Page 66 of Behind the Shadows
“What are the scars from?”
A shadow of shame crossed his face. “Heroin.”
“You have an addiction problem?” I asked, trying to keep my tone free of judgment, though internally, I was torn.
“Not anymore. It’s been years.”
Thank god. At the same time, I knew how powerful addiction was. “How did it start?”
He leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him, as if trying to physically distance himself from the memories. “Mother. The scars on my back are from her. She gave me opiates for the pain after she spiritually cleansed me and carved up my skin. The addiction was fast and hard, but she kept feeding me the drugs. She used them to control me. It was her way to ensure I never told anyone what she was doing.”
Spiritual cleansing. Jesus.“Shit. Kip, that’s …” Words failed me. I was caught between disbelief and anger, but he seemed detached, his voice steady and emotionless as if he were recounting someone else’s story.
“She’s evil. There’s no other way to say it. She manipulated me, controlled me, kept me helping my uncle and silent about the work. I cut all ties with her and my uncle until she got sick. Now she’s back in my life.” I didn’t miss Kip’s expression.
“She lives close?” All the color drained from my cheeks with my question. The woman who sold me and ruined Kip’s life. The woman who was ultimately responsible for my sister’s death.
“An hour away. It’s the same place that you and your sister … since we saw each other last.”
A heavy silence filled the space between us. It was there that our lives changed, turned inside out for the worst. Something clicked inside me, turning off my humanity as I realized that the bitch lived close. Revenge was finally at my fingertips.Soon.
I placed my palm on his thigh, unsure if it was to comfort him or myself. “What was your mother up to? Cleaning the bodies?”
“That was part of it. I don’t remember what else. I didn’t realize shit was as fucked up as it was until a year or so ago. Myfriends kept saying I would disappear, and I had no goddamn idea what they were talking about.”
Dissociative gaps that long? It wasn’t just trauma. Someone had broken his mind deliberately. I reached up and rubbed the back of his neck as I continued. “That had to be alarming.”
“Something like that. At first, I thought I was using again, but that didn’t make any sense.” He tilted his head so I could reach his neck better.
“Do you remember anything from that time at all? Do you remember tonight?” I asked, a bit anxious myself.
He exhaled heavily and shook his head. “I only remember hearing you at some point.” He rubbed his hands together, glancing at me with uncertainty. “I’m fucked up, Holland.”
I smiled at him, trying to reassure him that I wasn’t going anywhere. “Lucky you, I like fucked up.”
“With your background, do you know what’s happening to me? Am I losing my goddamn mind? For some reason, I thought Mother would crack first, but I’m not so sure anymore.”
Without warning, Kip turned on me and grabbed me by the throat. “Don’t tell. Don’t you say a word,” he snarled at me.
My nails dug into his wrist. I couldn’t breathe. And maybe it wasn’t just the air being stolen from my lungs—maybe it was the realization that I was trapped, and he wasn’t letting go.
28
KIP
The room shifted, and a loud buzzing rattled my skull. Samantha blurred in and out and then everything went black. When I came to, everything was hazy. I tried to focus, but my brain was foggy, and the people were unclear.
“What are we going to do with him?”
From the far corner of the room, I looked around, trying to identify who spoke. My arms burned from being restrained behind me.
“I can make him disappear,” my uncle responded.
Several people sat around the table, but it was so dim it was difficult to make out faces. However, I knew some of the voices.
The man who had spoken earlier folded his hands on top of the table.
“His friends will miss him,” Mother added. “The school will notice and then they’ll start snooping. That can’t happen.”
