie, but to everyone else, you’re the goddamn sun.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Neal stabbed his hands through his thinning hair and screamed at the top of his lungs. It’d been too long since he last shot up and this time the wait would kill him. Ever since that little blonde bitch saw him weeks ago, he’d been extra careful about going to dealers. Unfortunately, the ones he trusted most worked for the Russian. They’d all been instructed to cut him off. Thankfully he’d kept a stash, but rationing it out was a goddamn bitch.
“It’s fine, Cici. I’m fine. We’re fine. Look.” He stumbled through the room to the piles of files he had surrounding his chair. “I’ve got all this dirt on everyone. I’ll make them give me the meds. They can’t do anything to me after I show them all this.”
He twirled around in the middle of his living room, uncaring about the piles of paper he tripped on, or the used paper towels and various bits of trash that had accumulated around him. He laughed loudly and slapped his hand against a large file he’d packed in his briefcase from the precinct. No one there was trustworthy, so while he ultimately kept all the files hidden away in various parts of his office, he had to work them up at home with his corkboard. The only truly safe place was his house. There were eyes everywhere else and no one fucked with him in the neighborhood. They were all too afraid of the cop.
It didn’t used to be like that. When he and Cici first bought the house, police officers were revered across town. Now he was lucky to get a smile, let alone a first responder discount.
“But this… this will change everything, Cici. I just need to get better. Just one more dose and I’ll get well. This will do it.” He waved the file at the woman in the mirror above the couch before turning and muttering so she couldn’t hear. “All this’ll damn me one way or the other.”
“Don’t say that, Neal.”
“Why not?” Neal whipped around to yell at her, pointing his drink in her direction, but she was gone. He staggered back, pivoting with each step, trying to find the embodiment of the voice that was becoming more and more real to him every day. She was nowhere to be found so he leaned against his side table and tipped the glass back and patted the last remnants of the ‘shine down his mouth. He swiped the back of his hand against his mouth and yelled at nothing. “Why the fuck can’t I say things like that, Cici?Yousure fuckin’ did!” He threw the empty mason jar against the wall, shattering it into thousands of little pieces before he mumbled. “You said ‘em ‘n left.”
He walked into the kitchen to get another jar to take the edge off. The first one had only dimmed the edges of his memories. He needed full obliteration.
Before the Russians cut him off, he hadn’t had a proper drink in years. But the time between hits made it hard to think of anything besides getting his next doses and getting well. He’d decided to trade one demon for the other. A sip of his cousin’s moonshine here and there did the trick. They’d been Christmas gifts for decades, and Neal never had the balls to tell him he’d quit.
“Good thing I never threw this shit out.” He pulled more moonshine from the pantry and unscrewed the wide mouth aluminum top for a large swig. It burned, but he’d gulp down the delicious heat as long as it promised oblivion.
Neal slammed the mason jar on the kitchen counter a little harder than he meant to. He picked up the glass and examined the bottom, making sure he hadn’t cracked it. Wouldn’t do to waste a good batch of hooch.
Seeing no cracks, he shrugged before taking the few strides to the entryway between the living room and the kitchen. From where he stood, the profile map on his corkboard stared back at him from the living room, mocking him with all the answers he couldn’t share. Not yet.
As he was about to cross the threshold into the living room, a shadow passed on the mirror above the couch. A sharp chill rattled through him and he shivered.
“What was that? W-was that you, Cici?”
For the first time in months, only silence answered back. Neal whispered a silent prayer of thanks that he always carried his holster with him now that people were following him. He gripped the butt of his gun and swiveled his head to scan the perimeter, making sure he was flush against the kitchen wall beforehand so any intruder who came in wouldn’t catch him from behind. A drumbeat echoed in his mind until he realized it was his labored pulse, filling his body with its own adrenaline high.
Leaning against the doorjamb between the living room and kitchen, Neal’s eyes flicked around to try to find the shadow he’d seen.
